1835 miles

I've always had a knack for tuning out the hustle-bustle around me to do calc homework in the gym or spend hours on a busy street corner on the pay phone. Right now, the folks are gathering on the porch and opening cans of Bud and the TV is prattling away. But through it all, I still manage to hear, "Is Lily still on the computer? If she spends any more time on the computer, she'll go cross-eyed."

I yell back through the window, "I already am, Richard!"

I've been hostel-hopping since Damascus: Kincora, then Mountain Harbor, then Brian and Matt's cabin in Black Mountain, NC (not technically a hostel, haha), tonight Uncle Johnny's on the Nolichucky River. One night in a shelter in the woods, one night on a mattress under sheets. They are warm, comfy, welcoming places unrivaled by hostels farther north.

Richard was rocking in his chair and talking to us, to the night: "Probably the greatest reason for us to enjoy this life is that, for all of eternity, we have the chance to exist for this brief period of time."

This section south of Damascus has been one of my favorites on the trail so far. First, Laurel Fork, up and down rock steps right next to the water, past falls, between chiseled rocks. Then the balds on sunny, breezy days, grass rippling, with views of tall, handsome, blue ridges in all directions. Then dark, almost secretive Roan and Unaka with their spruce forests.

I'm glad I'm slowing down, and I don't plan to go that fast for the remainder of my hike if I can help it. It's going to be a whirlwind when I get off. Savor, Lily. Find those long moments of peace on the trail. Find your bliss.