Date: 2006-06-04
From: Seth Warner Shelter

To: Congdon Shelter
Miles today: 7.3
Weather: overcast clouds

about 5-6 years ago, amidst a brutal January in the Chicago suburbs...I, on pure impulse, sold my car...and didn't buy another one.It was a sports car, and it really wasn't taking to well to the snow. Beyond that, though, i was just at a point in my life where i felt overwhelmed...and I needed to find a way to slow it all down.I took the money from the car and paid off my debts...and i became a foot traveler.The place where i worked was about 6 miles from home, and if any of you has never struggled through a Midwestern winter, let me tell you, it's not fun.There were days in which i was walking in sub-zero temperatures...days in which i was walking in a foot of snow...and every now and then, both.But it didn't take long for me to feel happier, more at peace.I had succeeded at slowing life down. Instead of waiting for the last possible minute to leave for work, and then cursing at the vehicle in front of me for going 40 mph in a 45 zone...or for sitting at a red light waiting to turn right, when there is clearly no traffic coming....i was walking, alone with my thoughts, at my own pace...dictated only by me.And the thoughts come though so much more clearly when you actually allow yourself to have them.And life was simple...it was all about how i was going to get from point A to point B. There is a quote which I had heard once, "With freedom can come limitations and with limitations can come freedom."I now understood this quote more clearly than ever. When I had a car, I could go anywhere i wanted...but sometimes the reality of the ability to do everything, makes it difficult to do anything. Transported only by my feet, with my options were limited greatly...and my mind and my spirit reaped the benefits of freedom.As i finish off my hike tomorrow, and leave the trail...I realize that this is the same freedom that "we" hikers experience out here. We've surrendered all of the freedoms that we have out there in society, in order to strictly walk in a predetermined path...with a regimen (eat, walk, eat, walk, take a break, eat, walk, eat, sleep...repeat daily) that doesn't allow for much freedom at all.Our only options are whether we want to hike 10, 12, or 20 miles. Whether we want to eat a bag of tuna or a bag of Pop-tarts. Yes, there are road-crossings, and every time we pass them, for that moment of time we have other options...but somehow we are so automated by the routine, that we just keep walking.And through this all, we experience a freedom...intellectually, spiritually and emotionally.We experience a peace that none of us will know once we step off of this trail, and yet we know that we do have to step off of this trail, the same as i eventually had to buy a car.***that was my last hiker register entry at the Congdon Shelter***Most of my register entries have been short, and nothing more than a signing in. Occasionally, I've tried to drop a bit of humor or wit, it's always more pleasant for the future hikers.This being my last one, though, I wanted to reach inside and find something more.Today was actually a decent day. I hiked for a while with Nick. He was the one whose gear I moved last night when I showed up at the shelter. He is an English teacher from Phoenix, AZ.. He doesn't have a trail name yet. He actually just started hiking yesterday. He's hiking the Long Trail...another popular trail, which coincides with the AT for a stretch.Before we parted ways I ended up giving him "Running with Scissors". He had mentioned liking David Sedaris and Dave Eggers (two writers who seem to always be mentioned in the same breath with Burroughs), and said that he had been intending to read it. Besides:1. All of my other books that i have read out here, I have left at shelters for future hikers. "Running with Scissors", for those who haven't read it is the memoirs of a homosexual man who grew up in a dysfuntional pseudo-family, and it tells graphic tales of sexual abuse, as well as fortune-telling involving human feces...not exactly the typical hiker's reading material. Best to leave it in the hands of someone who i think would appreciate it.2. He was the first person who actually got "Yossarian", my trail name("from Catch-22?...awesome book," he said.) Most people look at me with a strange look, and say "your name is what?"...after about 3 times repeating it to a person, i generally say, "just call me Yo"Their confusion is understandable. Most trail names that i've encountered are pretty simple.Alot are self-effacing:"Falls Down a Lot", "Pokie", "Tortuga"and then there is another simple group: "Batman", "Moonman","Iceman", "Scoutman"and some get even simpler: "Taco", "Bleach", "Do-rag"It's a rare breed that chooses to have a complicated trail name.Tomorrow I will be hiking back to Massachusetts, mostly a road walk, into a town that has bus service to NYC.I'm going to spend a night there relaxing and cleaning myself up...the next day i will head home.still...none of this has truly sunk in.