Date: 2009-09-18
From: Frye Notch Lean-to

To: Wild Camp on Old Blue Mtn
Miles today: 15.6

People. Ask hikers the best thing about the trail, many will say the people. Some folks turn out to be central to the story, others mere bit players. Those you hike with, those you pass, those who extent the hand of kindness, those who take an interest and offer support, those who make you laugh and smile, those who pick you up when you begin to sink, even those who make you happy simply because you will never have to see them again.This morning I met a grumpy girl and she (unintentionally I'm sure) filled me with joy.There she was sitting by the road as I emerged from the woods and as is the way of things among the hiking fraternity (or so I thought) I said a cheery 'hello'. She grunted back, hardly looking up. Maybe just a bad morning I thought, so I tried again ...Now maybe I was expecting too much but her abruptness (I would actually call in rudeness, especially given my previous experience) took me by surprise. OK she was on her own and I was a guy and there was nobody else around so maybe she had me marked as an axe murderer or, heaven forbid, some sort of deviant (think Tory MP) or maybe just suspected, perhaps from my stance, a certain liking for 'Jolene' by Dolly Parton. Whatever it was her attitude was new to me and also completely unfathomable. If she was really going to treat everybody (or was it really just me) with suspicion and contempt then what did she hope to achieve out here. Why was she out here? And if my best guess was correct then why was she alone? Was she genuinely a miserable person or was she just being miserable to me? I decided to see if I couldn't coax a smile, to show that it (or I) wasn't so bad, to turn over a new leaf, to start again on a better footing. Keeping a respectful distance I met each new disdainful grunt with an even cheerier, upbeat, but perhaps slightly cheeky, enquiry. Oh she was so condescending, and with each put down I received I somewhat bizarrely felt happier and happier. Eventually I laughed, shook my head and headed onwards. I could think of no encounter in over 4000 miles of Appalachian hiking that was even remotely comparable.On the subject of people there have been less of them around lately. I recall a trail journal were the journalist commented on long spells where me met nary another thru hiker. Given my experiences in 2003 I found it hard to understand but now. a little older, a little wiser, I know a little different.There seems to be a 'gloopiness' to hikers, something that attracts and binds them. Entries in registers speak of hikers' desires to catch the group ahead or to slow down for the group behind, a self fulfilling prophesy. A crowd begets a crowd, then when crowd gets too big its naturally splits, like bees from a hive, striking out for their independence but still within the comfort of the group.I definately sense that I have found that 'between groupness'. I'm still meeting people, mostly day hikers or south bounders, and of course I still meet other north bounders, but largely they do their thing and I do mine. Maybe there are just more people spending more nights in town. Whatever the reason the shelters seem quieter and the people I meet no more than ships that pass in the night.And so I walked on; buoyed by the girl and by all my other interactions out here; and weighed down by the slow disintegration of my shoes, the darkening skies and a distinct drop in temperature. Life's rich tapestry.I passed a decent campsite at 3:00 but 3:00 was too early. Onwards, upwards, drizzle; another potential campsite, then another. How many more could I afford to ignore? Would they always appear just as needed? Oh but I'm not a gambler and so just after 4:00 I called it a day. One small patch of flatish ground. Tonight, once again, I was destined to be alone.