Date: 2005-01-15
To: oh the dreams
Miles today: 0.0

Last night I dreamed of being on a grassy stretch of hills finally hiking the trail. I felt, at last I was doing what I said I was going to do and all was good. There was a cool breeze and the sun was warm on my shoulders as the light cut through the fluff of clouds that only the night before had been mean with storms. The rain was evaporating from the saturated ground and there was a slight mist on the bogs of thick green and floral spotted grass. I kept thinking this was too perfect. I knelt down to filter water from the panes of glass that were puddles on the ground. I was dry, full of energy, my pack was light on my back full of anything I might need as well as a weeks supply of food. I was relieved to learn that the weight on my shoulders and the distance yet traveled did not bother, but rather excited me. As my confidence grew knowing I could do anything now that I am finally hiking, I noticed a water bottle on the side of the trail. I picked it up thinking someone could use this and that the ground was not the place for discarded gear. Ahead on the trail was a coat, again I picked it up and carried it. A ways further was a pair of leki poles, and again I picked them up. Still further there was a stuff sack, which when I picked up, hung loose with space but was without a string to tie closed. This perhaps explained why these things were strung about trail. I began to put the findings in the bag. As I reached in I felt the rustle of papers. The bag was full of loose crisp money and large dried clumps of reddish brown leaves. Over the crest of the next slow hill I saw a figure descend out of view, walking away. I moved forward and faster to catch the figure. The closer I got, the larger the figure became until I saw that there were two figures walking close together. I called to the people and they slowed allowing me to join them. One was a stern leathery old man, the other a younger somewhat brutish woman. I asked them if they had dropped any gear and I showed them the stuff sack I had found. They said they recognized the bag belonging to a guy who decided to leave the trail earlier that morning. Thinking that he couldn't be too far, I decided to back-track south. Traveling south was like walking to a party where everyone was just leaving. Many smiles still drunk with the novelty of their dreams underfoot as they stumbled to find their "trail legs" and joked about their bodies' pains on pains. I asked each traveler as they passed about the guy heading south just ahead. Some said he was further back, some said he was just ahead on the trail, but no one knew exactly where the guy was and every story told conflicted the next. I continued south on the trail until I reached the trailhead in Amicalola. The skies were now a dark blue-gray, the winds blew heavy in gusts but everything remained perfectly still and was quiet between each dry spray that smelled of ozone. I looked around at the ghost town of a post-season park complete with a photo booth, gear shop, and a bus stop. At the bus stop lying on a little blue bench was a young guy (about my age) with a thick brown curly beard. He was bare footed, wearing shorts and a blue T-shirt, his head rested on a folded green wool blanket about the size of a towel. I assumed it was his pack which was in the trashcan beside the bus stop sign. I asked the guy, "Do you recognize any of this gear?" He said, "Yea that's my stuff sack you got there." I asked him, "Why are you throwing your things away?" He replied, "I don't need them anymore." "So you are leaving the trail?" I asked. "No I am starting over." he said. I replied, "I may be new to hiking but don't you think you are taking the ultra-light concept too far." He snapped sharply, "no, I am a true purist." That comment annoyed me and I shot back sarcastically, "Now I understand, a 'true purist' does not need money or fancy gear, he just lives off the land and toughs through the elements." He did not reply. I asked, "Why then were you carrying a bag of money and leaves?" He thought for a moment, laughed then said, "You judge me for the way I hike, tell me how fun was all that weight to carry." "It sucked!" I exclaimed. "Of course it does and thank you," he replied pointing to the trash can as if to insinuate that I throw his stuff away. Thanks for what? I asked confused. "Doing my dirty work," He said. I replied "If you don't need all this stuff, I am keeping everything including the money." "Go ahead, consider it payment." he said. I hesitated and asked apprehensively, "What dirty work?" He said,"If nature gives us everything we need, what good use would money be." "I am not following you," I replied. Then he said snickering, "I left my trowel at home."I woke up laughing. I guess the moral is HYOH and don't carry too much s***.