The Long Trail
Vermont
August 1996
My backpacking buddy, Alecia, and I are hanging out at the intersection of Kelley Stand Road and the Trail, where we parked our car. This road has some history. In 1840, the great orator and senator Daniel Webster delivered the Kelley Stand Speech in this very spot. Fifteen thousand and two citizens gathered to hear this famous speech, one of the largest crowds in Vermont history. Funny though, that the only text of the speech that anyone knows for sure is the opening line: “Fellow citizens, we meet today among the clouds.” It is believed he also said, “When I see so many gathered here today from the banks of the Hudson even to the Connecticut, I know there is something wrong in the affairs of the Government,” but no one knows for sure if he said that. Either way, not much has changed on that account.
The hiking trail at this junction has some history as well. It is the combination Appalachian Trail/Long Trail and this spot is very near where Benton MacKaye first conceived of the long distance trail that became the A T.
The Appalachian Trail stretches from Georgia to Maine while the Long Trail reaches from Massachusetts to Canada. The two trails share a footpath for 100 miles in Vermont before going their own ways.
So, as I say, Alecia and I are just hanging around the car. Ten minutes ago we emerged from the forest, ending our 50-mile wilderness trek from Clarendon Gap down to Kelley Stand Road on the AT/LT, six splendid days in the woods of Vermont’s Green Mountains.
We stand unencumbered, having doffed our backpacks. Feels liberating not to be strapped in to an additional third of our body weight.
A thin man emerges from the woods and approaches us. “Hey!”
“Hey! Walk a distance, didja?” Easy question to ask this guy who is carrying a backpack and, well, looks like he’s been in the woods for a while.
“Yep. Walked here from Georgia. Been on the trail for some months. Don’t remember exactly how long. My beard is my calendar. I shaved the day I stepped on the trail and then tossed the razor in the trash.”
“Um… You don’t have a beard.”
“Oh, uh, yeah. I spent a little time in the hospital a few days back and I shaved there.” He perked up. “Mustache is my calendar!”
He tells us his story. He started on the trail in April at Springer Mountain, Georgia, and is looking forward to seeing the Green Mountains of Vermont, which he just entered and the White Mountains of New Hampshire, where he will soon be. Calls himself “Southern Man.” To hear the sound and character of his voice, no one wonders why.
He tells us about his hospital visit, where he took care of a kidney infection. Now, obviously, he’s back on the trail.
He tells us his mother died last year of neuropathy and this little six-month walk of his is a consciousness-raiser and a fund raiser for those afflicted with neuropathy. (My consciousness has been raised. While neuropathy is unlikely fatal, it can cause complications that can shorten your life.)
Alecia and I just finished our hike and we intend to travel next by automobile. We offer him an apple, a banana and a big ole chocolate bar. He needs it more than we do.
Our society teaches us to be polite, that at times it is proper to decline certain invitations. When offered something, we learn to humbly refuse. (Who knows why!) For example…
“Would you like this big slice of apple pie?”
“No, thanks. I couldn’t.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I appreciate the offer. Thank you very much.”
But if you really want it, you lower your eyes and modestly, even sheepishly, say, “Yes, I would like to have that pie. Thank you.”
Today we are here in the non-linear world where things work entirely differently. When you’ve been on the trail for months and someone offers you some fresh food, the bullshit etiquette goes right out the window. To wit…
“Would you like this apple, this banana and a big ole chocolate bar?”
“Hell yes!”
And maybe add to that enthusiastic response, “What else you got? I’ll eat anything.”
Bon appétit, Southern Man.