Musings of a Thru-Hiker
By Gary Shealy
Tellico Gap
"Now you do not need to be afraid of the dark any more,
nor fear the dangers ... nor dread the plaques of darkness."
Psalm 91
"Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep,
if I die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take."
A child's prayer
I continued to review the maps by the dim light of the single cell solitaire until the bulb began to weaken. I folded the maps and carefully placed them in the pocket of the pack, and realized that my evenings had already developed into a precise routine. At night, the last thing before closing my eyes, I carefully check the screw top lids on the water bottles to ensure no accidental spillage during the night, I check the placement of pack, boots, and cook-kit. The cook-kit is always farthest from my head if it is not hung with the bear bags. Over to the right, I place my watch and flashlight. The flashlight is tied to the drawstring of one of the stuff sacks so that it can be easily found. A pillow is fashioned from clean clothes, as available, and any wet items such as socks, shorts, or shirt are either stuffed into the sleeping bag to dry via body heat during the night, or they are left out in the night air. Each item is in its place.
The entire tent is neatly arranged. The flaps are stretched out allowing ample breeze and preventing any undesirable condensation in the tent. The tradeoff is in the event of heavy rain, then it will be necessary to crawl outside in the rain to tie down the tent flaps in order to prevent drenching the contents of the tent. This procedure gives rise to cool clamoring chills that penetrate to the bone. No surer method exits for arousing a sound sleeper. Considerable time is then required to regain sufficient body warmth to stop the convulsive chattering and uncontrollable shivering. Internally the body races from a completely inactive state to painfully conscious activity. Finally the shock is overcome and restful sleep is nearly regained. The ensuing rest is not near so sound, as the body remains partially alert invoking some protective mechanisms to ensure that such shocks are not repeated. The decision to leave the tent flaps up is not one to be made lightly.
In my last conscious moments, I remember hearing the wind rustle the leaves; the woods are silent except for the creaking of nylon cord under the strain of food bags swinging in the night air. The tent is zipped tight as if the ultra thin nylon chosen for its light weight offers protection from anything out in the night. No doubt it is another ritual that has been carried over from life in the city. At night the doors are tightly shut, and dead bolts are securely locked. The familiar feel and smell of home, favorite pillow, and the comforting sound of the heat pump's whirl, the icemaker's gurgle, and occasional neighborhood traffic adds to one's sense of security at home. Even a distant siren is not terribly disturbing. Yet one strange thump or unexplained clank, and all the security vanishes. The inhabitants of the house are left wide-eyed, listening intently, very still, concentrating and trying to determine the source of the sound: did the dishwasher break again? perhaps, a limb fell on the roof? was it just the ice shifting in the icemaker, just the wind? or maybe it was something more sinister?
None of the familiar sounds of home are heard in the woods above Tellico Gap. The sounds of nighttime in the woods are very different. No traffic, no trains, no sirens, no icemakers, just silence and the wind? Even when physically exhausted the senses continue to strain to identify every sound. Just the rustle of the leaves, and nylon stretching under the weight of the food bags. Are the bags high enough, out of reach? Is it the wind or some other nighttime visitor making the nylon creak? At home one might be tempted to turn on a light, ward off the darkness, and see what is so very close. A small flashlight is of little use other than to entice greater fear. The tent is taught, and no strong food odors are present. Perhaps it would have been wise to hang the cook-kit and also the clothes that were worn to cook in along with the food bags. Too late now to let that be a concern. Meals should always be prepared down wind away from the campsite so that the aroma from cooking and eating is carried away and not back into the tent and sleeping area.
Longer days and greater physical exertion will help replace the comfort afforded by the missing city noises, and slowly security and comfort must be found in the openness and stillness of the woods. For now, prayer could not hurt.
Peace,
Slim