Eating Elephants

Hypocrite: (Adjective) A person who acts in contradiction to his or her stated beliefs or feelings.

As I attempt to narrate a story from the events of Friday, June 30th, I feel as though it’s important to note that my narration is a bit of a riff from my last blog: “Be Excellent to Everyone!”. For the most part on the days that are spent hiking in solitude, my mind becomes besieged by an abnormal amount of stimulated thoughts. Words flutter through my mind and for the most part I can understand the concept of each word. There are times though when I come across these linguistical webs and have to stop to look up the definition of such words. Hypocrite seemed to be one of those words this past week.

I also feel as though it’s important to express that in some way or another, it feels as though we can all be hypocritical. In a pursuit of lifestyle that represents a state of bliss one day, then turns into misery the next day. By relaying a piece of advice to a friend, then going against that advice when faced with a similar situation. I often feel overwhelmed with a sense of guilt when my mind slips into the process of behaving like a hypocrite. From time to time however, that same hypocritical thinking allows me to keep an open mind whilst receiving contradictory beliefs and peering into them rather than just rapidly dismissing something that feels or looks uncomfortable.

From my first ensconcement upon the trail, she held a script of mystical entanglements. I’ve met more people than I ever thought possible for one human to meet. In all of the fellow hikers I’ve met, the most recent of traveling companions have been a pair of 19 year old kids. I know how it sounds, it sounds weird right? I’ve grown fond of witnessing, participating in, facilitating in with character development of the humans we want to grown into.

Have you wondered what trail names are? Have you wondered how they come about? I’m not quite sure how to describe the purpose of a trail name nor the importance of an alias but it’s something that we all succumb to at one point or another. As we greet new folks, the ring of the name that has had so many stories behind it grows on us. Those two new trail names come from P.F. (Polite Fucker) and Easy. Easy, with his easy going mantra, is one of the greatest listeners and observers that I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. And Polite Fucker, well I mean you can presume what you want but when it comes to being polite, the kid has every base covered.

I’ve ran into these two lads multiple times since March 6th and they’ve done more for me in the past few days than I could possibly repay unto them. They’ve permitted me with a place of rest as well as a time for peace and contemplation over the 4th of July. Being just a few days shy of four months on the trail, we bounced off at mile marker 1475 and were picked up by P.F’s parents for a two hour drive back to their home; Brooklyn, Connecticut!

The past week has been a shock to the system to say the least. From hanging with the lads, to hiking through a zoo in New York, to getting absolutely pissed on as the skies opened up with an outpouring of rain. There was one night in specific that will hold sentimental retention in my mind for the rest of my life. Friday, June 30th we had gotten to a site along the trail that was called Nuclear Lake. The signs “no camping” were apparent as we set down our gear and began pitching our tents right next to the lake. Not to mention the comment that a fellow hiker had made just one hour prior. “The comments in the far out app say that there is a ‘Karen’ who patrols the lake and kicks out any hikers who attempt to slumber next to the body of water.” stated ThreeP. “We’re some pretty charming fellas” I confidently reflected, “maybe we can talk her into letting us stay if we do indeed see her!”

The clock struck 8:30 pm and we had just finished setting our tents up for the evening. P.F. had pulled out his fishing pole and would you believe it, he reeled in a tiny blue gill. Around 9:00 Easy looked up and realized headlights in the distance approaching our campsite, driving down a patch of grass. Sure enough, the “Karen”had appeared and shouted from the window of her car that we needed to disperse. I had made an attempt to tell her that we were thru-hiking and we would only be there for one night, packing up and setting out before the sun peered over the lake. Her persistence to the “no camping” policy was uncanny and she would not be deterred from that mindset. I felt incredibly frustrated. With the knowledge now that certainly we would have to night hike. My rapid mindset as I was packing down my tent was, “you hypocrite!” I had just written about being excellent to everyone and my only impression of her was left to be a distasteful thought of some old lady who has nothing better to do than tell thru-hikers to pack up their shit and get lost.

P.F struck up a conversation with the lady while I took my time and packed up, biting my tongue to the comments she was making. He immediately smoothed over the situation with his polite questioning and enlightened responses to her curiosity about us. As I looped my pack over my shoulders and strapped my headlamp to my forehead, we turned to hike away but just before, P.F. flipped her the bird and I exploded with laughter at the situation. We hiked for about a half hour to an hour in the dark after that encounter, creating comical satire out of the whole ordeal. I joked with P.F. about how the encounter put a whole new meaning on his trail name.

As I sit around Easy’s family kitchen table, shooting the shit and teaching them how to play screw your neighbor, a family staple card game back home, the gratitude that I feel for these two young men and their families erupts in a tremendous sense. I took the time to reflect about that situation when we were booted from an amazing camp site. I wasn’t at my best that day, feeling highly miffed, I learned to find humor in my own hypocrisy. Cultivating a way to laugh at yourself by any means becomes necessary to pursue through the struggle and strife. These two 19 year olds have taught me something. They’ve brought to light what it means to be young again. Jumping into situations first with regard to the consequences as they come, if they come. They reminded me how to make light of a situation that most adults can only depict the negative out of. Reminding me that we’re not always at our best but in those moments where we show our ugly, it’s nice to have company to rearrange a negative thought process.

As we approach 1500 miles I feel as though this mental battle begins to loom. At this point, it’s no longer a war of attrition or a question as to whether or not my body can make it. It is more so the notion of locking in to a mental fortitude that will not be denied the finish line. For any thru-hiker that can make it this far, their bodies maintain the capability of enduring the 2,198 mile trek. The question is, which road will you allow your mind to wander down? Is it a path of darkness, or can you find the medium between happiness and sadness, light and dark, humor and taking yourself too serious? As in life, when we can walk the high ropes and find balance through turbulent times, success may be rewarded to those who persist.

“You’re only given a little spark of madness. You mustn’t lose it.”

-Robin Williams