#013 Adapting to New Realities
I’ll do it in remembrance of the dream a father and his son once shared
In 2016 Mosey and a few of our friends hiked from Bly Gap to Fontana Dam in two separate trips. I missed the first one due to an out-of-town family obligation and the second when helping my son deal with some of his issues.
Still hoping to hike the whole trail in 2018 with my son, missing the section wasn’t a big deal. Though new realities in our lives began revealing themselves.
My then sixteen-year-old son was no longer interested at all in spending five months on a trail. Or much of anything for that matter. He was drifting farther away and dealing with bigger consequences for choices. It was clear that he was not interested in being helped by anyone. My wife and I did the best we could in the short periods of time he did come around.
Around the same time, my wife was about half-way through seminary and began to voice her concerns of my being gone for five months on the trail, with or without my son. Understandably so, 2018 was beginning to look like a year full of changes with her graduation ceremony, which we figured would lead to a big cross-country job search for her and a move for us. If moving for her new job, we would have to sell of my business and our house. I decided that it would be selfish of me to take off for that long during that transition period. But I still wanted to hike the trail.
It may appear to the reader that my backpacking and travel ambitions overshadow everything else. I assure you the opposite is true. The vast majority of my travels occurred during periods of time when my son had separated himself from me. Many of my trips to the wilderness were a result of those separations. My dream was to travel with him, or do anything with him.
Feeling rejected, vanishing into the wilderness often provided a release for my anxieties and a temporary reprieve from depression. It helped me find my balance, gave me time to meditate, to seek peace, find meaning. When people asked if my trips were fun I would say yes for the sake of the conversation. Though traveling with my friends is fun, fun wasn’t the usually the ultimate point for me. Only a few people asked the right question, “Did you find your peace out there?”
In January 2017 Mosey and I were sitting on a boulder watching friends climb the rocks around a waterfall. I told her that I was canceling my through-hike and why. She and I had talked for a few years about her being my ground support, by periodically mailing resupply boxes and gear at the changing of seasons or terrain. She was going to assist in some logistics. She’s great at working out out the logistical part of traveling, with a special love for trail travel. Having a family of her own, she is quite aware that things come up that can change plans. Nonetheless, I felt like I was taking something away from her.
But it was time to formulate Plan B.
I learned a long time ago that the best way to make things happen is to simply begin. Begin talking about it as though it’s all been figured out. Begin behaving as if all the parts are already in motion. Begin making small moves towards the goal. Begin believing that it’s already happening.
For me, it is a blessing and a curse.
The blessing is that I have achieved a lot in my life with that nugget of wisdom. See a goal, reach it. See a problem, fix it. See a need, fill it.
The curse is that once I begin moving in a direction, I’m like a machine with no off button. If I’m determined I’m unstoppable. It is difficult for me stop something once it has begun, even when it’s technically ok to stop. If a situation forms that I can’t control I begin working around it to achieve a similar outcome.
Hiking the A.T. has been a goal set in motion the moment my son asked when we were going to hike it when he was young. It’s not something I had desired to do before that moment, but since that moment finishing the trail has been the decisive goal.
If we can’t do it all in one season, and if he has lost the desire to do it, then I’ll do it for the both of us, one section at a time.
I’ll do it in remembrance of the dream a father and his son once shared.
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The story is just getting started.
The next few posts take us on a week long journey across the Smoky Mountains by way of the A.T., which I think are more eventful than the Georgia hike.
Then we will get to the 2018 phone call leads to dark places. To hard nights. To struggling. To the wilderness to cope. To the slow recovery. To more trail stories.
…..se ya on the other side…..