Green Grass Grows

Promise delivered, your late Big Al Project. I was busy trekking the White Mountains, the gnarliest 80-mile section of the Appalachian Trail. I managed this in 6 days, even after pulling my calf on day 2 and not waking up any earlier than 9:30 (screw you, I can be proud of myself). This athletic stunt only requires the reckless use of your time and a stubborn attitude. I had just quit my job, and a psycho challenged me to complete the section in a week. Twist my arm. I, too, am a psycho.

     Pack your bag and walk until you need food or sleep. No skills or preparation required. There are no points to amass or enemies to slay. Simplicity is beauty. Your hours of wandering lead to thoughts seldom explored. So here you are, facing the heavenly hourglass. Each grain of sand is a moment funneling into the present, slipping into the past. Time slows down, provoking observation and introspection. Where the future meets the past, we have the agency to act. In the land of what should be, you march through the pines, up the hills of determination, and down the slopes of perseverance.

     Determination and perseverance indeed. A masochist designed the trail, choosing the rockiest ascent and no switchbacks. My calf muscles felt like old rubber bands as I hopped rock to rock. The line between hiking and climbing blurred. No fall zones and technical lines. Then the dicey downhill. Each step was violent. I held on to the trees and roots and anything in grasp to avoid the fast way down. My femur assaulted my kneecap. I began to appreciate the uphill.

     I can see why completing the Appalachian Trail is more than just an athletic feat; I could write a book on just these six days. From the F-15 jets spiraling over South Kinsman to navigating the ridgeline on Mount Madison in pea soup fog. And the wonderful souls along the way. A software engineer, a chemist, and a group of French Canadians. A girl who lived across the street from me in Brooklyn. Euphoric times, filled with deep conversations and sunny peaks. Desperate scrambles, illegally setting up camp in a dense forest to avoid getting struck by lightning. Cherish the little ups and downs. Highs and lows. Crests and troughs. Yin and Yang. We must stay present, for the future is near.