issue #10 A Very, Very Long Walk

Finding a wellspring of words in the wilderness

I'm currently sitting in a small side room of my family's cabin in Front Royal, Virginia. The weather can't decide what it wants to do. Just a few minutes ago, the sun was shining, and I watched birds splash in the little stone bath outside my window. Now, fog is creeping up the mountain, enveloping the trees and their fresh spring growth, and a few cold raindrops just smacked my window.

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The view outside my window while writing this post. I love the the fog that comes and goes on this mountaintop.

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The cabin is just a mile off the Appalachian Trail (the subject of a previous post, and likely more to come), and my daily walks through the woods around the house have been bringing back memories and reflections of my time backpacking on that gorgeous wilderness path. For readers who don't know, in 2018 I set out to thru-hike the A.T. (thru-hike is a fancy term for hiking the entire trail). While I didn't actually complete the entire trail—for reasons I'll elaborate on in future posts—I ended up walking 1,300 miles, from Georgia to New Jersey, over the course of 95 days.

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That experience profoundly shaped me in ways too numerous to count, though I'll make an effort to do so on this blog over time. If you’d like to see a slightly expanded version of this post, I have more photos and poems on my website. But today, I want to share a particular creative process that was born out of the long miles on the trail and the solitary nights in camp. During the journey, I discovered contemplative poetry as a way to both examine my internal landscape and observe the beautiful wilderness around me.

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I've been a fan of Asian poetry (and in particular, Zen poetry - here’s a book recommendation) for years and used to ground my photographic work in the mood and subtle language of famous poets such as Basho and Ryokan, just to name a few. During my time on the A.T., I experienced the spirit of that writing style firsthand and found that words came to me naturally and unexpectedly as I spent months traversing mountains and valleys, sleeping outside, and integrating with the land.

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I wanted to share a few of those poems and accompanying photographs as the subject of this post. I have a book in the works from which these were selected, and I'll share more about that in the future. Perhaps these simple, meditative words will inspire you to seek a few quiet, reflective moments of your own… maybe even outdoors. Or, perhaps just as rewardingly, in the vast wilderness of your own mind.

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A beautiful and mysterious section of the Appalachian Trail in North Carolina. My long walk (as I like to call it) took me from the mountains of Georgia all the way up to New Jersey.

“Today my mind

Wandering endlessly

Much farther than

The length of the path”

Spring flowers along the Blue Ridge Parkway in Virginia. I started this adventure in the winter and hiked through a month of snowy, icy conditions. It’s hard to describe the feeling of watching the seasons change and seeing the forest begin to bloom.

“Pink petals

On the path

Even the rhododendron

Flowers

Must fall”

No matter how difficult the conditions were, I always took the extra time to have coffee in camp before starting the days walk. My poems would often come to me during the morning hours.

“In my morning coffee

I see the rain and streams

With every sip

When the ripples calm

I see the trees”

Glorious rhododendron blooming in the Virginia mountains.

“Why

Here on the sunniest

Of days when

Mountain laurel blooms pink

And white

Do storm clouds

Brew in my mind”

I set my phone against a tree to try and capture a self portrait during foggy weather.

“Eighty seven days

Following this path

Though the woods

The bandages on my feet

Black now

Everything feeling a bit

Frayed”

I loved the symbolism of the flowers growing in the worn out hiking boots. Every day on the trail was an opportunity for personal growth and realization.

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I hope you enjoyed this issue of I Think I’m Tripping! I’d love to know your thoughts on it - did you enjoy the poetry, and would you like to see more? It would mean the world to me if you would consider subscribing to this newsletter. I’m sure my time here in the Virginia mountains will stir up more memories to share, and I’m excited to see what comes up. Until then, take care friends. ~ Matthew