Becoming Odyssa - Jennifer Pharr Davis [70]
I had to walk very gingerly down the trail to make sure I didn’t step on them. Despite being almost neon orange, they blended in amazingly well with the remaining fall leaves that were decomposing on the ground.
While I was looking down at the trail for the little lizards, I heard a rustling noise ahead.
A bear? No, not a bear.
It looked like a turkey—but it wasn’t a turkey.
A peacock! It was a female peacock with funny antennae sticking up out of her head! She ran several yards down the trail and then stopped to look back. I followed, and when I was within a few feet, she once again sprinted down the trail. She probably stayed on the trail for a quarter mile, running ahead and then waiting for me to catch up before running a little farther. Finally she veered off the trail and ran through the woods until I couldn’t see her anymore.
I laughed at the absurdity of seeing a peacock in the woods. I’m sure peacock sightings on the Appalachian Trail weren’t very common— probably far less common than seeing a bear. I remembered from my classical studies that peacocks were considered the bird of Hera, queen of the gods. Maybe this bird was a good omen? Maybe good things were about to happen!
I smiled as I thought about the many pleasant surprises I’d had recently. I loved central Virginia. I loved the trail. Spring was making herself more known each day, and I felt full of love, laughter, and life. Even by myself, even in the middle of the woods.
12
GENEROSITY
ROCKFISH GAP, VA, TO US 522
(FRONT ROYAL), VA—107 MILES
Shenandoah National Park is a favorite section for many thru-hikers. There is enough wilderness in the park to satisfy the longings of any outdoor enthusiast, but there are enough amenities to keep a hiker clean, fed, and happy throughout the hundred-mile stretch. It is a place where beauty and convenience meet, and where gentle climbs and gradual descents lift your spirits. It is a place that makes you feel like maybe thru-hiking isn’t so difficult after all.
On my first day in Shenandoah National Park, I came across Nightwalker and Mooch. I had met them just outside Roanoke at apple orchard shelter. They were friends from Connecticut who had been Boy Scouts growing up, and now that they were out of college, they were on the AT together.
I had taken to them immediately because Nightwalker had shared his dried fruit with me at the shelter—and sharing food on the trail is a big deal. I also remembered them fondly because Mooch’s thick sarcasm kept me entertained and laughing well into the night, long past when I usually fall asleep.
The only strike against them came when the rain started blowing inside the shelter and onto the bottom half of our sleeping bags. Night-walker convinced us to put trash bags around the ends of our sleeping bags to keep them dry. It seemed like a great idea. But when we woke up in the morning, our sleeping bags were dry up top and soaking wet underneath the trash bags. Both boys marveled at the outcome like it was a science project that revealed something new and amazing about the laws of condensation. All I knew was that my sleeping bag was wet and heavy.
Now that we were in the Shenandoahs together, and there wasn’t any chance of rain, I was happy to see them.
“Odyssa!” they called as they hiked toward me. (Toward me? That was weird.)
Nightwalker was the proverbial tall, dark, and handsome type. By this point on the trail, he had a thick black beard that made him look like a rugged cowboy or a rider for the Pony Express. Mooch was even taller than Nightwalker, gangly and topped with a huge smile and out-of-control curly hair. He reminded me of a good-looking Gumby with a ’fro.
“I’m sorry again about your sleeping bag,” were the first words out