Mile 534. Trust your feet.

Don’t worry about getting lost, Phoenix,” says Bunny with a soothing voice, full of wisdom and compassion.    The wheels of her red pick up truck create a gravel smoke as she pulls into the trailhead parking lot to let me out to start my hike for the day.  “Your feet always know the way.  Trust your feet.”

I am reminded of the many forks in the Trail.   Most are clearly marked with the famous white blaze.   Some of the forks, though, can be confusing.   On more than one occasion, I have continued down what my brain thinks is the Trail.   However, my feet stop mid-step; they know that something is not right.    And they are right.   Bunny is right.   The feet know.

With over 10,000 Appalachian Trail miles in her legs, Bunny is not just a shuttle driver and hostel caretaker; she is a mentor, coach, and source of strength for me.   She has through-hiked the Trail a whopping three times in the early 2000s; and, if that weren’t enough, she continued to section hike throughout Maine.  “You will love the Northeast,” she says knowingly.   I believe her.

“My body may be broken and tired, but my mind is like yours.   You have the right mindset, Phoenix.    You are going to make it all the way.”    I sit up straight and a feeling of nervous pride washes over me.   I need that encouragement as I cross the 500-mile threshold into the “serious hiker” world.   I’m in the Big Leagues now; and my planned 22-mile day is accepted practice.   

My thoughts shift to the goal I have set for myself:  Hike 2200 miles of mountainous terrain across 14 states within 6 months.   I get quiet again.  

“I can’t afford the luxury of a negative thought.   And neither can you,” says Bunny.  I’m not surprised that she can read my mind.  “Negative thoughts just put you in the victim mentality which leaves you powerless.   We have things to do, girl.   We have things to do.”   

I step out of the truck.  And I smile at the stickers all over it.   Bunny’s truck is a reflection of her beautiful soul - all of her heart on display for the world to see.   

I march toward the Trail head.   I have things to do.  I have things to do.