Hasten slowly

Greetings again. I’ve made it to Daleville, Virginia, and 700 miles has never felt less daunting.

I nervously flip through my guidebook counting the weeks: only 2 more in Virginia to the Tennessee border? Then 1 to the Smokies? Then 1.5 after the Smokies to the southern terminus at Springer Mtn? That’s the sketch.

Really, there’s not much I can do except stay present in these woods and enjoy the fullness of the walk. Attempts at speeding up or slowing down rarely end well on the trail. They seem imprudent and possibly hazardous to the completion of the hike–speeding up leads to injury, decreased awareness, and a narrowed obsession on miles per day; and, curiously, slowing down can also lead to a decreased trail awareness as one’s attention searches out comforts, machines, and entertainment that we’ve spent so long learning how to not miss. Forced slowness can also derail a rhythm, remind the body of its deep aches and pains, and tempt one to cling onto this journey longer than is healthy. The trail, contrary to how some speak of it, is not a reality in itself but rather part of a much larger one. I’ve seen some hikers gain a greater understanding of this reality–widen their worldviews–through this experience of diverse plants and peoples; however, just as many shrink down their awareness and worldviews like a coat clung around their shoulders as they stare into nightly campfires talking about the AT as if it were synonymous with life and the world entire. My affinity for backpacking makes me wish I could say, “and it may be.” But another voice says to enjoy those nights when you can experience the world through walks and campfires and tales, but mind the word “through.”

All in all, I believe most hikers, by this point, have come into a pace appropriate for their own purposes, whether they realize those or not.

Enjoy:

Next address:

Michael Short // c/o General Delivery // Damascus, VA 24236 // please hold for hiker // ETA Sept. 30

As always, best to all,

-MKS

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