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I had no idea how long I hiked
(Blakely)
I had not thought this through.
None of it.
At least nothing practical.
Like, for instance, my pack was so heavy my legs shook from the weight of it.
By the time I made it from the door of the cabin to the trail my whole body ached.
Thirty minutes up the trail, the moleskin wrapped around my pinkie toes gave out, and I had to put down my pack, take off my boots, my socks, and replace it. I put the socks and boots on again and then it took a few minutes of crawling, heaving, pleading, to get the gigantic, way-too-heavy, pink pack onto my back, and my legs under me, and ready to walk.
I felt like the biggest idiot in the world.
* * *
An hour later I questioned every decision I had ever made.
* * *
I glanced around and saw that the scenery was beautiful, took out the phone, took a selfie with a forest in the background — blue skies, a valley in the distance, but my face was pulled into a grimace. I thought I had been smiling, but it looked like I was wailing in pain.
* * *
Inside my head repeated the mantra, ouchie, ouchie, ouchie, ow, ouchie, ouchie ouchie, ow, and that was making me feel insane. After the second hour I sat down to eat lunch and it came to me... I couldn’t walk another step, but my pride wouldn’t let me stop there.
I ate a protein bar, drank from my water bottle, and got enough of my strength back to trudge another hour before I had to stop.
I crouched, lost balance, and rolled into a grassy knoll on the side of the trail with my pack on top of me. My face pressed into the dirt.
I would have died of embarrassment if I had been found this way, so I struggled to flip over. Then I lay on my pack looking up at the sky, like an overturned turtle. “Fuck.”
* * *
It took a couple of hours to get my tent up and my bedroll down. It was only 4pm, but there was nothing more I could do but sleep.
* * *
I woke up at 2am to rustling outside my tent. I burrowed into the bedroll, my whole body tense, listening, until whatever it was continued on its way. My brain decided that was all the sleep I needed, so the rest of dark time was spent imagining all the ways I could die.
* * *
I ate some breakfast and sat and stared off into the distance. The birds were waking up, the sun rising, the ground was dewy.
I checked my feet. My little toes were raw and blistered, a little bloody. I bandaged them up better and layered on two pairs of socks and wrestled on my boots with breaks because I was so exhausted.
I assured myself: Beautiful weather, perfect temperature for a walk, this would be an excellent day.
Then I stood up, and it hurt to straighten — ow, ow ow owww.
I did some stretches finding myself in a Downward Dog when a couple hiked by. “Morning!” they said, bright and cheery.
I collapsed to all fours. “Morning!”
They kept on walking.
