Hike your Own Hike

After my hike the other day, I have been thinking about the upcoming One Day Hike on the 28th. I have decided not to enter that hike now. In the various hiking circles out there, I have read and heard many hikers say "Hike your own hike". I believe I do that whenever I go out, though I need to slow my pace down a notch. The hike is a release, and very hard to describe. My experiences on the trail will vary greatly from any other hiker who treads the same single track or fire road that I do. I was reviewing pictures from the past One Day Hikes. I saw a multitude of people being released from the starting points and heading down the C&O. I feel I would lose the personal effect of the trail with that many people around. I want to hike the C&O, but it will have to be on my own terms. Not with a number on my chest and checking into stations. I admit to wanting to challenge myself in how many miles I can do this year. It's in my nature to do that. I do not, however, want to lose what I feel when I am out hiking in a remote trail. It is why I primarily hike alone, though I do sometimes wish I could be sharing it with someone at the time. My upcoming back pack in May with Mike's group will be a first back pack, but also a first with a group. I look forward to seeing how that plays out, and seeing what other people are getting from the experience.
I have, for many years loved a famous poem written by a Canadian Pilot during the WWII era. Many people have quoted it over the years, but I suppose it holds meaning to each person in it's own way. For me, the poem helps me express my feelings when I am following a ridge line or finally reach an overlook that I want to claim. It is not complete, but I am not sure anything could express what I feel when I am out there. The poem was written by Pilot Officer John Gillespie Magee Jr. Magee was killed in 1941, 3 months after writing this poem on the back of a letter sent to his mother, in a mid air collision in England. He was 19 years old.

High Flight
Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings,
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds - and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of - wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air.
Up, up the long, delirious burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or even eagle flew.
And, while silent, lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.