Imagine waking up in a church fellowship hall, not in a cozy hotel room, and feeling surprisingly refreshed. That's how my morning began in Christmas, Florida, a town that lives up to its festive name. I had stayed up late the night before, yet I felt more energized than usual, perhaps due to a lighter sleep. As we packed our bags, I wondered how my energy would hold up during the day's 38-mile hike.
The highlight of our morning was a delicious Chick-fil-A breakfast, a rare treat that I couldn't remember enjoying in ages. I savored a frozen coffee and a breakfast burrito, a perfect start to our adventure. But the real adventure began when we resumed our hike, with a bit of road walking before we ventured back into the woods. I even had a chance to catch up with my mom, a much-needed conversation after neglecting my family calls due to our busy hiking schedule.
As we approached the trailhead, a cute graffiti on the marker welcomed us. But my mind wandered back to a previous hike in 2023, when I had a strange encounter with a man who pulled over to talk to me. He seemed clueless about thru-hiking and made me feel uncomfortable. I quickly ended the conversation and continued on my way, only to have a more pleasant chat with another stranger later on. But the memory of that first man lingered as I walked alone in the woods.
And then, it happened again. I saw a figure waving excitedly ahead of me on the trail. It was the same man from before, and I was alone with him in the woods. We had an odd conversation, and he insisted on taking a photo with me, despite not knowing who I was. I felt vulnerable, unarmed, and alone in the darkening woods. It was a scary situation, and I was grateful that he didn't have any malicious intentions.
This experience made me reflect on my growth as a hiker and a woman. I've come a long way since 2023, yet I had a similar, even more frightening encounter this year. But I believe my response was shaped by the challenges I've faced and learned from over the past couple of years.
The trail ahead was a mix of dry, flat paths and swampy areas. We navigated through Little Big Econ State Forest, walking on massive boardwalks and even climbing over wooden railings to avoid deep water. I rewarded myself with a Blueberry white tea by Arizona for keeping my feet dry, but soon enough, we had no choice but to soak our feet in the dark, swampy water. It was exhausting trying to stay dry, and I realized it's often better to just embrace the wet conditions and save time.
We reached a beautiful camp site with a massive oak tree and two picnic tables, a perfect spot for a break. We stretched and enjoyed the surroundings, but we still had a ways to go to reach the town of Christmas. I called the pastor of the local church to ask about staying at the fellowship hall, and he informed us about an AA meeting that would be wrapping up around 7 PM. We didn't mind waiting, and we even had time to stop at the small gas station store in town.
The trail became swampy and flooded again, and our progress slowed significantly. We hoped for an early arrival in Christmas, but the flooding worsened as the day went on. We found a bench to rest and stretch, but even that was surrounded by standing water. We had to sit with our legs awkwardly positioned to avoid getting wet.
The next few hours were a struggle. The trail was underwater, and at times, the water reached our knees. Navigating the flooded trail was challenging, as hidden obstacles beneath the murky water slowed us down. We tried to maintain a steady pace without splashing too much water on ourselves. Despite the difficulties, we made it through the swamp, albeit at a slower pace.
As we crossed Christmas Creek, we realized we wouldn't make it to town as early as we'd hoped. The AA meeting at the fellowship hall was no longer an issue, as we were nowhere near arriving by 7 PM. After hours of hiking through swampy water, we emerged onto a dirt road as darkness fell. We opted to stay on the road, avoiding more swampy terrain, which was mentally draining despite my physical resilience.
The dirt road led us to a beautiful RV park, lit up with Christmas decorations. It was almost Christmas, and we were in the aptly named town of Christmas, where it's Christmas all year round. I couldn't believe I was spending another Christmas on the trail, something I never expected earlier in the year.
We reached the general store and realized we needed a significant resupply, as the next opportunity was still days away at River Ranch. We stocked up on food and drinks for the next few days, and I even bought 5 different drinks for the evening and the following day, perhaps a bit of an overkill. We ordered a pizza and waited, enjoying the moment.
After finishing our shopping, we sat at a picnic table to eat our pizza. Pastor Ken, who had kindly come to check on us, joined us. He was surprised we weren't at the fellowship hall yet, unaware of the swampy trail that had slowed us down. We chatted, ate, and packed our food, grateful for the pastor's offer to drive us to the church. We decided to walk there ourselves, as it was only a mile away.
By the time we reached the fellowship hall, it was almost 9 PM, and we had only covered a little over 30 miles due to the swamp hiking. We had planned to hike an additional 5-6 miles, but it was too late, so we called it a day. As we walked from the gas station to the church, we even saw a bobcat crossing the road, a wild sight in the town.
At the fellowship hall, we set up our sleeping pads and washed up for the night. I was too tired for a shower, so I settled for washing my legs. Exhausted, we headed to bed, and I was amazed at how well my energy had held up despite the lack of sleep the night before. It was a testament to my resilience and the power of a good night's rest, even if it was on a church floor.
If you've enjoyed this adventure and would like to support my journey, consider buying me a soda or a snack along the way. Every little bit of support is greatly appreciated!
