Updated: Oct 13
I love being on the Appalachian Trail early in the morning. The leaves are still wet. The breeze might be a little chilly. There is solitude, and pleasant noises. Birds yelling for attention, maybe some chipmunks gathering food, and the occasional deer. Being out on the trail in the morning increases the chance to see wildlife.
But first I have to get out of my sleeping bag.
I can usually tell it is time by the shade of my tent walls. The sun is still below the horizon, but brightness has begun to creep its way through the forest
My coffee is hanging up high from the limb of a tree inside a food bag. I don’t want any bears, or other critters, stealing it while I sleep. Talk about a tragedy!
There is a sound when propane is lit under a camping stove. On the trail, this is the sound of morning. It is not quite a hiss. Somewhere between a hiss and a hum. All I need is 12 ounces of water to boil. At altitude this usually does not take long. But it seems long. I have not had my coffee yet. As I warm my hands next to the flame, I look to the ever brighter sky in the background.
Once my cup is full of the pleasant brown liquid it is time to pause. Enjoy the moment. Some of the forest birds have probably started up. A nearby hiker, still in his or her tent, might be stirring. I’ll hear an occasional owl in the distance. I might spend some time looking at my trail map, deciding where to stop for lunch. When I finish my coffee things will begin moving fast. So this is my pause time. It is an amazing moment.
And then things do move fast. Deflate my mattress. Bathroom break, which usually means digging a hole. Quick breakfast snack, or maybe boil more water for some oatmeal. Pack up my tent. Everything is placed snug into my backpack. One more look at my trail map. Time to grab my hiking poles.
I’m not quite ready for my first steps on the trail. I need to check my campsite for anything I could have left behind. Did I pack all of my tent stakes? Did I leave a small paper wrapper from one of my meals?
Now I step out.
I can hear the scrunching of my steps. Branches swaying as I brush by. Sometimes there is mist descending from a mountain slope, other times it is already clear blue, though barely visible through the treetops. It is always solitary and refreshing.
And it is always my time.