This thought is prompted by the "Open Letter to a very nice woman" thread on Trip Reports.
It got me to thinking about the many times I've received acts of kindness on the trail, as God seems to have sent along people at just the time I need them, for an encouraging word or real assistance. In the hurry of the moment I may not have expressed my gratitude enough, and wish I could write them all an "open letter" here.
Three moments of kindness come to mind from my early years of hiking. I was 15 and alone in the Whites, just starting to get to know them. I had become dehydrated crossing from Liberty to Lafayette on a torrid day, and when I finally got some water at Greenleaf I embarrassingly got sick right outside the hut. The hutmaster took me in, stretched me out on a bunk and offered to run down the trail to tell my waiting ride what had happened. Or, he said, just rest and I bet you can get down ok. His care and kind confidence in me got me on my way in time to get down before dark.
Then there was that nice older gentleman, Frank, who saw me hanging around Pinkham by myself, and invited me to hike up Lafayette with him. On top I told him I had just heard about a new trail, and we got to be among the first to descend Falling Waters, forest duff on most of the upper trail.
Then a few days later a couple of college boys asked this young kid, "Do you want to come up Huntington with us?" "Boy, would I!" They showed me how to move on rock.
I'd like to think these folks could read this and know that I still think of the ways they --and so many others over the years--showed me kindness in the mountains, something I've tried to keep in mind as I walk along.
I'm sure others here can think of times they've been blessed by kindness on the trail.
It got me to thinking about the many times I've received acts of kindness on the trail, as God seems to have sent along people at just the time I need them, for an encouraging word or real assistance. In the hurry of the moment I may not have expressed my gratitude enough, and wish I could write them all an "open letter" here.
Three moments of kindness come to mind from my early years of hiking. I was 15 and alone in the Whites, just starting to get to know them. I had become dehydrated crossing from Liberty to Lafayette on a torrid day, and when I finally got some water at Greenleaf I embarrassingly got sick right outside the hut. The hutmaster took me in, stretched me out on a bunk and offered to run down the trail to tell my waiting ride what had happened. Or, he said, just rest and I bet you can get down ok. His care and kind confidence in me got me on my way in time to get down before dark.
Then there was that nice older gentleman, Frank, who saw me hanging around Pinkham by myself, and invited me to hike up Lafayette with him. On top I told him I had just heard about a new trail, and we got to be among the first to descend Falling Waters, forest duff on most of the upper trail.
Then a few days later a couple of college boys asked this young kid, "Do you want to come up Huntington with us?" "Boy, would I!" They showed me how to move on rock.
I'd like to think these folks could read this and know that I still think of the ways they --and so many others over the years--showed me kindness in the mountains, something I've tried to keep in mind as I walk along.
I'm sure others here can think of times they've been blessed by kindness on the trail.
