I will be hiking a new trail soon. In less than two weeks, I plan to step out onto the Flint Hills Trail from Osawatomie to Herrington, Kansas. This 117-mile stretch extends through five counties and a dozen or so communities. As its name suggests, the trail follows along the Flint Hills of Kansas. It’s one of the last remaining tall grass prairies in the world. I look forward to sharing those experiences. While I am hiking, I will share a few lessons that I’ve learned from other trails. Today I will begin with a story from the Appalachian Trail. This is a story from my experience in northern Georgia around a place called Preacher’s Rock. Here I began to really learn that the trail is a great teacher!
Sometimes the trail reveals more than just more trail. There are places where the trail seems to hide a special treat for the adventurer and then reveal a gift that it has been holding for the right time. It was my third day of hiking north on the Appalachian Trail. Starting the day from Gooch Mountain Shelter, the plan was to cover eight miles to the next shelter at Lance Creek. I climbed over Ramrock Mountain, through Woody Gap, and a series of ups and downs as I approached Big Cedar Ledges. Views of streams, mountains, and valleys invited rest breaks all along the way. They were welcomed distractions.
By late afternoon, I came to a section of the trail that looked as if a rockslide was blocking the path. The mountain wall on the left and the sheer drop on the right prevented me from going around the pile of boulders. Then I saw a blaze painted on the front of one of the huge square chunks of granite. This was just part of the trail and I had to scramble up and over to continue on my way. Laughing at myself, I stored my trekking poles with the cords on my backpack and began finding hand holds and footsteps in the rocks. Like a mountain goat, I climbed up about ten feet and over about thirty feet of stone path. The other side was not what I expected. I had anticipated a return to the worn dirt path, bordered by tall pine trees. The trail had something different to offer. She gave one of her special gifts, it was Preacher’s Rock.
Preacher’s Rock is a large flat rock that lays on the eastern side of the trail, near the top of Big Cedar Ledge. The rock is probably thirty feet by twenty feet and offers a flat surface to lay on and rest. The sun had warmed the rock and it felt wonderful on this cool day with the wind blowing across the trail. The view was unobstructed at this height. The sky was clear and I could look far out over the neighboring mountains, valleys, streams, lakes, and farms that were scattered across the way. What a present. The trail had revealed the unexpected and I was grateful. She wasn’t finished giving gifts to me that day.
As I lay on this perch, a park ranger walked by and admired the view with me. She then asked where I planned to stop for the day. I noticed the grimace on her face when I said “Lance Creek.” She had just passed that way and said that I would fill the last available spot there. Now I grimaced and asked for suggested alternatives. She told me of a small stealth site just up the trail where one or two tents could be set up. After she continued southbound, I reluctantly got up, donned my pack, and started north, praying that no one else discovered the secret spot where I hoped to spend the night. Soon, I located the marker the ranger had described, stepped through a line of brushes and into an open area that was an amazing site. Making a fire ring with rocks and gathering sticks from around the area, I pitched my tent and made a fire to relax and reflect on the day’s experiences. The trail had revealed itself, I was grateful for her gifts, now it was time to rest. Regardless of the trail, terrain, or location, many of the lessons taught are the same. Some paths offer a different angle or perspective. Some emphasize one lesson or maybe a specific point of a specific lesson. Every journey teaches and blesses. Creation is so vast and there is great wisdom embedded in her. These adventures have renewed my soul. They called and I was fortunate to answer. They call still and I hope to step onto trails less traveled so that I may experience more. I am now sixty-five years old. My health is good, though I can feel the effects diabetes in the numbness of my feet. Neurotrophy is a scary experience. I fear the day may come where hiking may not be possible for me. So, until then I want to see what I have yet to see. I want to hike where I have yet to hike. There are more lessons to learn, and the trails are great teachers.