The peace of the Path

“Can I give you some advice? You might lose the knife.”

Those words cut deep. I felt my eyes drop to the ground and my head nod in agreement.

I thought someone would have called me out on my safety feature from the get-go, but all I had experienced were a few odd looks. The knife, fastened to the left shoulder strap of my pack, was not small.

If you know anything about me, you know that I love walking in the woods. You also might know that I am afraid of bears.

While gathering equipment for the Sheltowee Challenge, it was necessary for me to have some kind of bear protection to feel safe. I had considered bear spray, but it was a little heavy. Plus, it served only one purpose. I thought a blade would both provide security and be useful in other ways. I asked my son’s best friend, A.J. (my “second son”), to help me find something that would be easy to carry. He came through for me, and it seemed perfect, at the time. All I had to do was reach up with my right hand and firmly pull it from its sheath, if/when needed.

Having that knife allowed me to release the fear, just long enough, to step into the Challenge.

***

Earlier that day, our Section 2 hike began with frigid temperatures, in a wintery wonderland. Skylar, having not worn enough layers (in my opinion), was visibly shivering as we entered the frosted forest. More than once, I asked if he was warm enough. He assured me that he would warm up, eventually, and that he did.

The ups and downs of this section were gentler than those of the first, and we were able to travel a bit faster. For that reason, I fought the urge to stop more than a couple of times to take pictures of the breathtaking beauty. It would be nice to get to camp, set up, and have time to socialize with the other hikers.

The sanctuary of silence offered by the blanket of snow was, at first, only occasionally interrupted by passing hikers. As we rock-hopped streams and climbed over fallen trees, the bottoms of my feet began to ache. I noticed Skylar was favoring one leg and soon, he confirmed that he was suffering from the same tendonitis that had begun on our first hike. We slowed, and others passed, until I was certain we were among the last of our group.

***

Now, here I was, at the end of the first 13.5-mile hike of Section 2. My toes had burned, and the ball of my feet had ached since mile 2, and Skylar’s leg had hurt for just as long. Pain had distracted us from the wonders of the wintery walk, but our greatest agony came with the decision to postpone the next day’s hike, and head home.

With heads hung low, trying to swallow our sticky pride, we walked down the hill from our would-be camp. The shuttle would soon pick us up and take us back to our vehicle. We weren’t the only two who had decided to call it a weekend, but that didn’t make it feel any better.

That’s when we met up with John, a fellow hiker who had dropped a lot of weight from his own pack, since Section 1.

“You might lose the knife,” he said. “It’s extra weight.”

He went on to offer other suggestions for lightening our packs and gaining strength, to prevent future pain and injury.

“If you didn’t use it, don’t bring it on the next hike.”

That day, I felt defeated. It had taken all the courage I could muster to take on this challenge. I barreled through a great wall of fear and way out of my comfort zone. Being physically unable to complete a hike was unacceptable to the part of me that had chosen to run full throttle toward my dream. But I’m learning that fear is not always something that can be penetrated by sheer force. Sometimes, it requires a thoughtful, conscious decision to lighten the load and just let it go…like dropping a big, bulky knife from a backpack.

And so many swallows of pride prove to be indigestible. It wasn’t useful, so I’m doing my best to leave it out of my pack, henceforth.

This Sheltowee Challenge is…challenging. Once upon a time, I would have given up on the whole idea, after experiencing the aches and pains. Not now, though.  I’ll be hiking Section 3 this weekend (35 miles in 3 days), without my son. His leg needs time to heal. I have a plan to make up the part of the trail I missed. I have new shoes, new socks, the support of a great association, and a strengthened will to carry on.

As long as God gives me the strength and wisdom to continue, I know that He will continue to teach me through this wild and crazy dream, one step at a time.

This is not a snow sandwich. Marshmallow Fluff and Sun Butter…Mmmm!!!