Becoming Odyssa - Jennifer Pharr Davis [126]
The burning was the worst at my hips where my pack and clothes rubbed. I tried not buckling my waist belt, but the added strain killed my shoulders. Every piece of clothing or plant that grazed my leg felt as if it were cutting through my skin. All of a sudden, I completely empathized with Nightwalker’s half-naked hiking strategy.
I tried to wipe away my welling tears, but I ended up rubbing sweat and DEET into my eyes. Now it burned to open them, and I couldn’t see the trail. I was a mess, and the only thing that kept me going was the thought of White House Landing. I knew that if I could make it through the afternoon, that evening I could take a side trail to a rural resort known as White House Landing where I would be able to shower and soothe my fiery skin.
Thinking positive thoughts of friends, food, and running water, I managed to disassociate from the excruciating pain in my lower body long enough to reach the lake and small wooden platform that served as the pickup point for the resort. At the dock, Nightwalker and I discovered posted directions that instructed us to blow on the dock’s air horn just once. (A bold warning beneath stated that blowing the horn a second time would forfeit the hiker’s right to any help from the other side.)
I covered my ears, Nightwalker blew the horn, and together we sat and waited for any sign of life from the opposite shore. We waited fifteen minutes and nothing happened. After thirty minutes, I decided that the lodge hadn’t heard the noise and begged Nightwalker to try the horn again. He reminded me that one blow too many would mean no help at all, and suggested we wait a full hour before trying again. Miserable, I spent the next five minutes bathing myself in every last ounce of a rancid bug-repellant that I had.
Finally, after forty minutes, we saw someone descend from the far landing and crank up a motorboat. Considering the quantity and tenacity of the bugs, our chauffeur was lucky to find anything left of us when he finally pulled up to the dock.
For me, the climb up Katahdin started at White House Landing. As the motorboat sped toward the distant dock, the wind blew away the bugs and cooled my rash. But, more significantly, it also blew away the hardships and challenges of the past four months. Before now, I could see the end, but this is where I started to experience it.
When I stepped out of the boat, Mooch was waiting on the dock to give me a hug. I didn’t care that he had left us, I was just glad we were back together again. He helped Nightwalker and me with our packs and walked with us to the lodge where Snowstepper and Texas Ranger were eating dinner. Nightwalker and I ordered our meals, and then the five of us, five thru-hikers who had started in Georgia and walked to Maine, sat and laughed together.
After dinner, I retreated to the shower house. After a long, hot rinse, I covered myself with a soothing balm that the owner of White House Landing had given me to treat my rash. As soon as I put on the clear, silky ointment, I could see the hives start to shrink and the red dots disappear.
As I approached the bunkhouse, I could hear the four boys laughing before I entered the wooden cabin. When I walked in the door, I saw them sitting in a circle, talking about the trail and laughing at the memories, both good and bad. Mostly, they laughed at mishaps and failures, mistakes and misconceptions; what had made them miserable and angry a few weeks ago now seemed very funny. They could look back and laugh because they had overcome the pain and the frustration. They had grown, they were stronger and wiser, and they had almost completed what they set out to accomplish.
I didn’t join in their conversation. I just lay in my bed and listened to the guys carry on late into the night. This was the first time in weeks that I didn’t fall asleep as soon as I crawled in my sleeping bag. I was still tired, but it was a peaceful exhaustion, and I wanted to keep my eyes open for as long as I could. Even the air in the room felt different. It was as if I could breathe