The Good, the Bad, and the Fractured

The Appalachian Trail works in strange and mysterious ways.

About three weeks ago on our way out of Damascus, I began to experience some severe pain in my right foot. I tried to ignore it so that we could maintain our pace but by Pearisburg my foot hurt so badly I had to hobble into town. Wheels refused to let me keep hiking so we stayed in town for a few days to rest and see if we could figure out what was wrong. I was 90% sure it was a stress fracture, but I didn't want to admit it to myself since that would mean days maybe weeks off the trail. I bought some new insoles from Walmart for my worn-down boots, hoping that would make the difference and at least make hiking possible until we reached a bigger town where I could see a doctor.

We were a week away from my birthday, which happened to fall on the anniversary of 2 full months on the trail. I wanted desperately to make it to that major checkpoint so we decided to hike to Daleville before making any decision about staying or going home. My dad generously offered to drive all the way from Missouri and meet us out there with my extra set of boots and provide us with a free ride home if we received bad news about my foot.

Wheels and I spent the 6 day stretch between Pearisburg and Daleville discussing our options, our motivation to complete the trail, and what we would do if my foot didn't get better. It was the first time we honestly gave ourselves an "out" if we wanted to take it. At this point, every step I took hurt like hell and it was hard to convince myself that I was still enjoying the hike. We both had a bad case of the "Virginia Blues" and the trail leaving Pearisburg didn't help us feel better. Large sections of the trail had been rerouted and were overgrown. Each day we were faced with 2,000 ft climbs and descents over rocky and unforgiving terrain -- my boots no longer offering an ounce of support.

I felt exhausted and angry at the trail. I wasn't having fun anymore and feared serious long-term damage to my foot. The pain in the top of my foot was causing ancillary issues from my hip flexor all the way to my right elbow, which was bearing the extra load from using my trekking poles. Clouded by discomfort and frustration, I began to think about all of the opportunities and options waiting for me back home. Between missing my cats and thinking about how much money, time, and freedom I would have if I got of the trail, I was on the brink of quitting.

The minute that I began flirting with the idea of going home, the AT flooded me with reasons to stay. Our second day heading to Daleville we encountered a deer and her fawn scampering down the trail just a few feet away. We spotted three red salamanders followed by four beautiful black snakes and a few garter snakes that slithered by. At the end of the day, we stumbled into "The Captain's", a former thru-hiker who opened his backyard up to hikers to tent. It just so happened that he had caught 2 coolers full of fresh trout that he planned to fry up and serve with hush puppies and homemade cobbler that night. He set us up with a couple of beers and we spent the evening commiserating with fellow hikers and were relieved to hear almost everyone was experiencing the same frustrations we were.

The next morning we headed out and at noon ran into a group of former thru-hikers that were grilling and drinking just a few miles from where we planned to camp that night. We stopped and talked (and ate and drank) with them for a few hours, as they reflected on their thru-hiking experience and enviously listened to ours. It was quickly becoming obvious that if we wanted to quit and go home, the trail wasn't going to let us go without a fight.

The 5th day out was June 2nd, my birthday. We were running out of food but I had saved a S'mores Poptart for my special birthday breakfast. A mile into the day we were thrilled to come across 2 coolers filled with soda, Gatorade, water and one Yoohoo. I snagged the Yoohoo and Wheels grabbed a root beer so we would have something zazzy to drink with lunch. We stopped at a creek just shy of our campsite in the early afternoon to soak our feet and cool a couple of beers we'd packed out for my birthday. While we were sitting there, a group of trail maintainers came over with raspberry lemonade and homemade cookies. I was beside myself with joy -- homemade cookies on my birthday! I couldn't believe we'd run into so much magic on what was by all accounts just a random Monday.

The last day before Daleville includes a climb up to Dragon's Tooth, an amazing monolith that juts high into the air. Sections of the climb down are technical, with metal rungs hammered into nearly vertical stone. Wheels and I hiked as briskly as we could -- an impending thunderstorm was looming in the sky and the air was thick with moisture. We managed to make it down and into the safety of a gas station convenience store where we ate pizza and hot dogs while waiting for my dad to come pick us up.

Once in town I managed to get a last minute appointment with a podiatrist. The x-rays confirmed that it was indeed a stress fracture and that I had been hiking the last 300 miles on a broken foot. The podiatrist had seen a lot of hikers in the past so she knew it was futile to convince me to "rest". She gave me prescription insoles and recommended a carbon graphite shoe insert to reduce movement and mimic a medical boot so that my foot can start to heal without taking more than a few days off.

We spent the next two days hanging out with my Dad, whom we donned with the trail name "The Transporter". We drove a section of the Blue Ridge Parkway and took him for a 2 mile hike out and back to one of the AT shelters for a picnic. We brought extra fruit, vegetables, soda, and beer to spread some magic of our own -- it was exciting to be on the giving end of trail magic. It was a great day and a wonderful visit with my dad.

While we were hit pretty hard with the Virginia Blues after Damascus, I'm feeling hopeful about the next stretch. We've got just about 300 more miles to go before we hit Harper's Ferry, WV and then we'll be a week from the halfway point. Reaching the halfway point in Boiling Springs, PA has been a personal goal since the beginning of this adventure. I was first introduced to the AT in Boiling Springs-- walking there from Georgia has been a sort of pilgrimage for me.
It is tough to say what we will do when we reach the halfway point. We've discussed going home from there and completing the second half in sections. It is funny though, each time we consider getting off the trail we tell ourselves, “let's wait until the next town and decide from there”, and like clockwork, we get into town and tell ourselves, “let's wait until the next town and decide from there”.

The Appalachian Trail works in strange and mysterious ways. I hate it. I love it. I don't understand it....

But, by god, I'm hiking it!

-Catnip

Enjoying homemade cookies on my birthday

Former thru-hikers provided us with trail magic after leaving
"The Captain's"

The second largest oak tree on the AT -- it was 300 years old and
18 ft around.

Wheels pretending to be a cavity in The Dragon's Tooth

Eating good in the neighborhood with "The Transporter"

Picnicing at the Bobblet's Gap Shelter just off the Blue
Ridge Parkway with The Transporter.

Me and The Transporter hanging out on the Blue Ridge Parkway