We felt the green-stream of kinetic energy marching us north towards Maine, along with thousands of other pilgrims who have felt the calling. Three months ago, on the well-worn path through the fertile heart of the Appalachian Mountains, we swore allegiance to follow the singular, white markings on the trees in return for a holistic shakedown.

But, if the purest Pilgrim’s devotion to the continuity of the journey is fanatical, ours is more liberal. We cannot help but be skeptical of the accepted Trail dogma and rebel by giddily traipsing off the path.

More and more, we have become aware of secondary energetic rapids, tributaries, and meta-tidal pools concurrent to the Trail.

Our faith in a singular objective has faltered as we have now handed over daily navigation duties to an amplified personal intuition, one that arises through sweaty, brutal conditioning in the forests.

This new awareness seems to protect and guide us: We always find what we are looking for, even when we break ranks with the discipline of the white blazes.*

I think this subtler gravity is what we sought when we left home.

*Although, we missed “hike-naked-day” due to food poisoning. I'm not sure how this fits into the plan.