Wandering with a Stranger

When I needed company,

I found a wise wanderer upon my trail...

It was just a year since I had proposed to my now ex, at the same trail. We had been apart for almost eight months, and I had moved on almost entirely. What haunted me though, was the pledge I had made to the gods. After I had proposed at Bridle Veil Falls, I climbed to a slightly higher waterfall, somewhat off-trail. It was there that I called on the gods (Freyja, Odin, Ullr, and Skadi) to take my offering in exchange for hearing my oath and supporting me in fulfilling it. My oath: to love and support my partner, providing both of us lifelong happiness. Along with the standard parts of moving on from a relationship, it was this oath that lingered with me. I felt as though I had failed her, myself, and the gods. I felt like an oathbreaker.

As I made my way up the trail, repeating the word "redemption" in my head, I was focused on making amends. I reached the falls, crossed the water, and found the spot where I had prayed 366 days prior. I sat, calming myself from the vigorous ascent, and focused on meditating. I felt the balancing point in my consciousness and initiated my dialogue. I asked the gods to forgive me for not being able to uphold my oath, I asked the same of myself, and I let a few simple tears fall. I kept repeating the requests, letting my inner self acknowledge that the breaking of my oath was out of my control to a degree and therefore not entirely my fault. I felt relief and a release started to pour over me as the weight of my guilt. Feeling rejuvenated and invigorated, I left the falls to seek the real challenge and reward: Lake Serene.

Halfway down the branch trail of the falls, I passed a hiker who I had seen leave the parking lot just before me. She too was on her way down from the waterfalls. In casual trail banter, I simply asked,

"Are you going all the way to the top?" referring, to Lake Serene.

"Yep!" she replied, enthusiastically. "And by the looks of it, I should be able to see you there! Since we are keeping the same pace and all..."

"Sure! I am trying to use this as a training hike," I replied, referencing the 50lb hunting pack I was lugging around.

There was nothing more to the exchange, but it was distinctly pleasant. I was feeling so extremely confident. Forgetting just how steep and long the hike was, I resumed the main trail at a near jog. I was powering up the first few switchbacks. But, as the altitude and steps increased, my motivation and pace decreased; I was sapped. I stood at the fifth switchback of twenty-three with my hands on my knees and questioned where my 'power through' mentality had gone and how it had left so quickly. That is when I heard steps coming from back down the trail.

I turned to see the woman who had somehow closed the large gap I had put between us in my naive push up the mountainside. I was unable to hide my look of confusion as the woman in jeans and white sneakers quickly closed the ground on me, who was in shorts and aggressive hiking boots. She picked up on this and, with a smile, she offered:

"I was trying to catch you. Gotta prove to myself that I can hike like I did 10 years ago." I laughed, out of breath, and we began making our way up the trail together. We started with the basics; where we were from, our occupations, and our histories with the hike. But, not more than five minutes more though, she just so happened to run into an old acquaintance. Seeing that they were going to catch up and that I was a new stranger, I took my leave. I also decided to ditch my pack, so as to make the last half of the trek a light and breezey one.

I took to stepping and the next fifteen switchbacks blew by. I was nearly jogging again, but I felt like it was much more sustainable this time. Towards the top, my legs began burning from the altitude and basic lack of oxygen. It was here, at switchback nineteen or twenty that I decided to take a quick rest. I was sitting for only two minutes when I heard her footsteps coming from around the bend.

I stood there, in disbelief. I had a beaming smile, recognizing that this person reflected much of myself. As I stood with my hands on my hips, I shook my head, smiled, and snarkily greeted her,

"You absolute ass." She smiled, shrugged, and said she couldn't help it. We finished the rest of the hike to the top together. She had not been to the lake in ten years, and it had been five years or so for me. We took it all in, sharing the various conditions we had seen the lake in over our many visits. That day it was simply perfection; blue skies, sunshine, and almost seventy degrees with a slight breeze. There is a reason I consider this place to be the holiest of all that I have seen. We enjoyed the summit separately, as she sought the bluff while I lost my boots and socks to wade into the frigid water.

After about twenty minutes, I started lacing my boots back up and she returned from the overlook. She indicated that she was ready to make her return trip. I wanted a few more moments at the summit, so I shook her hand and sincerely thanked her for the time and company. With that, we parted ways. I made my way to the bluff and looked out over the small valley that ended at Stevens Pass. It was incredible, the small explosions of deciduous trees amongst the evergreens; bursts of gold, amber, and crimson. I felt at peace and balanced once more. So, I decided to head down the trail.

I had stayed at the top for about twenty minutes longer than my newfound friend, and with the casual descent I was making, I was not expecting to see her again. But, I did. I caught her only about five switchbacks down. She was making her way quite slowly due to some old injury getting cranky. We were both pleased to see each other again and resumed our great conversations. We discussed the education system, what our pandemic experiences were, our political beliefs, and our passion for community service in parks and recreation. While she was about ten years older than I, it made no difference as we found common ground around every switchback. At no point did I bore of the subject matter or feel as though I was dragging her through something she didn't care about.

When we reached the bottom, I again shook her hand and, with as much enthusiasm and sincerity as I could muster, I thanked her for her company and time. With that, we officially parted ways. As I drove away, I continued to reflect on the afternoon. It was moving. Why had it meant so much to me? What about it, about her, had impacted me so? I had been struggling in recent weeks with a couple of issues. First, I had been feeling as though I was lacking friends and social connections. Despite my best efforts, I had nothing to show for weeks of trying to reach beyond my comfort zone to establish these connections. Suddenly and effortlessly, I was able to make a genuine connection with a complete stranger. Second, is my relationship with the gods. I had been realizing that my dwindling connection with my spirituality was decreasing in accordance with my dealing with the loss of my sister; the more devasted I was about the loss, the more connected I felt, but as learned to deal with the loss, my connection to the gods seemed to fade. So, I sought out my holiest of places to see if the connection was still there.

But, this stranger managed to affirm my standing with both. With simple conversation and company, two personal crises were laid to rest. It is as Havi said in Havimal, St 47:

Young was I, wandering alone,

when I found a friend and felt rich;

soul is fed by soul