Happy Boots
We have the privilege of living in a resupply town for the PCT. Hiker season consists of thousands of hikers, from all over the world, walking through our little curve of this earth, for about 4 months of the year. Hiker season had started a couple weeks earlier.
This was probably the latest in which we “opened” our home for guests. I had not even decided to open this Friday but trail magic had other plans and I am so glad she did.
After dropping Tela (our youngest) off at school and heading across town to drop something off for Emma (our 12 year old), I turned down the road to head to the trail head. I had floated about 500 feet and realized I had no desire to do that drive right now. Without knowing why I u-turned in the middle of the road and decided to slowly head down the main street to see if any hikers needed a ride to the shops. Approaching the railroad park I saw three hikers headed in the direction of the shops. Pulling over I asked if they would like a ride.
After dropping Tela (our youngest) off at school and heading across town to drop something off for Emma (our 12 year old), I turned down the road to head to the trail head. I had floated about 500 feet and realized I had no desire to do that drive right now. Without knowing why I u-turned in the middle of the road and decided to slowly head down the main street to see if any hikers needed a ride to the shops. Approaching the railroad park I saw three hikers headed in the direction of the shops. Pulling over I asked if they would like a ride.
A familiar face leans into the window view and beams out with a grin and british accent. “I stayed with you last year!!! I was going to go to Wits’ End to get your number!! It’s me Tony!” He exclaimed. Hoping to stay with us again.
I remembered his face yet could not remember a Tony. We made arrangements to pick them up later and they would stay with us.
Once I got home I called Ian and he remembered him as Boots, grumpy, sad Boots, who sat on the edge of our couch because he had already waited three days for a box at the post office, which he knew was there.
That afternoon I picked up Tony (no longer going by Boots), Flo from Germany, and Everest from Tennessee. They stayed with us from Friday to Monday morning and I could not have asked for the universe to be kinder to me.
I remembered his face yet could not remember a Tony. We made arrangements to pick them up later and they would stay with us.
Once I got home I called Ian and he remembered him as Boots, grumpy, sad Boots, who sat on the edge of our couch because he had already waited three days for a box at the post office, which he knew was there.
That afternoon I picked up Tony (no longer going by Boots), Flo from Germany, and Everest from Tennessee. They stayed with us from Friday to Monday morning and I could not have asked for the universe to be kinder to me.
Grumpy Boots turned into Happy Boots this year, although he did not want that to be his trail name. He will probably come back and stay with us again as he flip flops around the trail.
The Boots fit and I am grateful.
Flo was a sweet hearted boy from Germany who applied and pursued aligning himself with older and wiser people and learning all that he could. He has a good, open soul and I am so excited for all the lessons he learns on his way.
Everest was a hard seasoned traveler and vegan. She is honoring the quest of life and challenge within her and she will continually astound herself. It was a treat to meet her and be a part of her journey.
And so I guess we are open.
Flo was a sweet hearted boy from Germany who applied and pursued aligning himself with older and wiser people and learning all that he could. He has a good, open soul and I am so excited for all the lessons he learns on his way.
Everest was a hard seasoned traveler and vegan. She is honoring the quest of life and challenge within her and she will continually astound herself. It was a treat to meet her and be a part of her journey.
And so I guess we are open.
Hikers are here and my church bells are ringing. It is time to attend or else I might miss out on the boots fitting, the three Israelis from Kibbutz, one of which I remember going to. Cougar from Minnesota who will be turning 50 this year. Without experience or a real reason why, she is hiking the PCT and doing it. Yelling at her husband in the desert because she is “NOT COMING HOME!” She wants 6 months of her life to do this!!!
She does not want a new life, or husband or home, she just wants to do this, RIGHT NOW.
And she is.
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