Gilligan on the AT Revisited: 12-May-1993
May 12, 2008
This is a 5-month long series of blog posts that are the entries in my journals written on most evenings as I hiked the Appalachian Trail in 1993. The journal entry appears first — indented — and then any additional commentary from my 15-years-removed perspective follows.
5/12/93 — Wed.
We covered 13.8 miles today & are staying 1/2 mile shy of the Blue Mountain shelter in a campsite with Dan. He doesn’t like to stay in shelters because of the mice there, and Dad worries about them being crowded (as if the two of us in the tent together aren’t crowded!). After we’d made camp, two other thru-hikers came through on their way to the Blue Mountain shelter, so father probably knows best. Those two had started a day after us and had caught us in less than a week, so I think we are kind of poking along. Dad continues to kind of burn out in the early afternoon, and his knees are still kind of stiff. Dan is kind of a big guy, and he is not really interested in hurrying along (as none of us should be, but I’d rather not have to flip-flop to finish the trail).
I continue to miss Julie, and I keep singing Alabama’s "She and I" to myself as we walk along. Dad and I talked about marriage at a young age, and he pointed out that Mom was only 23 when they got married. he started to say that probably the most important thing was to be sure you were ready to get married, but he backed off that because he said he & Mom probably weren’t ready as they hardly knew each other. I know how much I love Julie and just hope that twenty-five years from now we are as happy together as Mom and Dad.
She & I
She and I live in our own little world
Don’t worry ’bout the world outside
She and I agree
That she and I lead
A perfectly normal life.
Ah, but just because we aren’t often seen separately
People think we live one life.
It’s hard for them to see
How anyone can be
As close as she and I
Oh! Ain’t it great?
(Ain’t it great?)
Ain’t it fine?
(Ain’t it fine?)
To have a love
A love, that others can’t find.
Ain’t it wonderful to know.
All we ever need is just the two of us
She and I!
She and I share with everybody else
The same wants, needs, and desires
She and I (?)
And she and I pay
On everything we acquire
Ah, but just because we aren’t often seen socially
People think we’ve something to hide.
But all are [sic] friends know
We’re just a little old
Fashioned – she and I.
Well, I knew this somewhat corny entry was lurking somewhere…but I had no idea it was in the first week! The "25 years" pondering was interesting to re-read — despite the continuing abuse of my dad, it sounds like there was some decent introspection going on there.