3. Magic Mama (Horse Gap to Lance Creek GA)

Waves of rain rode on abrupt squalls. It was quiet, then a furious gust pounded the tent fabric into my legs, and rain whipped down. Then quiet, and repeat. By morning, the clouds were past.

Magic Mama

People are incredible and amazing and generous! The same woman who gave me oranges yesterday – her name: Magic Mama – showed up in the morning right where I camped with more oranges and drinks. My new and instant friends Hannah, Sam, and Max were all there, as well as Magic Mama’s husband Sean (who is slackpacking – hiking but having most gear shuttled point to point). Magic Mama gave me a Coca-Cola, and I’ll tell you what: that stuff is the nectar of the gods. Sugar and caffeine. Didn’t feel the next climb a bit.

Then, Magic Mama surprised Hannah, Sam, and I at the next gap with gnocchi soup. Little known fact: potato in any form is the perfect exercise fuel. Who needs bars? (I brought precisely zero bars). it’s well known that any food, even ordinarily suspect ones (tuna & honey cashews? Rice and trail mix burrito?) taste incredible in the backcountry. But a home-cooked meal heated up on a breezy morning from a generous soul from Kentucky named Magic Mama? No words can describe it.

Education and creativity

I hiked the whole day with Hannah and Sam, two wonderful people from North Carolina about my age. Sam had been a rafting guide on a number of western North Carolina rivers and wilderness therapy leader. Hannah had been an outdoor educator. I say this because their mindfulness about the outdoors and the psychology of being outside was immediately evident. Hannah and I had a great conversation about childhood development. Done right, education concerns itself not just with enhancing knowledge or even problem-solving but with instilling virtues, modeling ethical behavior, and learning how your actions affect other people. With these skills, one can live a good life no matter what field they end up in. The three of us also had a great discussion on creativity. Sam talked about the barriers to creative actions like art, or writing. Hiking certainly helps me overcome these barriers. I love the sensory experience, the linkage of the left brain and right brain through the alternating action of walking, the human interactions that fill the day, the mental separation from critique. This is why writing is a top priority for me on this trail. 

We also talked about how in normal life, journaling is often about what you do. On the trail, what you do is of less interest, so it’s quite natural to journal about what you feel and experience with your senses. 

Runaway trolleys

I also led a discussion on ethics, focusing on the trolley problem. We talked about various ethical frameworks as presented in Michael Schur’s “How to be Perfect,” a book I will be reviewing in the book reviews section before too long.

The trolley problem for those interested is classically presented as this: you are operating a trolley and going down a hill when the brakes fail. There are five people at the bottom of the hill who will be smooshed by the trolley unless you flip a switch that would redirect the trolley onto a different track, where only one person would be smooshed. The question is: do you flip the switch? Though there’s obviously no right answer, some (not all) people reason that, since one is fewer than five, it would be better to flip the switch. But what if the scenario were slightly different? What if, instead of flipping a switch, you could push someone onto the track, and they would slow the trolley enough to prevent smooshing the five people? Would you push the one person to save the five? That feels a lot more brutal, which raises the question: what make us feel different about this scenario versus the classic? Mathematically, it’s still one versus five. There are a lot more variations to this problem, and it presents a wonderful introduction to ethical frameworks like consequentialism and deontology. More on this in the upcoming book review.

Today was full of blessings. The blessings of friendship, of feeling great physically after day 3, of walking together in the still forest, and of Magic Mama’s generosity. In the evening, a perfect stillness fell. The sunlight slanted across our heads and illuminated in gold the hill adjacent to us. Through the trees, you could see the hills beyond in various shades of royal purple, some a bit more green and coppery, those farther a darker, brooding purple. Hannah, Sam, and I walked in silence awhile, and we were the only things moving in our frame of reference.