The Best Event of the Year

Three of us—my brother, a friend and I—started off along the railroad tracks, one pack to share amongst us. It was warm, warm enough to elicit the comment, "It's bloody hot out here." It may be difficult to believe that this happened in forty-nine degrees or so, but if you have prepared for rain and high winds because of a dangerous storm breaking upon the area, and you are walking swiftly, it forces you to realize how subjective is the feeling of warmth or cold.

We strode on in high spirits: nine miles to go, two hours until sunset.

This storm that was to break upon us had been likened to the Columbus Day Storm (considering the reaction this statement caused, it must have been a somewhat fearsome storm). Notwithstanding, we strode boldly on, watching for the slightest sign of falling tree or mudslide, except for when we were talking too intently to bother about these highly unlikely occurrences.

Then we saw a mudslide. The bottom of the hill washed out and only the top of the hill was left unsupported, which was rather frightening. Then the top of the hill was washed along too, carrying us along with it, but fortunately in the direction we wished to go, as the wind was coming from the opposite direction, south-ish.

We did get rather carried away.

On we went along the trail. It was not long before the sprinkle of raindrops that had eased the heat increased to a drizzle.

We stopped for a bit to eat bread and chocolate. We were damper when we started on, and beginning to be chilly. The whole outing was no longer the jolly lark it had been, but had taken on more serious significance.

For most of the way we followed the path, but for a time we had to continue along a rock-covered road, with a plow field stretching away to our left, and fields and trees surrounding us. "Unlike the hobbits, we have a warm fire and food to look forward to," I remarked. I confess I did not find the thought all that comforting at that point, but only imagined I would when darkness fell.

We returned to the path and went on mile after mile. We tried to guess how far we had gone and how far we had yet to go, but decided we knew only that we did not know either.

Sunset came and went without remark. The sun had been hidden behind clouds all day, so its setting behind the horizon scarcely caused much effect, except that the air began to grow cooler. It grew darker, but so gradually that it was of no consequence. The light gradually faded until the forest about us appeared in grey-scale with an almost greenish hue to it. All that still held any brightness were the piles of snow gleaming along the edges of the path.

On we went until we could see no more than a few paces before us. The path gleamed like a dark lake, and the forest grew dimmer.

It seemed we would go on and on forever. Our friend — whose idea the expedition had been—kept assuring us that it was not much farther. With each repetition, it grew less assuring until it caused my brother to state, "I no longer believe in the end of the trail."

Then he began to sing: "This is the trail that never ends..." We joined in: "...it goes on and on my friends; some people started walking it not knowing what it was and they'll continue walking it forever just because..."

We halted after only a few short verses. After all its place as the song that never ends had been usurped.

The fallen branches littered the path before us more thickly and the darkness grew more oppressive. It was decided to bring out a flashlight, though it seemed a pity to spoil the darkness which still glimmered with the last rays of light that lingered where they were trapped beneath the grey-clouded sky. With the flashlight, though, we were able to avoid tripping over the rest of the branches and the tree that lay across the path.

Then we saw two red headlights shining before us.

Even as we came to the end of our journey, footsore and weary, it was difficult to rejoice in that sight. I at least did not wish to end our journey so soon, nor leave behind the forest which seemed to hold so many forgotten secrets.

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"How many people would be tough enough?" we asked when we spoke of future hikes. "How many people would want to?"

As to how far we walked, I do not know precisely, but it was around ten miles. It only took us about three hours. I daresay with a whole day we might have been able to go at least twice that and enjoy a leisurely pace.

If this in any way appeals to you, I highly recommend it. If, however, you dismiss it as too tame or difficult or whatnot else, I suppose it may be too late for you. Before you begin, I do have a few bits of advice:

1. Do not, on any account, wear cotton socks with your hiking boots unless you enjoy the sensation of walking ten miles with a bloody blister.

2. Bring a flashlight, but do not use it unless necessary.

3. Bring an emergency kit, just in case, but the most important item would be the bandages.

4. Be prepared for slight discomforts so that you do not fail after the first mile or so.

5. Bring plenty of water.

6. Either plan a loop for your journey, or have someone agree to pick you up at the end. "There and back again" journeys are pleasurable only when the way back is not exactly the same as the way there.

7. Bring me with you, if it is at all feasible.