Trail Magic

“Trail Magic, defined as an unexpected act of kindness, is a quintessential part of the Appalachian Trail experience for many long-distance hikers.”

-Appalachian Trail Conservancy

Before starting the Plover River, I had a 3.5 mile connecting route to complete from the end of the Dells segment. Connecting routes are generally pretty boring as road walks between segments, which are usually on state or private land covered in woods and prairies. Road walks mean hard pavement that wear on your feet, harsh sun beating down on you, and obnoxious cars whizzing by. So you can imagine that I wasn’t too excited about starting my day off with one, especially knowing that the previous segments in this county were so spectacular! I decided to head out early and knock off this CR before the sun got to torturous and got to the trail head around 7:30am. The day before it had been unseasonable cold and stormy and it had left a fog in its wake. The fog, the morning sun, the backwoods road…all these things combined that morning and gave me my first “Trail Magic” moment, but not the kind that most hikers have come to accept.

Trail Magic is a term coined by long-distance hikers on the Appalachian Trail. It refers to finding some much needed supplies in a giveaway box at a way-station or to people who stop to pick up a stranded hiker in a pouring rain and take them to a hotel. That’s not what I think of when I hear the term Trail Magic though. I think of Trail Magic as something the trail itself provides. Moments in the woods that catch you off-guard and take your breath away. THAT is Trail Magic. Those other things are kindnesses from strangers, which we are grateful for. But we don’t go to the woods to seek the kindness of people, we go to see what the world is like without people and the expectations of society. Trail Magic is what we find in its place.

I found some true Trail Magic on the road, of all places.

That little connecting route turned out to be a gravel road to the backwoods of the county park. No one drives this road unless they are one of the few landowners in the area. It’s the kind of road the forest chuckles at, as its branches reach across to say hello to each other and the plants below creep out onto the gravel, slowly taking back ground. Walking down this road in the early morning light filtering through the fog was magic on its own. But I met someone along the way.

It was when I sat down on a rock to tighten my boot laces that I saw her. She poked her head out of the underbrush just across the road from me. A turkey. She saw me immediately and hesitated, staring me down, deciding what kind of threat I was. I just sat there, stooped over my boot laces, not wanting to startle her. But she wasn’t scared. She knew me. She’s seen me in these woods before. She could tell I wasn’t here for her, so she stepped out onto the road. Behind her came 6 poults, small for this time of year. I smiled as I watched them amble about around her, completely oblivious to my presence. As I shifted in my uncomfortable position, she eyed my balefully one last time then took her brood up the road a ways and crossed to disappear into the underbrush once more.

And that was that. I don’t have a photo to show you of the adorable turkey family. Just the picture above of the road, the sun, and the trees. True Trail Magic doesn’t often leave behind a physical reminder. Just the memory, imprinted in your brain, that tells you that this was all worth it.