Wednesday, August 10, 2005
The call of the wild
For a few months now (actually, ever since I arrived in Canada) I've been thinking how great it would be to explore a bit of this massive continent, and see what kind of place I've moved to beyond the concrete sprawl of southern Ontario. It struck me as an especially good idea in the absence of a job. But unfortunately I haven't managed to find anyone else in the same situation who I could travel with. Until now.
My friend Nina not only has her summer holidays (and therefore the rest of August) free, but loves travelling. So we're going to...wait for it...hike the Appalachian Trail together!!! This probably means nothing to most of you, so I'll explain. The Appalachian Trail runs 2100km up the eastern coast of America, from Georgia to Maine, over (for Brits) towering mountains and through townships of toothless inbreds who all call each other 'Mum'. It has maple trees and blueberries and all sorts of other funky north American stuff, not to mention slightly less funky stuff like bears, wolves, snakes, and various other things that can kill you.
My friend Nina not only has her summer holidays (and therefore the rest of August) free, but loves travelling. So we're going to...wait for it...hike the Appalachian Trail together!!! This probably means nothing to most of you, so I'll explain. The Appalachian Trail runs 2100km up the eastern coast of America, from Georgia to Maine, over (for Brits) towering mountains and through townships of toothless inbreds who all call each other 'Mum'. It has maple trees and blueberries and all sorts of other funky north American stuff, not to mention slightly less funky stuff like bears, wolves, snakes, and various other things that can kill you.
[Left: the Appalachians. Wow.]
It's the subject of Bill Bryson's book "A Walk in the Woods", which I started reading today in a fit of enthusiasm and excitement (it'll probably last until lunchtime on the first day of hiking). I'm only on chapter 1 so he's still in the preparatory stages (like me!) and not really sure what he's letting himself in for (again, like me):
"Nearly everyone I talked to had some gruesome story involving some guileless acquaintance who had gone off hiking the trail with high hopes and new boots and come stumbling back two days later with a bobcat attached to his head or dripping blood from an armless sleeve and whispering in a hoarse voice, "Bear!" before sinking into a troubled unconsciousness."
Hm. Admittedly we're not walking the whole trail (just the White Mountains part in New Hampshire - we'll be gone a week or so), but if the whole thing wasn't so cool and exciting I would definitely have my reservations. Nina's an experienced hiker. She's German (think Von Trapp family), and pretty fit. She also doesn't eat a whole lot. I can just picture hunger clawing at my stomach at lunchtime on the first day, while Nina strides ahead, energised by nothing more than lungfuls of fresh air. Help!!
[Below: Nina. I'm hoping her endless optimism will carry us through]
I also have no equipment, which means I either have to bankrupt myself, or stumble the trail for a week with damp clothes and trench foot and nothing but bread to fill me up. Or - the sensible option - I can borrow (fortunately, Nina's husband has lots of stuff - heck, he's probably the same shoe size as me).
Anyway, who cares about the 'what ifs'? The unknown parts just add to the coolness of the whole thing. And it'll make great blog : )
