Through-Hikers

As we stand in the parking lot, I look up at the mountains. The Blue Ridge always fascinates me. The cool green mountains with a mask like blue haze stand with a firmness and permanence. I can almost hear one say, “This is my place and I am not going anywhere. Come and worship me”.

I strap my backpack on and take a few steps to check if the backpack is seated just above the hipbones. I walk over to Donna and help her with her backpack. John is checking the camera, keys, water bottle, lunch pack, coke and candies. Donna smiles at me and says, “Look at him. He is so tense as if he has a presentation ahead. Can’t relax even on a vacation. Everything has to be perfect.” Today I am glad that John is prepared as they are bringing my lunch.

I look around for the trail sign and Donna has already found it. She reads, “Malhar Trail. 100 feet this way”. We walk towards the trail looking for the white blaze on the trees, the sign of the trail on trees and rocks at regular interval to help you stay on the trail. Donna and I work together. She sits in the next cubicle. We both sit facing each other with a wall in between. At times when I stretch my feet against the wall, I could feel the pressure of her feet on the other side. “Hey Eric. Stop that. Are you expanding your cube?"

The Blue Ridge is dazzling in this fall season. I look at the trees and realize that we caught the fall season at its best. My botany is limited and I classify the trees as maple, not-maple and pine. Even to my unskilled eye, the vegetation in Blue Ridge changes a lot along the trails. You don’t realize that when you drive through the Blue Ridge parkway. Here when you walk past each and every plant, shrub and tree, you see the difference.

Donna is walking with me and John is behind. We stop to look at a huge red butterfly sitting on a yellow flower. John catches up, pulls out his camera, checks the light, adjusts the aperture, clicks and walks on. Donna looks at me and shrugs. “That’s it for him. A beautiful shot.” We take a few more minutes and enjoy the orange patterns on the butterfly before it flies away. We come to a small stream and John says, “This must be the Tye River”. We chose this trail today as we heard that Tye River runs along this trail and is gorgeous. The river, more like a stream here, is a steady and strong trickle and at some places swells to resemble a river. Donna picks up the leaves floating in the water. She sticks two bright orange colored leaves in my cap and laughs. John takes a picture and shouts, “Appalachian Indian”.

I tell them that the sound of water running over the rocks is very relaxing. We sit down, close our eyes and listen to the sound of the flowing water. After few minutes, John breaks the silence and describes a fountain that you can buy in the stores to get that effect. The water fountain is built in a bowl with pebbles and a motor buried in the pebbles that pump up the water over the pebbles. “My boss has one and says it is great”. Donna asks him, “How will you get the birds chirping?” John just shrugs and says, “Next version!”

I wonder if Donna and John are always like that. They knew each other from high school and at times they behave like high school kids talking back. May be all couples are like that. They seemed to be happy all the time but for occasional signals. I was working with Donna on a problem last week and one day noticed the timestamp on some programs. Donna had modified them at three in the morning. It was not even a high priority job and I asked Donna about it. She said that she was not getting sleep and logged on from home and worked a bit.

Donna and I work together a lot and most of the time in her cubicle. When you are in the next cube, you hear a lot. I hear her making appointments with doctors, more doctors, and specialists of some kind and heated discussions with John in low voice. You hear a lot over the walls but you hear nothing. You catch a lot of words and make up the rest.

It’s noon and we reach a shelter. The shelter is a wooden shed with the front fully open. There are few picnic tables outside where we sit and eat our lunch. A through-hiker stops by to rest. A through-hiker is one who hikes the entire Appalachian Trail all the way from Georgia to Maine. We ask him a lot of questions about his hike and how tough it is. He says, “It’s more tough internally than externally. When you begin, you enjoy the loneliness and contemplate a lot. After some time it gets to you. There are days you like yourself and there are days you hate yourself so much that you want to throw yourself off a cliff. You rediscover yourself”.

It’s been a week after the hike and Donna is seriously planning a through hike. She is reading up and contacting through-hikers for advice. She has already applied for leave of absence. She says that John is not going with her and wonders if I would be interested.