TRAIL LIFE

Because we had an easy day today, I let everybody sleep in. Eventually, about 9:00, I had to wake them all up, or I think they might have slipped to the end of the day. I’d pulled my kit together earlier, so while they got packed, I was able to find some breakfast sandwiches at a nearby coffee shop. We absolutely need to feed the teenagers frequently and in large quantities, or it could turn into some real Alfred Packer-type behavior out on the rural parts of the trail.

Our route took us from Meyersdale 8 Miles up and over what’s called the East Coast Continental Divide. It separates water flowing to the Atlantic from that flowing to the Gulf of Mexico, which obviously is also part of the Atlantic. However, being fair, and in an era where everyone gets an award, the East Coast was awarded a quasi-continental divide. Its 2,392-foot elevation did not impress Ridge or Caleb, as they noted their Hometown being almost three times that elevation.

It wasn’t the elevation that was spectacular; it was the views as we came down the other side. And for the next 20 mi or so, it just got prettier on our way to Cumberland and the end of the first leg of our journey. With little to do in terms of biking effort, I was able to think about being on the trail and what it means to me.

There is very little I remember from my middle school years. That alone should serve as a lesson to anyone considering sending their children to middle school. In any case, I do remember Mrs. Anderson and the geography lessons she gave me. They consisted of maps of the world and countries. We would color the maps and memorize states, countries, and capital cities. I think I loved maps before that, but that experience gave me a foundation to continue that love. Thank you, Mrs. Anderson. By the way, my sisters told me to avoid taking any class from her because she was so mean.

The best part about trails is how they cut across maps. I find it exciting to look at maps with trails while planning trips across those maps by trail. Part of it is the logistics; I enjoy planning and trying to make an event happen. But I’ve realized that those trails, in large part, are why I love biking. I love how a trail is a connection that goes far beyond geography. Trails have so much to offer beyond just a place to pedal.

I’ve been on many trails across the United States and Canada. Some of them I didn’t see a soul for hours, while others were endlessly busy. There’s been rural, urban, and everything in between. One thing I’ve noticed about all these trails is that people are more likely to engage. Part of it is probably the vulnerability of being without a car or a house around you, so you feel like you have to say something. But I also notice people are more willing to help or at least offer help. When you stop on the side of the trail because of a flat tire or some other issue, people are almost always asking if you need help. That kind of behavior was so common on The Great Divide that we even had a name for it: Trail Angels. You can’t get that from a car speeding by at 75 mph.

The trail we’ve been fortunate enough to ride this past week has been incredible. Not a single foot of it wasn’t beautiful. The best part is, it didn’t cost us a penny to enjoy that endless beauty. There was some pain and effort, but it was nothing bothersome. That’s another reason I love Trail life: its simplicity. We barely have more than a change of clothes, yet we feel content and happy as we roll along. If we find food, even at a gas station, it’s wonderful because we’re grateful and not comparing it to some fancy restaurant. I’m so glad I can expose my grandkids to Trail Life so they understand the joy of simplicity and how to apply it throughout their lives. Although we can’t always be on the trail, it’s a happier way to live: caring about others and keeping things simple.