Best Laid Plans / This Too Shall Pass

Appalachian Trail in The Great Smokies National Park, NC/TN

Plans, events, gatherings ... these words, these moments, meant something so different a few short weeks ago than they do today. We all had them & we’re all navigating through the roller coaster of emotions about having lost them. In our best moments, we’re learning how to pivot, how to change course, accept that which we cannot control and move forward. In those other moments of defeat, we feel disappointed, sad and angry. We feel stuck, like our legs are made of stone and we’re sinking in the mud.

Today I was supposed to join the National Parks Conservation Association on Capitol Hill in Washington, D.C. I was invited to lobby Congress with them, to have meetings with Senators and Representative Members, to share my individual experiences on trails and how I guide others in enjoying our sacred spaces. We were going to be talking about how important the need for funding is, especially in this time of climate change to continue the good work on projects like park maintenance. It was an opportunity I was humbled and honored to be a part of, and it was something I was looking forward to sharing with all Girl Gotta Hike hikers and followers.

So it didn’t happen because Covid-19 did. But that doesn’t mean that supporting our parks is not still important. We just have to approach it differently. Right now our focus needs to be on something bigger. We have to all stay safe and socially isolated now so that we can get back out enjoying our parks together again, once the nation has overcome this mountain of infection and has had time to heal.

So what can I do? I can and will of course encourage you to donate to the NPCA and I can also share a story from my own experience thru-hiking the Appalachian Trail, which is coincidentally, my favorite National Park.

In late March of 2011, my father and I were just a few weeks and about 165 miles in to our planned journey on the AT. We had backpacked from Springer Mountain, Georgia all the way to Fontana Dam, North Carolina when we received word that my maternal grandfather was on his deathbed. We rushed to get off trail, got a shuttle ride to Asheville, and then hopped a series of commuter flights in order to try to get back home and see him one more time. Sadly, on our second layover, we got word that he passed. 

When we got home we were able to spend quality time connecting and grieving with our relatives, and sharing what we had learned about ourselves and our ability to overcome physical and mental hardships out on the trail. Even though I had only been continuously backpacking for three weeks at that point, I knew that my body and my brain could carry me through situations I would have never thought possible previously, be it sadness or snowstorm.

When we did re-emerge back on trail in The Great Smokies National Park a week and a half later, having lost some of our trail legs and having fallen behind the other hiking friends we had made, we were able to work through our heartache and pain, bit by bit, by continuing to just put one foot in front of the other. We quickly established new friendships with other hikers and while the future was unknown and foggy, we knew had them and each other to lean on, and those connections were all the light at the end of the tunnel we needed.

Stay strong. Stay safe. Our parks and our people will be there for us, no matter what comes to pass.

View from Shuckstack Fire Tower, in The Great Smokies Nat’l Park from Melissa’s 1st day back on AT after a 9-day hiatus.

A very cold Melissa, a.k.a. “Click,” and her dad, “LongTime” on their first day back on the AT, April 5th, 2011.