April 14, 1997 (Day 26 – milepoint 255.2 – Roaring Forks Shelter)

Nine large pancakes for $3.00 and a $1.00 shuttle back to the trail. Hail Mountain Mama’s!

Davenport Gap marks the end of the Smokies. The 70 miles through the Park were my favorite so far.

I went 21 miles today and I can barely stay awake to write. The last 30 minutes of my hike was dark but with enough light from the half moon that I didn’t need my headlamp. I had plenty of energy today but my feet barked and whined incessantly for the last few miles. It looks like my daily-limiting factor will be how much I can stand the pain in my feet

I’m joined in the shelter by Lewis and Clark, Little Toe, and Stogie. These guys are insane! The only reason I’m still awake is because I can’t stop laughing.

Highlight of the day: Max Patch, a man-made bald at approximately 4600′ with the sun setting behind the Smokies.

Aquaholic

April 14, 2009

Hey Aquaholic,

I have been reconnecting with people from all parts of my life on an interactive social networking website called Facebook. There are a lot of stories to tell about who I’ve connected with and how different people have evolved, but there is one in particular that has been especially enlightening for me.

There was this one girl in college at a party on a random winter evening. Strong connection that led to me walking her home. This girl and that night always occupied a place in me that I never resolved. (You know what I’m talking about.)

While walking her home I remember feeling good and hoping I would see her again. In a flash, things got hot and I’ve always felt it went too far and was frustrated that we did not exercise more restraint. She was crying as she went into her house, which surprised me and shook me up a bit. I had had enough to drink to question my judgment. I felt confused and guilty. I was in a position of trust walking her home and was terrified that I had broken it and possibly wronged her in some way. I was entirely disappointed with myself.

A day or two later she came to my dorm with friends to retrieve a garment or something I had of hers. I was too scared and immature to pull her aside and ask how she felt, if she was okay. In my guilt-ridden state, I sensed that her friends were with her to protect her. Having known them since childhood I felt I had broken their trust, too. I hoped that over time I would reconnect with this girl again but I never did…until a couple of months ago on Facebook, almost 20 years later.

We exchanged a couple of short notes and I then told her I was unresolved about our brief encounter. She welcomed the dialogue, so I took a deep breath and put it out there.

Her response: not a clear memory of the event, vague feelings of her own guilt and disappointment. No ill feelings toward me. Not then, not ever. Her friends were just there that day hanging out. She, in fact, really liked me. She never told anyone about the encounter. Come to think of it, neither did I.

So, the point I’m trying to make here is that I held onto this uncertainty, this little piece of unnecessary weight, for almost 20 years. It would have resolved itself painlessly if I just had the courage to ask if she felt okay. I know now that she was. And that she is.

And the weight is gone.

O’