Becoming Odyssa - Jennifer Pharr Davis [51]
This time, Red Wolf hiked a stretch with us before turning around to shuttle the car once again.
I really enjoyed the time Red Wolf spent with us on the trail. When I hiked with Moot, everything felt heavy and serious, but when Red Wolf hiked with us, we sang eighties songs at the top of our lungs.
The next road we came to was Virginia Highway 16, directly past Partnership Shelter. On any other day, I would have forgone any predetermined plans and stayed there. It was the Cadillac of shelters: spacious, clean, with cold running water and a clean privy (a.k.a. outhouse). But Red Wolf had promised to meet us just ahead at Highway 16.
When we arrived at the road, Red Wolf stood there cheering and holding a brown rectangular box. He had stopped in a town and picked up a large supreme pizza for the three of us to split. Moot and I could not have been more thankful, or more ravenous. Together we devoured the pizza and celebrated the completion of twenty-six miles before 2:00 PM.
When we left Highway 16, Moot and I both knew we would be able to finish our forty-mile day. The nervous energy that had propelled us through the morning evolved into a relaxed confidence. And, since he was no longer preoccupied with the miles, Moot once again brought up theology.
“So, I don’t really agree with you,” he said.
“Agree with what?” I asked.
“I don’t agree with your idea of God, and I think I know why you believe what you do.”
“Okay.”
This should make the next twelve miles interesting, I thought.
“You grew up going to church, so you were indoctrinated. My theory is that the church tells you about God so that you don’t have to think for yourself or question reality. You said that you’re okay with not understanding things because you trust God. I think that’s a cop-out, an excuse for not digging deeper and looking for the truth. Because you believe in God, you’re a nice person, you do nice things for people, and you help those less fortunate. I think that makes you feel loved, not God.”
I suddenly realized that it became a lot easier to talk about my faith when I felt attacked. “Well, I don’t think I’m a nice person, and God knows that I’m not a nice person.”
“Yeah, that’s what they tell you to guilt you into being nice and giving more money to the Church.”
“Listen, Moot, you’re right. I decided to believe in God at a young age, but it was my choice and not the Church trying to brainwash me. Just because I was young doesn’t mean I couldn’t understand love, and I know my life has felt different since then.
“It’s kinda like . . . well, I guess it’s kinda like slackpacking. When I agreed to slackpack, I wasn’t exactly sure of everything it entailed, but it made sense, and I knew I wanted to do it. And as soon as I gave Red Wolf my pack, I knew I’d made the right decision. Right away, I felt lighter and more comfortable on the trail, and the hiking was easier.
“Being a Christian doesn’t mean that you never have doubts about God. There were times this morning when I wondered whether Red Wolf would meet us or just run off with our stuff. In the end, it’s not as much about you doing what you say you will as it is about God holding up His end of the deal. I know He will always be where He says He will be. I know that if I want Him to walk with me, He will, and I know that if I get lost, He will come looking for me.
“I don’t need to know what roads He took to find me, and when He gives me pizza, I don’t need to know where it came from. I just need to know that He will be there. And He is.”
“I think I need to know where he got the pizza,” Moot replied.
When we finished our twelve-mile stretch, we met Red Wolf at the last road of the day. He congratulated us, returned our packs, and wished us well.
Moot and I put our packs on and finished our forty-mile day by hiking two more miles to the Davis Path Shelter. I didn’t feel like sleeping inside the shelter, but I was too tired to set up my tent, so I spread out my mat and unrolled my sleeping bag under the night sky. And,