The joys of wild ponies

Some short days but I made it to Atkins. On the 3rd we did 11.8 miles to Wise Shelter that was at precisely 500 miles, a good place to spend the night. On the 4th we did 10.9 miles to Hurricane Mt Shelter walking through friendly pony fields of joy. On the 5th we did 13.4 miles and camped 1.5 miles after VA 670 along a stream. On the 6th we did 13.4 miles to Chatfield Shelter to set up for an easy day into Atkins. So far on the 7th we have done 4.5 miles into Atkins and plan on doing another 4ish after we finish eating all the food and resupplying.

Leaving Whitetop Mt we had a fairly intense thunderstorm. This included hail and zero count thunder and lightning. When over 5k feet and basically in the clouds, zero count lightning is impressive yet somewhat disturbing. Later in the day we had our first pony sighting, which made everything better. If you were wondering if wild mountaintop pony foals have the power to make a grown woman squeal in delight and bounce up and down... They do. Also, if you are directly looking at a wild pony, saying the word "pony" automatically makes you smile and the end of the word is done in a little girl voice. I've tried to fight it, and lost.

On that note, Grayson Highlands is an outrageously amazing place. Imagine if you will a rocky mountaintop field that goes for 7ish miles and is jam packed with wild pony herds, deer and enough bunnies that I saw at least 3 fat ones bounce down the trail in front of me. To sum it up, if there was a scene in a Disney movie that took place on top of a mountain and starred a princess it would basically look like this. Unfortunately, on the first day in the highlands no ponies really wanted to be friends. Oh, and we slept in the shelter at exactly 500 miles!

The next day changed our pony luck, though. We came over a rise and were at once in a pony herd. UV ventured out to say hi and quickly made a friend. Apparently wild ponies are fond of licking the saltiness of dirty hikers. We act as large mobile salt licks that are conveniently delivered directly to the ponies. The pony that we befriended was named Charlize because she was pregnant and had a mohawk. UV felt it was a good name for an edgy mom pony. (photos below)

The only other exciting thing that happened was hitting Partnership Shelter. This is a shelter that you can order pizza from and take a shower! Unfortunately, we didn't hit the shelter in the 4pm to 7pm window for pizza and we hadn't been making good miles, so we pushed on. On the bright side, my feet are starting to feel better after this string of shorter days. Maybe we can do a few more miles now.

----**** Warning ****----
The following includes trail thoughts and philosophy that might make absolutely zero sense but is included for a more complete view of my journey.

I was walking along and I started pondering: why am I enjoying trail life? What makes it all that different from normal life? I quickly discounted the physical act of walking an outrageous distance over hard terrain. (Side note: Stinger, a hiker finishing his triple crown on the AT this year, informed me that on the PCT you climb 380,000 feet of elevation, on the CDT you climb 475,000 feet and on the AT you climb 515,000 feet and the AT is the shortest mileage.) While I enjoy the hiking aspect of the trail, that isn't what really sets it apart. Part of it is the sense of camaraderie that is shared by thru hikers but, again, I don't think that hits the heart of what I like so much. It all has to do with the community.

There are a few different aspects about the community that I feel make it so appealing. The big three that I tentatively hashed out are the following:
- one's past and future are almost completely inconsequential and are not discussed much except among close hiker companions,
- the everyday "bullshit" becomes nonexistent when basic things like shelter, food, and water become actual legitimate things to worry about, and
- everyday decisions are actually decisions without large negative consequences on the trail. Ex. Getting up at a certain time.

I am not completely sure if these completely cover it but I think it does form at minimum a good base to start from. None of the conditions are guaranteed for someone who comes out on the trail and I think that is an important distinction. If you want you can ignore these ideas but the community as a whole seems to have embraced them and by not doing so as well you may find yourself feeling more like an outsider than one of the group.

As I walked along I started trying to flesh out these ideas and come up with more detailed versions. This is perhaps where my ideas get more murky and less sensible but I include these thoughts for a more complete look at my thought process and to perhaps spark some other thoughts in others that will be relevant.

The first thought that one's past and future matter very little, if at all, is more important than I originally thought. There are few places (I use "places" to refer to interpersonal communities, not physical locations) where no one is concerned with what you do/did for work, how much money you make/made, what car you drive, who your connections are, or where you've lived. These are not necessarily all things about one's past but many can be considered such and they are most certainly status symbols. The concept of lack of concern with one's future is a bit simpler. There are few questions about what people will do when the trail is over or what they have waiting for them. This might just be due to the fact that I am only 25% done with the trail but, so far, that is my observation.

This insistence on remaining so focused on the present is wonderfully refreshing. It's as if when you step on the trail you become a blank slate waiting to be filled in. When you meet someone new on the trail a question about the past never goes farther back than "When did you start?" It's as if that is when everything that is important started. There are questions about where people lived before but mainly this question is asked by section hikers and day hikers. Actual thru hikers seem to care less and I don't think I have asked where someone is from yet. If someone has a thick accent, then a question might be asked, but it's hard not to wonder a bit in that case. It is amazing what taking life by what is happening right now can do for a complete removal of stress and that ties in with the third and probably most important point in my view.

The trail's "bullshit" removal powers are immense. Everyday I think about how much food I have with me versus the mileage to the next supply point. I consider how much water I am carrying and where water sources are. I also contemplate my options for sleeping arrangements, whether that be a shelter or a campsite. These are all concerns that do not enter into most people's daily lives. Sure, you might have to decide what to eat, or where to go get food but it isn't usually a carefully rationed and planned supply system. There isn't the thought that if I don't walk far enough today perhaps I won't be able to feed myself all the way to my supply point. For the most part on the AT there is virtually no fear of any sort of starving since there are so many towns and ways to get into towns. The worst thing that will happen is that you will have to make an unscheduled trip into a town for supplies. It's either that or stretch your food and be hungry, an option that is taken on a fairly regular basis.

When these are the concerns that I spend my brainpower on there is no time, energy, or desire to worry about all the little things that so many people spend time worrying about. People that know me from "normal" life will know that I spend virtually no time worrying about such things anyway and be wondering why this stands out on the trail. While it is true that I don't worry in normal life, everyone around me did. I never knew or noticed what this does. While I am incredibly laid back, other people's small pieces of stress were able to find their way into my brain. For the most part they were too small to be noticeable but they did add up to something. Out here those small pieces are gone, vanished in the wake of more primal concerns. These primal worries don't carry the same amount of stress, unless you let them and most hikers don't, and if they do have stress it isn't transferable stress. They are purely solitary concerns. If you are stressed about food, hikers around you aren't because they probably have enough. If you are stressed about a shelter the hikers around you won't absorb that stress because they have their own plans and timeframe that is completely different and not at all contingent on decisions you make. It is quite freeing to be without transferred stress from other people.

Lastly, there is a true sense of choice out on the trail. When absolutely nothing is required of you in any meaningful way, everything becomes a legitimate choice. Small things stand out as options that never did before. In normal life if you don't wake up on time or don't get up on time there is usually a distinct negative consequence. Out here I feel like I have more choice without negative consequence in those things than ever before. This includes my long stretches of unemployment. The negative consequences are less pronounced then but they still exist, lack of productive activity being the most prominent. If you haven't been unemployed or under-employed for an extended period of time you might not understand but I think if you have you will.

I got bored writing this and just stopped kind of mid thought. Typing this much on the my phone is a bit arduous. If the previous bit makes any sense then I feel lucky.