I have never suffered under the delusion that I was cooler than my parents. They’ve been embarking on badass, hardcore adventures together since before I was born, and pretty much as soon as I could walk, they strapped me into a backpack. Granted, in those early days, all I carried was a bag of trail mix and my teddy bear.
Nearly every school break meant a trek in the woods or a paddle in our 17 foot canoe. As I got older, I joined them on fewer and fewer adventures, but past excursions have had a profound effect on who I’ve become. My artwork is entirely based upon my experience in nature and my reverence for the spaces I’ve been fortunate enough to reside within for however brief a time. Whenever I fall into a creative rut, I know the way to get out of it is to get outside.
When my parents said they were planning to take on the MST, I wasn’t surprised. After Jeff broke his leg last year, I think we all realized that there will always be a million reasons not to, and a million reasons to do it. The fact is that my parents are at the peak of their physical game. They’ve been crushing it in adventure races for a few years now and currently rank #6 in the national adventure race ranking for their division. I have no doubts that they’re ready for this.
They’ve worked hard training and planning out every meticulous step of the journey. Every little detail was accounted for— including, yes, toilet paper. My father asked how many squares of TP I think I run through in a week, and I replied that, I suspect like most others, I haven’t even the faintest idea. There was then a family challenge to start counting squares which I did not follow through with, so if they ended up not packing enough TP then they are fully justified in blaming me.
Despite all those months and years of preparation, none of it ever felt REAL until I began measuring things in ‘lasts.’ I meet my mother every other Thursday for breakfast at Yellow Dog Cafe in downtown. The morning before the trip was the last time we’ll do that for awhile. There was our last family dinner, last hugs, last text sent and delivered, last time they walked out the front door of their house.
It’s been a team effort. From Raleigh I drove my parents to Greensboro, where our friend Chad drove them to Asheville, where they stayed overnight with our friends Bonnie and Alex. The next morning, Bonnie and Alex drove them to the trailhead at Clingman’s Dome and hiked the first few miles in with them, progress slowed by the torrential rains. Bonnie called afterward to report that on the drive up they saw a bear by the side of the road... hopefully the first and last they see that close on this trip of over 1,000 miles.
Before they left, we had a going-away party. Family and longtime friends came to wish my parents luck and offer a helping hand— some will be carrying food packages and supplies to them along the trail. I was so grateful for these people because it truly is through everyone’s support, emotional and tangible, that my parents are able to take on this journey. So, as their daughter and number one fan, I just want to say thank you to each and every one of you.
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| Day One |
Beautiful, summer
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