As I’ve aged I’ve gotten better at accepting what comes my way. Sometimes it is easy. Other times it is much more difficult. The Florida Trail has presented me with an opportunity to take this to a new level.

I took the swamp in stride, learning not to rush it. When the water got shallower I sometimes tried to pick up my pace. That is when I went tripping and flying forward taking a few running steps and hoping not to fall in the water. When I stopped trying to speed up, accepting the slower pace, I did just fine. In fact I made much better time than what the trail app predicted.

After the swamp it was a joy to see an easy-up tent set up in a parking area. Four Florida trail angels were offering trail magic in the form of fresh fruit, cookies, cakes, chips and cold drinks. Besides food these angels had buckets of clean water for us to wash the sand out of our shoes. I gratefully accepted their generosity before moving on to camp.

After reaching the Big Cypress New Testament Baptist Church, which truly puts its faith into action, I caught up on some writing, took a shower did laundry and calorie loading from food that had been left at the church by the people who organized the kickoff event.

The following day I walked a 19 mile day. I didn’t WANT to walk 19 miles but it was where the nearest allowed campsite was located. I got an early start in the morning darkness. My headlight caught the glimpse of two bright eyes staring at me. As those eyes grew closer, I made out the shape of a big black bear on the trail. We had a bit of a standoff before I made some noise and the bear went running off.

It was close to 80° and there was no shade so I used my umbrella as I walked. I ttook a number of stops knowing that all the others that I have been hiking with would be long gone by days end as they were hiking, almost twice as fast as I was. Rather than focusing on that loss, I  worked to enjoy the somewhat monotonous, straight, flat walk along canals. A highlight of the day was interacting with a farmer who was trying to catch an errant escaped cow that was walking along the canal. I enjoyed the bird life along the walk and marvaled when I saw over 100 alligators in a very short quarter mile of trail. I watched in fascination as one of the larger alligators left up out of the water and grabbed a bird out of a tree. In general, the alligators don’t seem like something for humans to fear but this incident reminded me not to dangle my hands or feet above the canals!

I was weary and ready to stop when I finally reached camp that evening. Even though almost everyone else had moved on I  felt a sense of accomplishment at having made the 19 miles before sunset which in Florida this time of year is around 6 PM. After eating, I dove into my tent to get away from the mosquitoes and fell into a well earned sleep.

When I started out the next morning I was surprised and dismayed to discover the top of my left foot was hurting. This is the foot that had sustained three stress fractures on the PNT just 5 months prior. I didn’t think the pain was where the breaks had been, but I was concerned.

I walked all of that day in pain, trying different arrangements of the insoles in my boots to no avail. I was thrilled to be able to slack pack four miles when the Umbrella Lady and Lenard offered to drive my pack up the road and leave it in their car. Slack packing is a hiker term meaning hiking without one’s pack. I had crossed paths with the Umbrella Lady and Lenard when we all thru hiked the Appalachian Trail in 1982 and was thrilled to run into them again! They were doing small sections of the Florida Trail packless, shuttling themselves with two cars. Trip, whom I had started with and who was also having foot issues, was hiking with me and we both gratefully slack packed four miles along the windy dike.

We were both ready to stop when we arrived at a water cache along a road. Trail angels place these caches so hikers don’t have to drink out of the alligator infested canals which are quite polluted by agricultural runoff.

I made arrangements to get a ride into Clewiston with trail angel Kate. She treated me to a big breakfast and plied me with goodies for the trail. I hoped that leaving my pack in town and slack packing those miles would give my foot the rest it needed.

While it helped some, unfortunately, it wasn’t enough. My foot pain flared up again as I slowly made my way the seven miles from Clewiston to Uncle Joe’s Motel and Campground. I knew that Trip was planning on arriving there that evening and after being fed a huge plate of lasagne at uncle Joe’s bar, I took a nap. The maintanence man gave me a blanket and Jersey, the woman who was working there, gave me a pillow as I curled up on the cusioned bench seat at a table in the store/bar! I slept for close to two hours.

Soon after I awoke Trip arrived and we were both fed meatball sandwiches. I accepted taking a nearo (a hiker term for a short hiking day) and enjoyed the family atmosphere at this rural, local community established in the 1940’s. Trip and I set up tents, chatted with some locals and guests, learning the bascis of sugarcane production which is huge in this part of Florida. I enjoyed some just picked corn on the cob delivered in a case and given out for free by a local man. It was hard for me to wrap my head around fresh picked corn in January. Then we were treated to a delicious dinner of taco soup bought over by one of the local women who stay here. It seems the residents of this RV park take turns cooking and bringing food to the bar for all to share.

I went to bed full and satisfied, expecting to get an early start the next day. But when my foot was still quite painful in the morning I knew I had to listen to it. I held back tears as I bid Trip goodbye and watched him hike off.

I am trying to use this as an opportunity to lean yet further into whatever happens, taking care of myself and accepting the reality that is. I have a foot that hurts. I don’t enjoy walking whe every step hurts. Plus I know that limping especially while carrying a full backpack can cause more damage to my body. The only solution is to stop walking for a while and see what happens.

I can feel myself wanting to go down the hole of depression, feeling sorry for myself, fearing an early end to this hike. But instead, I am trying to lean into what is, staying in the present, wondering what new experiences and hikers will come my way as a result of sitting still for a day or two while I give my foot a chance to heal.

I suspect a tendon strain and am aware it may take longer for my foot to improve, especially at my age. But I don’t want to jump ahead, so for now I am working on taking what comes, nurturing and listening to my body, which was never a possibility when I was young and being abused. Then I had to dissociate from my physical body and ignore the pain. So as difficult as taking a zero day on trail is for me, I am trying to welcome this opportunity to honor my bodily needs even when my spirit wants to be hiking on.

Taking what comes is not easy, but it is better than falling into self pity and despair. It is giving me an opportunity to cultivate curiosity at what this change of plans will bring next. By choosing to accept what is, I hope to be better prepared to accept what comes next. And if I’ve learned anything over these last years of adventuring it is the certainty that life will throw some difficult things in my path, but it will come with the blessed reward of angels to lighten the load.

#thru hike #thruhiker #nationalscenictrails #floridatrail #appalachiantrail #pnt #pacificnorthwesttrail #ptsd #did #kindness