Top of the Trail to Ya

Yesterday I chose to begin at the trail's start in Travelers Rest, expecting to go another half mile before turning around. I carefully measured the distance in the car before beginning so I would remember the landmark at the turnaround point. But, TR is prepared for walkers like me. Each street crossing is marked with a sign describing the landmarks in the distance - none of them tell you how far back it is to the parking lot.

It's much more intriguing to consider how far you can go than to focus on how far you have to go back. And, so, I kept going. It took me longer to walk past TR's new high school than it took me to walk a mile to school as a teenager. Other walkers passed me on their way out of the parking lot and passed me again on their return trips. I told them "Good morning" once more, as though I hadn't said it to them just a short while before, and kept walking.

Why didn't I bring a hat with a broad brim? The trip out was all about the scenery to the sides of me, thanks to the sun that fell fully on my face. I kept walking, past a cemetery I never knew was there, marveled at the different kinds of flags and banners that hang along the main street of a small town, memorized every house for sale on every side street.

It took me just short of a mile to reach a bench where I could sit down. But first I walked past it, all the way to the corner that marked a full mile from the parking lot, creating a new mental signpost of my own. I thought I would need to rest at least thirty minutes and was surprised when I was ready to go again after ten.

The return trip was slightly downhill and I knew I was making better time. Every now and then I would catch a glimpse of my favorite view in the area - the magnificent Blue Wall of mountains that wraps around the western end of our part of the state. I never knew where to expect it next - between a gap in the trees, over the top of a low building, ahead or to the side of me?

Just as my car appeared in the distance and a grin spread itself across my face, the Trail God decided it would be good for me to bring it home in a full headwind. I leaned into the wind like a stick figure in a cartoon and ignored the plastic flowers blowing off the graves in the cemetery. One slow motion replay of step by step, opposed by tumbling fake blossoms in fast forward.

I kept walking.