The Wonderland Journal

One of the most notable and impactful things people who have hiked the PCT talk about is how kind people are: free meals, people going out of their way to help others, strangers offering rides, etc. Kindness is all around the trail.

So I look forward to encountering all of that kindness when I get on trail in a couple of weeks! However, I didn’t expect to encounter that generosity so soon, in the little town to whom I’ve always felt a foreigner due to my adventurous ways.

Word had gotten around that I would be leaving for 6 months to go hiking, a concept that is practically other-worldly to the residents of my town. People here prefer drinking beer by the poolside or hunting dinner during deer season. Walking through the woods for days on end while surviving on top ramen and instant coffee? Not really their cup of tea. In fact, I get a lot of questions like Will you be carrying a tent? Sleeping in a sleeping bag? Where will you sleep? How will you get food? Not foraging, right? How do you use the bathroom? Like I said, thru-hiking isn’t exactly in the vocabulary of this community.

This story begins with a touch of spontaneity, one of which I’m still not sure why I thought was a brilliant idea.

A yard sale.

Why spend money on a send-off party when I can make money while decluttering? I thought.

Well, let me just say that my mom was a saint in making everything happen. Plus, she’s simply more personable than I am. With that, she can convince one to purchase items with so much confidence that I wonder why she doesn’t just run straight to the advertising business.

With donations from friends and family, there was ample merchandise at this yard sale. Upon a single purchase we encouraged customers to take as much of the clothes, books, toys, and other items alike as they wanted. Whatever didn’t sell was going to be donated.

Mom, awake by 5:00 AM that morning, and myself up and moving shortly after, set out tables piled with clothes, shoes, toys, and more. We enjoyed a coffee from the local coffee shop just down the block. “People who go to yard sales always get up early,” Mom informed me.

It seems times have changed, because 7:00 AM hit and we had zero customers. This did, however, give us extra time to lay everything out.

Around 8:30 AM, a young man with wild hair and wide eyes in house slippers wandered over to the sale. He and his family were watching our activity in the sleepy morning from their home adjacent to my mom’s hair salon, where the sale was held. Later he brought his wife and 8-month-old son with alert eyes and a concerned brow to mosy through our setup. Mom ended up packing them down like sherpas with the stylish baby clothes that once belonged to our friend. “His wardrobe is going to look so good!” the young mom said. Both my mom and I were so happy to give to this little family just as so many had given to me.

Another woman came with her adult son, and it just happened to be his 21st birthday! He wore a name tag belonging to our local grocery store. I felt for him having to go into work later that Saturday, and on his birthday, much less.

Again, they gave us a few dollars and took some great finds. “Take anything you want!” I said as they bid their goodbyes.

“I don’t want to be greedy!” The woman replied.

“Please, be greedy! All of this will be donated if we can’t sell it. Here, allow me.” I responded. She needed more hands, so her son, my friend Eric, and myself all took the various items of rugs and blankets to their car while she shopped some more. Again, we were delighted to be able to give to those who could benefit from the generosity shown to me.

Friends and coffee shop customers came by to shop and wish me luck on my journey. That’s all I wanted from it. This genius idea – I say with slight sarcasm – was just a way to make a little money by giving people the opportunity to donate if they wanted, but also to bid me good luck and farewell. By the end of it we donated an entire truck full to the local thrift store.

Even though we didn’t sell everything we intended to, the financial outcome was astounding. I’ve had people donate five, ten, twenty, or a hundred dollars to this venture. Customers have given and friends of my friends have given!

A customer of my mom handed her ten dollars and said, “I know it’s not much, but I want to help Katy out.”

That’s the most touching ten dollars I’ve been given in my life.

It’s funny, my coworker said to me yesterday, “You must feel so loved!”

To which I responded, “Not necessarily. I’m just so taken aback.”

Why would people want to give to me?

Yes, I do feel loved, but I’m going on a fun trip. An extended vacation. Why would so many people want to give to someone’s vacation?

Maybe they support this incredible journey on which I’m about to embark. Maybe they want to hear all about it, that someone in their circle is going to do something amazing. Maybe they’re just being nice. Maybe they’re saying thank you for all the times I asked questions about their lives, their families, and made them feel seen and heard, which is the case with so many of my customers at the coffee shop.

Beyond labeling people by their drink order, I’ve been able to see my customers as they go through life changes. They try for a baby. Show me photos of the new baby. Hunt for jobs. Get a new job. A partner turns into a fiancée or a fiancée into a spouse. They move homes. They grieve the loss of friends or family. They begin new homeschool journeys. They undergo operations and wait anxiously for good news.

Of course, I know all of this because I ask them about themselves. What I think is only a single moment in a day slowly turns into something different, a sort of sacred relationship where a customer and I only know each other in the context of the coffee shop.

This week I’ve had customers handing me twenty dollar bills, and I don’t know why they’re so kind. Perhaps it’s because I’ve nurtured this special barista-customer relationship and they feel something about it. I think I’ve made an impact on people, but I didn’t mean to.

When I look at myself, I see a lot of good. I also see what needs improvement: to be more patient and unbothered about things. To be more forgiving. To be a harder worker. To talk less and listen more. While all of that may be true, I wonder if that’s not how other people see me. All I can say is that we all have an impact on people, and sometimes we just don’t know how big of a footprint we’ve left behind.

I’m incredibly grateful to all who’ve supported me thus far. My friend who set up a special send-off hike within our gym community. All of the customers and friends and family who have donated money to the cause of a really long hike.

Some of these people are counting pennies for their own budgets. A regular at the coffee shop, who always drinks a small black coffee and gets a blueberry muffin, comes in every other day or so. He’s an older gentleman who lives alone with his adorable cat. Often, he’ll go on and on about classic movies and music recommendations. He gave $20 to me, but I know every coffee order he places he always says, “I’m old and I’m a veteran.” The discounts add up, after all. And my young pastor whose family is always living below their means to put others first. He, too, left a generous tip in support of my hike. Again and again, people give, no matter how much or little they have.

I’m so surprised at how much support I’ve gotten for this trip. No one had to give, but they did. I would have been happy with best wishes and a hug goodbye! Instead? I’ve gotten so much financial support that it showed me that this thing I’m going to do really is what I’m supposed to be doing. It wiped away any doubt I had about whether or not I was moving in the right direction.

So thank you, to my little town in North Carolina. I may feel out of place here, but you’ve accepted me into your family with all of my dreams, quirks, and wild stories. And you showed up in a way that I truly can’t comprehend because it was so big.