I felt like I was starting the trail all over again. It was so different going solo.... so liberating. I hadn't realized how much hiking with Firefly had influenced me. If I heard her get up, I might as well get up too. If she wanted to go out to an overlook, fine, I'll go but it better be good. Even if we weren't hiking near each other we influenced each other. We would agree on where to stop or meet up. We would wait for each other at significant landmarks for pictures. Now I could do what I want. Sleep in? Oh yes. Check out the trail to the view? Sure, it was my choice. Tired after 10 miles? Yeah, I can stop at noon.
With my newfound freedom I went a mile down a side trail, following the stream as it got bigger and wider and ended in a 200' waterfall. It was hot, and the water looked refreshing. I yelped as I dipped my head under a cascade of frigid water. It felt amazingly and painfully addicting.
I was so frustrated with how people were trying to push big miles. Hadn't we come here to escape civilization's hurry hurry over-productive lifestyle? I heard people brag of how they were doing 20 miles every day. It seemed that there was some sort of underlying competition; who could make it to Katadhin fastest? Who could do the most miles? There was humble bragging in many of the logbooks of hikers' 30 mile days.
There is a common phrase used on the trail: Hike your own hike (HYOH). People often quote this to let hikers know they are allowed to do what they want, that every one has a different style and way of doing things. Everyone should have their own experience. I think 'hike your own hike' is a myth. Whether aware of it or not, everyone is constantly influenced by others. The mileage, pace, zeros, and towns are determined by the majority. To truly HYOH without caring what others do or think about you takes a different breed of human. Since some people were going big miles, everyone felt they had to to keep up and do more as well.
I was once again the only one at camp. I prayed there would be others coming in, I didn't want to be alone. When God answers prayers, He answers them big. Two people came in. Then four. They trickled in over the next four hours by twos and threes until there were over 25 people camped out around me. I joined a group at the fire for dinner. I had just been eaten by an amoeba of a hiking bubble. They all knew each other and I was engulfed into their group.
Devils Marbleyard. Some locals had pointed it out to me the day before from a view off Skyline Drive. It had appeared to be a white scar in the land. Now I stood at the side trail that would lead me there. It would be about three miles extra, but I wanted to let Firefly catch up so it would kill time.
The trail opened to a landslide of massive boulders, the white stone gleaming in the sun. I smiled; time to play. I love rock scrambling. I think it is the closest thing to being a kid again, a pure form of free motion we are all born with, but is often beat out of us because it is "dangerous." I lept and scrambled, enjoying the climbing and jumping, movements so different than the monotony of walking. The only thing missing was someone to share it with.
The people I had camped with the previous night had gone into town, so they had done a short day as well. I got to know a few of them a little better at the shelter. Could this be my new group? If I stuck around them Firefly would never catch up. Should I wait for her or keep pushing on with this new group? I hate making decisions, and I don't like to wait.
What the heck, why not go 18 miles to the shelter with a swimming hole? Everyone else was doing it. I really enjoyed these people's company. (See what I mean about HYOH?)
Throughout the hike Firefly and I talked about how hiking together was good practice for marriage. We had to make decisions together and compromise, sacrifice and talk problems out. Just like being married, I suppose. The only difference is she is a girl, and I imagine it would be different communicating with a husband. I would consider this time alone like being "separated." Only time would tell if we would go through a "divorce." So, being separated, I was going to enjoy myself and do what I wanted, as we were thankfully not committed to each other with vows. (This is all figurative of course... with a true marriage there would be much more commitment.)
I crossed the 800 mile marker, the first one without Firefly. My feet were in pain when I got to the shelter and was disappointed to find that the "swimming hole" didn't exist. It had started to sprinkle and cool off anyway, so I just soaked my feet as I welcomed others to the shelter. I was torn as I got to know this new group better. Firefly was delayed another day with tent problems and I was getting impatient. It looked more and more like she wouldn't catch up. And I was starting to be ok with that idea.
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