Last year I started a tradition for myself. Since I have no family near where I live and Christmas is such a family time, I hike a long trail  on Christmas and think of everyone I meet as my family. Last year, it was the Appalachian Trail from Newfound Gap to Charlies Bunion and back. This year it was the popular Alum Cave to LeConte Lodge trail. 

Not too many days ago Alum Cave trail was covered in ice above the bluff, but warmer temperatures created no need for micro spikes, even though I carried them just in case. Technically a challenging trail, it is five miles from the parking lot in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park to the Lodge. The first almost half of the journey is a very popular destination—to Alum Cave Bluff. So, the parking lot is almost always full and the trail busy below this area. There is an elevation gain of 2661 feet from the trail head to the Lodge. It’s hard. Even below the bluff, it’s challenging and only gets more so past the bluff. But enough of the technical details. 

There’s usually a good many solo hikers on Christmas Day. I especially feel compassion for them because I understand being alone and wanting to do something fun and beautiful to enrich my life on a day that can be challenging to be alone. So, I’m not alone. They are not alone.

On yesterday’s hike, it was a global family I met. Many languages were heard…English, Russian, Spanish, Thai, Japanese, Hindi, and others. Solo hikers, couples, and large families shared the trail. There were Christmas sweaters, Christmas hats, jingle bells, new shoes and boots (evidenced by lack of muddiness on a very muddy trail), and a sense of joy and happiness with everyone. No matter what holiday people celebrated or the spiritual tradition they followed, everyone shared this season of light with smiles.

Folks ascending from Alum Cave Bluff to LeConte Lodge are often tourists and don’t understand the challenges of the steep, rugged, rocky, strenuous trail. They start later in the day and with shorter, winter days, don’t realize how dangerous that can be. Temperatures drop, the sun sets early, and cell phones aren’t dependable lights for a descent through rough terrain in the dark.

On my way down yesterday, I started at 12.30pm from the Lodge. It wasn’t as crowded yesterday, but there were several people hiking up. Many of them stopped me and asked how far it was to the top. I always take time to chat because many are not prepared. One young woman had a large water bottle but was shocked to learn there’s no water available during the off season as guest services are shut off. So she’d have no water coming down the five miles. She was trying to decide if she should try to make it to Myrtle Point, an observation point past the lodge. We discussed her options and resources. A young couple asked me how far it was to the lodge and if could they make it. I asked them questions about their provisions and the important questions: do you have a flashlight and water? They wanted to know why about the light. By then, it was nearing 2pm and they were an hour away from the Lodge. That gave them 2 hours to get down the trail. It takes me 2 ½ hours to get down the trail and I’m very familiar with it. I asked them if they were prepared to hike down in the dark. Gently, of course. But they were my family, so I wanted them to be safe.

And so, the afternoon went as I descended through clouds. Saying hello, wishing folks a Merry Christmas, and enjoying my family Christmas hike. 

There’s the family we are born into, the friends that become family along the way, and then there’s the global family that isn’t defined by boundaries, languages, spiritual practices, or rules. We are one human family.

I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the family of trees and rocks and creeks that we are all part of. So to those large hemlocks, spruce, and fir trees that remind me every time I’m on this trail to slow down…I love you and am glad to be part of your family. To the rocks that glisten in rain or snow, thanks for being part of my family. To the mountains, who provide life for all of this beauty…I’m so grateful to be part of your family. The red squirrels who chitter and chatter, I love you brothers and sisters. To the ravens that call out as they soar between ridges….I love you winged ones. All the deer and bears that are shy and usually hide, I know you are there and am grateful to be part of your family. To the grasses and flowering plants, the rhododendrons and mountain laurel, thank you for letting me sit at your table of abundant beauty.