2013 Following Atticus Gratitude Hike: The Trail and the Trek

My backpack with "Virtual FA Hikers" in tow

Arriving at the trailhead in our caravan of cars, we excitedly embarked on our journey. I don't know exactly what time it was when we got started, but I suspect we started later than planned. It was probably sometime after 10 am. The weather was cloudy but mild, ideal really. We wouldn't have to worry about sunburn on the summit for one thing, and the foliage against a grey background made it even more vivid. I discovered when I arrived in the White Mountains on Friday that the area has its own weather system. All day long throughout New York, Massachusetts, Vermont, and part of New Hampshire it had rained almost continually. I wondered how the rain would affect our hike, or if it would postpone it until Sunday. But as soon as the White Mountains came looming into view, the weather changed. It was cloudy but dry. It had not rained here. And, other than a few sprinkles, it did not rain until Sunday thankfully.

The sky seemed a bit gloomy, but the participants were not. Just the opposite. Everyone was full of smiles and excitement. Susan donned a crazy warm hat and made everyone laugh, Russ and his antics and stories provided entertainment all day. I was still "one notch below panic mode" in my inner being due to my nervous temperament but this quest to conquer my self-limiting lifestyle had to be accomplished. I had to "get comfortable with discomfort" and realize that I was "exactly where I was supposed to be." I tried not to fret about my "bad hair day" or not being able to wear the new powder blue in-remembrance-of-my-father fleece jacket I bought for the occasion because it was too warm and I could not fit it in my backpack. I could have worn the cute grey running jacket I did pack, but instead I wore my drab, old, but lightweight and comfy black running jacket that I could easily tie around my waist as I got sweaty. But everyone had cameras and they were snapping pictures. I dread being in pictures. I am not photogenic and am overly self-conscious. I really need to get over myself, and I tried on this trip, somewhat successfully. Michael kindly adjusted my backpack for me, which was sitting too low on my back. It felt much more comfortable higher, but still felt heavy. I had prepared for the hike by wearing the hiking boots on Indiana trails, and wearing a backpack with a few items thrown in for my 2 hour walks, but I had not loaded up the backpack with all the gear I would bring and gotten used to the weight. I discovered that fitness for one sport does not necessarily prepare you to be fit for another. I could run (jog) easily for miles, but climbing a steep hill that keeps going up, up, up relentlessly with a heavy pack on my back, over treacherous roots and rocks was another thing altogether. I was grateful for those who offered to carry my pack part of the way when they saw me struggling. Without the pack it wasn't hard to climb, but with it was a challenge. I was huffing some, needed to rest at times, and got tired. Occasionally I felt a little dizzy and disoriented which surprised me, but I hadn't had much breakfast. I was glad when we stopped for lunch along the way. I enjoyed my peanut butter and jelly sandwich, chips, and the very special sweet bread Jenn shared with us. Donna Jean shared homemade chocolate/peanut butter buckeyes with everyone, and the camaraderie between us all was wonderful.

One of my fondest memories along the trail is of Tom reaching out a hand to assist me over the rocky places. Another great memory is of Atticus leading the way in front of us, stopping at a large boulder, and turning his head to look at me. I wondered if I should help him. Tom was behind me and asked Atticus if he needed a boost. Tom gave Atti a helping hand and got him up on that large rock, and he merrily proceeded on his own from there. That was the only time I saw that Atticus needed a boost, as difficult as the terrain was becoming. What a trooper! He seemed to be feeling well in spite of what he has been through with the cancer treatments. It was heartwarming to witness the bond between Tom and Atticus. Best friends forever! I was delighted that Atticus seemed to like me too. I am not particularly a "dog person" and was not gushy with affection towards him. I did not have pockets full of treats as did others. But Atticus M. Finch seemed to give me his stamp of approval and accepted me into his discriminating circle of friends. He gave me a memorable gift, a poignant display of his uniqueness, when he came near me on the summit of his own volition and then hopped up right behind me onto a boulder to "summit sit" and gaze at the view. I won't forget that moment.

I never heard a sound from Atticus. He does not bark or whine. He speaks with his eyes and with his "smile". He is otherwise "all business"...a very serious, pensive soul. I've never met anyone like him of any species. It is hard to think of him as a dog. Sure, he's a canine, but he is more than that. It is hard to explain or fathom. I once enjoyed a special bond with an Appaloosa horse named Tandi in my youth. This horse was "more than a horse" to me. He was my special friend and we communicated in a special way, soul to soul. I never knew another horse like him either. It is a rare and precious thing to bond with someone in this way, whether man or beast. (Sometimes I'm not sure which species is the beast!)

I traveled the trail with various walking partners from time to time. The trail started out very scenic and easy to traverse for about a mile or so. I found it very easy going, and Tom remarked about how fast I was covering ground. I was in my element on this portion of the trail. I enjoyed chatting with Russ and others along the way, and especially enjoyed just being with my daughter in the great outdoors. There was pretty foliage, soft pine needles on the forest floor, a scenic bridge over a rocky stream, a fairly wide path that went up and down and around. I was just loving this trail.....but then it got steep. We got to the "mountain climbing" portion. It got so difficult in places that I wondered why Tom had brought us here. What was he thinking? What if these rocks and roots were wet. We would be in peril. Injuries would likely occur amongst us newbies. Even the experienced hikers were relating injury stories. One had fallen recently and hit his head on the rocks, bleeding. This was dangerous, rugged mountain climbing! No wonder Tom had asked that those not up to hiking a mountain not participate. He wanted to show some people what he experiences in these mountains, and it was supposed to be for those who could handle it. What was I doing here, I wondered? What were some of the others doing here who had physical limitations, bad knees, etc. And one was a smoker who had to refrain from smoking all day! Tom had expected some wouldn't make it all the way to the summit. He thought some would rest at a lower elevation, still getting some nice views, and wait for the others to ascend to the summit and return, joining us on the way back. I thought I'd be one of those waiting at a lower elevation. But there were experienced hikers urging us "onward, by all means." We heard "hiker fibs" (as it turned out) that we were "almost there," "just a little further," "right around the next bend." We pressed on, and somehow, slowly but miraculously, we ALL ended up on the Summit.

