Date: 2015-07-24
From: Podunk Road

To: Hanover, NH
Miles today: 8.5
Weather: broken clouds

Sometimes I wonder about life after the trail.Okay, I think about the future ALL THE TIME, not just sometimes. The trail is supposed to be helping me decide what to pursue next. I think about future adventures, future jobs, future hugs and loves and holidays and future days baking cookies (I really like baking cookies. Maybe even more than I like eating M&Ms, if you can believe that).Today I crossed into New Hampshire. Only two states left. The end is near! The indeterminate future is just around the corner! As it gets closer, of course I think of it more and more often. What will it bring? What will I do?I am trying not to let the future weigh on me at this point, because sometimes I get scared that I don't know what I will do next. I want to enjoy the adventure I'm on now. It's about the journey, not the destination, and even though the journey is supposed to bring me clarity concerning what future I want, my first priority is enjoying the journey while I have it.And I also think to myself, when I get so caught up in worrying about the future, that I am LUCKY that my future is open. I have so many choices! So many options! It shouldn't be scary that I don't have a set plan. It should be exhilarating that I can do WHATEVER I WANT (kind of... I am a little limited by funds and the fact that I can only control myself, not other people. And I can't control myself all of the time. Especially not around a bag of chocolate).ANYWAY, THE FUTURE CONCERNS ME. And life after the trail concerns me. How will I adjust back to living real life? To sleeping inside every night? To sleeping in the SAME PLACE every night?! How will it feel to break from the trail, my primary home for five months?As I was walking through the I-89 underpass the other day, spotting the white blaze on the wall, I pondered my relationship with the trail.I started to think about what that white blaze means. What it does to you. I spend hours and hours almost every day looking at blazes, looking for blazes, trusting white paint to lead me through the wilderness. I depend on them. My heart skips a beat if I realize it has been a minute since I last laid eyes on one. I have passed thousands and thousands of blazes so far. Did you know that there are approximately 165,000 of them marking the trail, telling hikers which way to go, leading them south towards Springer and north towards Katahdin?Think of how many different people painted those blazes. How many volunteers have headed out into the woods with a brush and a bucket of paint so that I can find my way north?And how many people have passed by each of these blazes, slapped onto trees, shelters, telephone poles, guard rails, and the ends of cement bridges? How many people pass by one single blaze in a given day?Obviously it depends on the location. A blaze in the middle of the woods will see far fewer faces than one painted on Elm Street in Norwich, Vermont. But how many is that?To some people, that blaze has no meaning. It is a simple splash of white on a piece of wood, a strip of metal, a chunk of cement. It is unobtrusive, and commonplace. There are white rectangles everywhere. Who's to know the significance behind the ones that are six inches high and two inches wide if they haven't walked the trail? If they don't know that these bits of paint lead thousands of people thousands of miles (think of it... thousands!) through the wilderness? If they don't understand what that white means?Do you become obsessed with white blazes when you leave the trail?Do you peer into the woods as you drive down the road, searching for that flash of white on a tree trunk tucked just into the forest? Does your heart skip a beat when you see a spot of paint on a telephone pole, even though you know that you are nowhere near the trail? Do you dream of wandering endlessly down paths marked by those painted parallelograms?Will obsession consume me? Will I long to return to the world of blazes, the desire eating away at me day and night?Or will I just smile with nostalgia every time I pass one of those road crossings, thinking "I've been here before." as I continue on with my "real" life?Matt and I talked a lot about the future today after Jeralyn left for work. The future, and life, and happiness. How do we find happiness? What should we pursue in life? What do we value most?I think that living your life in a way that makes you happy is hard. You have to have the right attitude. You have to know how to work hard and how to let go. You have to put the effort into TRYING, to taking the risks and committing to what you think and hope will make your heart sing with contentment.Some days, I worry about the future. Most days, I think, "I'll worry about it after Katahdin! I want to enjoy this journey while it lasts!"Kelsey drove me back to the trail this morning (we found the correct road crossing with only one wrong turn, which was my fault), and I set off, up and over the easy hill to Norwich. After a few hours I reached Elm Street, which was bursting with trail magic, boxes and coolers at the end of practically every other driveway. I stopped to sign many trail registers, but only took two Oreos. I didn't need much magic (I still had most of my lemon bread, though I did have a big chunk for my morning snack), and left it for those that did.I also encountered Rabbit, ISO (which stands for "in search of"), Cambo (who I haven't seen since the Smokies), and other hikers stacking firewood at a house where they had stayed last night. I chatted with them briefly before moving on.I left a bag of extra snacks for Coco and Magnus with Stephen at Dan & Whit's General Store in Norwich. He promised to hold onto them until they make their way through town. I sent them a message to let them know where to go. Maybe they will even catch up to me soon!Then I headed into Hanover. ISO caught up to me and we walked the last mile or so together. We agreed over the amazingness of Vermont and discussed our favorite parts of the trail (independence, solitude, and freedom for me... some amazing wildlife encounters for him). When we reached the post office, we split. He went to greet friends sitting in front of Starbucks. I went to CVS to get a drink, since I was out of water (poor planning on my part).I think it is ridiculous that a bottle of water is so expensive in this country. It is cheaper to buy a liter of seltzer than a normal-sized bottle of water. Why is this?! Habitually, I usually carried a water bottle with me wherever I went anyway, to avoid this strange expenditure... and had forgotten how ridiculous it is here. In Korea, a bottle of water was about fifty cents. It can be more than three times as much here! Insane!So I didn't buy water, but went back to the post office to wait for Matt and Jeralyn, my favorite newlywed couple. They arrived and I crossed the street for a hug, tossed Gertrude in the trunk, and climbed in the back seat with Liza, their daughter (who is really a dog. Literally. A dog. An amazing dog. We bonded on the ride home.).They surprised me with a stop at a farm stand on the way, and we stocked up on fresh goodies. Matt made excellent chili (which is now all gone) which we enjoyed for lunch along with a fresh salad.And then we sat. And talked. We caught up. I asked about their honeymoon and they told me about all of the amazing things they did and saw (and ate!)They asked me about the trail and I told them about the mud, and my love affair with Vermont despite it.Jeralyn had to leave for work, leaving me sad but in good company. I talked with Matt for hours, enjoying the breeze and the view from their cute little home in the Vermont woods. They even have a nest full of baby chicks on their porch. It is like paradise.Watching them interact is endearing. They are so well matched, so complimentary in their actions, their willingness to help and support each other. It made me so happy to know that they are happy together, that they have a relationship with a mutual balance of give and take. Love like that isn't so easy to find.It also made me a little sad. Sometimes I miss having that type of relationship. Having a best friend to count on, to wake up next to and cook dinner with... I do miss that. Maybe someday I will have it again. Time will tell.Tonight, I am thankful for a bed. Most of all, I am thankful that the trail has not only brought me so many new friends, but has also helped me to reunite with old ones. What would I do without them?