Reflections on My First 185 Mile Hike - Honoring the Natural Beauty of the C&O Canal

I embark on this spring adventure knowing no one yet quickly making new friends, who over the next 14 days become my hiking companions and tent neighbors. I am here to honor my deep love of nature, to learn the lessons she has to teach and to pay tribute to those who worked to create and preserve this beautiful area for future generations to enjoy and to become renewed.

Spring – a time of new beginnings for all things - including me. The hike begins on an unusually warm spring day and with each passing day more of nature’s wonders make themselves visible. The battery of my cell phone dies the first day and I take it as a reminder that I do not need to communicate with the outside world but rather stay focused on the beauty and serenity of this place. Thus, I begin to see the life in all that surrounds me and I honor that life.

Virginia bluebells, daffodils, violets, spring beauties and eventually trumpet vines, phlox and mayapples blanket the Earth with their quiet splendor. Red buds bring color to the landscape, evidence of beaver at work, birds chirping, baby frogs croaking and peeping, turtles of all sizes sunning themselves after a long winter under water. The rays of the sun beat down through the leafless trees, warming the body. Butterflies and birds surround me and the light breeze ripples the water and cools the skin. Hawks, woodpeckers, black snakes and my favorite blue/green scarab beetle who always shows up as I approach camp at the end of the day, as though it is coming to lead me to my home away from home. The deep blue sky is dotted with puffy white clouds. Bumble bees suck nectar from the bluebells. Eventually deer appear and vibrant green leaves spring forth on the trees until the canopy of green protects us from the bright rays of the sun.

I witness the many faces of the Canal, from sections containing little to no water with trees and shrubs growing out of the moist soil creating a swampy appearance to sections where the water is stagnant, covered with green algae – even covering the shells of the turtles that swim near the top of the water. In other sections the water is deep and clear and you can see the fish and turtles swimming near the surface. Rocky cliffs line portions of the canal, some with beautiful spring flowers clinging to the side of the rocks. A 100+ year old maple tree stands tall with outstretched branches guarding Lock 26.

The silence is interrupted only by the singing of the birds and tree frogs and an occasional train whistle in the distance. I notice the sounds of my footsteps on the path and listen to the water hitting the inside of my water bottles. Otherwise just solitude, calm, serene, tranquil. A journey of renewal and rebirth.

We experience the multiple faces of weather from hot and humid with occasional breezes, to strong winds at night, to rain creating deep puddles on the path, to freezing temperatures when one had to bundle up with everything you had - or what others were generous enough to loan you - to stay warm.

The mornings after the rain bring the smell of spring and the fresh, alive, smell of the moist rich earth. Water clings to the bluebells. Intricate spider webs hang from tree limbs glistening in the morning mist. I marvel at the wonder of their creation and I again remind myself there is no rush - to take time to stop and enjoy the wonders of all creation. All is right in our insular world.

I look forward to slowing down and taking a more leisurely walk and view of things. In some respects that takes place, although the speed with which I walk does not abate. I accept my competitiveness. From time to time I stop and sit by the river and enjoy the view and tranquillity that nature provides. I watch the water effortlessly flow by and notice that nothing in its path resists. Another wonderful lesson and reminder for life. I let go of the thoughts that no longer serve me and send them downstream with the water. Once, as I return to the path, I come upon a small 100 year old cemetery with stone markers for three children of the Jenny family - ages 6, 4 and 1. I think about the pain of the family and mourn their loss.

At the end of the long days of hiking we can cool ourselves in the river and sit and share stories. Laughter fills the air as it bubbles up from deep within us. Relaxed and at ease with new friends and companions. A community develops as we willingly help one another with camp duties or care for those whose day of hiking creates blisters and sore muscles, always pitching in to help when we see a need. Kindness abounds – one hiker, who lives nearby, makes delicious fresh muffins for all to enjoy, toe surgeries performed at all times of the day and night, reiki treatments, bonding, people offering unsolicited assistance from helping to set up tents to carrying gear to the baggage truck. One of the best treats was provided by Norman Liebow, a volunteer member of the Bike Patrol, who appears on the tow path many mornings with his warm smile and offer of an ice cream treat for us to enjoy. A smile and a shared laugh and we are back to hiking. And, of course, we cannot forget Steve Delanoy, another Bike Patrol member, who posts encouraging signs along the path with extra bottles of water should we be running low.

On day 12 I hear my first airplane since the walk began. It signals a return to reality and the hustle and bustle of real life. A recognition that this idyllic adventure will soon end. Yet I carry within me an incredible sense of peace, calm, joy and well being. I am content. Solitude is my friend. That is where the secrets of life reside - in the quiet of our heart. Nature has done her work. May we continue to honor and accept all that she has to offer and be her voice when she is threatened so that others in the future may benefit from her healing energies.

-- Sonia Elmer

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