Summit City?

By this time I was exhausted. I just wanted to sit down and rest. The 360 degree view was spectacular. I wandered around the large rocky summit in awe. The sky was a serious looking grey, although the sun broke through briefly. There was a message in it, but I didn't know what it was. It put me in a somber mood briefly. I asked the LORD, "Why am I here? What is the message?" I had brought a very special little Gideon's New Testament/Psalms that Denise had brought home from school in 5th grade, and I had planned to pull it out of my backpack and read a psalm and spend some quality time with God on top of the mountain (if I made it to the top). But the frivolity of such a large number of people up there did not lend itself to the occasion. Besides our group, many others had made the climb, some with large dogs, including a couple of Chows. I was worried for Atticus when they came along, but there were no dog fights thankfully. There were groups of young people in sandals being silly and foolish, one doing cartwheels up there, and other distractions. Plus, everyone had a camera, and I didn't want to make a spectacle of myself by reading the Bible and maybe being a photo op for someone. I regret my decision though. I should have found a quiet place alone somewhere and did what I set out to do. I don't have the answers yet to my questions, and I missed a potentially meaningful spiritual encounter with the Living God.

I have no idea what time it was when we were ready to descend the mountain after our group photo, or how long it had taken us to make it to the top. The sign at the trailhead stated the distance to the top was 2.7 miles. I could have traversed a flat trail in less than an hour, but it probably took us 3 hours to do this one with all our stops, waiting for others to catch up, and catching our own breath. It was both harder and easier on the descent. Harder, because we had to watch our step very carefully, sometimes walking on sheer rock, sometimes traversing treacherous loose rocks and roots. Again, Tom reached out a hand to help me. He did this for others as well. I was praying that no one would get hurt. It was easier, though, on the downgrade, because we weren't huffing and puffing as on the ascent. And it took less time with fewer stops along the way. I spent most of the time with my new friend Donna Jean from Ohio, the smoker. I had to give her credit for her tenacity in doing this. She is an incredible woman, witty, warm, and personable. We got along well. It started to get darker along the trail and I remembered that darkness descends on the forest before more open places. Would we make it to the trailhead before nightfall? I hoped so. We did not hear anyone up ahead and didn't know how far we were from the others ahead of us. At one point we wondered if we were lost because the trail started going uphill again. I hadn't remembered that the terrain varied like that. But there didn't seem to be any other trail that we could have veered off on so we kept going. Others were quite a ways behind us and I feared some would not make it back before dark. I prayed for them and hoped they remembered to bring flashlights or headlamps. I knew experienced hikers would have been with the slow ones, but I wasn't sure which ones they were. I knew Tom and Atticus were well ahead of us somewhere. Donna Jean and I joked that we would have been satisfied with a short walk on the easy stretch of trail to the scenic bridge and back. Why did he have to take us all the way to the top of a difficult mountain to climb? We were getting very tired at this point and a little nervous about being alone in the forest as night descended. We were not completely alone, as another small group was behind us a little ways. As it turned out, Tom and Denise arrived at the parking lot only 3 minutes before we did, but at the time we felt alone. It was nice to be "alone" though. I noticed more about the scenery than on the way up. It was very beautiful and peaceful in these woods. We stopped on the scenic bridge for a bit. I had hardly remembered it. I must have been engaged in frivolous conversation at the time. I remember Russ and I and some others were sharing stories about our pets from our hippie days, including reminiscing about my cat Osley who was thrown off the top of a 5 story building by a crazed hippie on LSD. He had 3 broken legs and a broken nose, but Angell Memorial had fixed him up and he survived.

Finally we arrived back at the trailhead at dusk. We were never so glad to see a parking lot. The others were milling about talking about the need to change the dinner reservation to an hour later. I had not planned to attend the dinner anyway. I knew it would be too ambitious to expect anything out of me after the hike than a quick bite to eat and an early bedtime. Some had to leave to get ready for the dinner at the Thompson House Eatery, but some of us remained to wait for the other hikers.

Atticus was sleeping in the front seat of Tom's car. I joined him in the back seat using my backpack for a pillow. I was so tired...and cold. I see why we needed to bring additional clothing. After sunset, the temperature dropped significantly. I wished I had been able to pack my fleece jacket, but my grey one over my little black jacket sufficed, along with my winter hat. I got to watch Atticus drink water from his cup in the cupholder and mentioned to Tom that he needed more. I prayed that the others would make it back okay and was gratified to hear the sound of applause and praise from Tom and the others when they did make it out safely after dark. What a day! What an adventure! What an accomplishment for us all! We got into our cars and traveled back to Jackson. We had to make a stop at Rachael's house to pick up Will, and I was thrilled that Tom chose to put him on my lap in the back seat. At one point, Will snuggled with his face in my armpit. Sweetest dog I ever met.

Finally we got back to the Inn. I realized that I was feeling very comfortable and that the nervous "one notch lower than panic mode" feeling had dissipated somewhere along the trail. It had been a day of transformation. In spite of the difficulties, or maybe because of them, I had conquered a mountain in more ways than one.

View from South Moat Mountain on 10/5/13