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“Well, the pack would have been a hell of a lot lighter. Right now it’s probably the size of a ten-year-old.”
George said, “That pack is more like the size of a sixteen-year-old who’s a couch potato.”
I laughed. “Careful, George, I might reconsider and think you are fit to be in a sitcom.”
Frank said, “Back to the point, to manage a hike with a lighter pack, it probably would have been a shorter distance, right?”
“I might not have had the best understanding of how weight, or time, or necessary gear would have played out — then again, I’m twenty-eight, I think I still have that issue. That’s one of my many many faults: not planning, not being realistic, or sensible, or wise. I generally make up for it with enthusiasm. A little relentless hopefulness.”
Frank said, “Yeah, we can tell, you basically scream relentless hopefulness. So this is what I’m saying, maybe what you need to do is embrace the enthusiasm of your ten-year-old self and do the hike you would have done then — you can ditch some of your gear, you can stay out for less time, you can stop and enjoy the view. How long you been out?”
“This will be my sixth day.” I looked up at the branches swaying in the breeze. “Are you telling me to cut my hike short, to quit? Because I do not want to be a failure.”
“Not at all, I’m asking you who’s trying to win? Is it the cheated wife, trying to prove something to her ex? Or is it Blakely, the girl who’s grown up, who is going to prove to herself that she can finish a long hike?”
“Oh.” I took in a deep breath.
Frank went over to George and pressed on his shoulder, twisting him like a pretzel.
My view was of Frank’s backpack, laying on the ground beside me. I relaxed and thought about what he said, my focus settling on a patch, sewn onto the side, focusing on — a bird.
“Frank, what bird is this on your pack?”
“An albatross, George got it for me.”
“Oh.”
I blinked. “Fuck, that’s crazy.”
“What?”
“Nothing...”
I watched him massage George’s shoulder. “You know, you’re right, Frank. I should hike for the little girl and she always wanted to see Spring River Falls.” I blinked, calculating. “...and that’s only like, fifteen more miles. I could hike toward it today, camp just south of it, see it, and then camp another night and then... what would I do?”
Frank said, “By then you’d have been gone a whole week.”
“I would! I would have done a whole week by myself, camping and hiking the trail and seeing the waterfall, and then...”
George said, “A bit farther on is Mansfield. It’s a pretty sizable town. We’re going to resupply there at the Walmart.”
My eyes went wide. “I could hike to that town, I have enough food to last that long.”
Frank grinned. “What do you think your kid-self would say about all of that?”
I said, “I think she would be proud.”
“Yeah, me too.”
I sat up. “Yeah, wow, thank you for that. I thought quitting meant I was a failure.”
“You aren’t quitting, you’re reevaluating the end goal. Adjusting. It’s part of life on the trail, it’s actually part of life.” He stood up and brushed off his knees. “So, that being said, this is where we part ways. George and I are going to hike away and leave you to your trip.”
I nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense.”
“Give me your phone, I’ll add our contacts.”
I clambered up, went to my pack, dug out my phone, and passed it to him.
George said, “What kind of a phone is this? This is not an agent phone.”
“Mine was broken the day before I came, I didn’t have time to replace it.”
They put their info into my contacts and then I hugged them goodbye and watched them go, walking side by side, headed the same direction but at, like, twice my speed.
I looked at my map. I had only done eight miles a day and had missed a day because of the weather. I would have to do fifteen today. But now that I wasn’t looking at four hundred it all seemed doable. I took out some of my clothes and lightened my load a bit.
I heaved my pack, still very heavy, to my shoulders and began to trudge down the road.
