“Okay, let’s see,” Phillip said aloud to himself while checking over his gear one last time.

His tent, sleeping bag, and foam pad were all tied to the back of the pack. The side pockets had his first aid kit, tinderbox, snacks, and water bottles. The main pouch held his clothes, food, hatchet, and other camp tools.

“Extra pair of shoes?” he wondered to himself.

His spare pair of shoes were bulky and heavy, but if he needed them he’d be glad to have them. But for the distance he was aiming to hike, every ounce counted and hauling around a few pounds of extra shoes didn’t sound very appealing. In the end, he decided against them and instead added in a few extra MRE’s.

On the table beside him, Phillip had laid out the map for his trip. He knew the trail well, having hiked it so many times over the last few years that he hardly needed it anymore but he still liked to go through all the motions.

Once he was satisfied with his pack he gave the map a final look before folding it up and tucking it into the pocket of his vest where it nestled comfortably beside his compass. Satisfied with everything, he slung the pack over one shoulder and carried it out to his car.

It was still dark outside and very quiet. The drive to reach the trailhead would take several hours and he wanted to get started as early as he could. He set the destination on his cell phone and began to back out of the driveway.

The monotone, slightly feminine voice of the navigator on his phone droned on, interrupting his thoughts until he reached the freeway and told him to continue for two hundred miles. It would be a good long while before it would speak again.

He left the radio off. Sometimes Phillip liked to listen to audiobooks on long drives but even those didn’t appeal to him for this trip. The peace of the night was all he wanted for now.

Occasional strips of streetlamps highlighted the exits and rest stops along the freeway. He counted the number of lamps each time. When it became bright enough outside to see, he began counting the posts that marked the edge of the road for snowplows in the winter. He didn’t see many other cars on the road as he drove, even as morning crept nearer. He didn’t expect to see many cars though. This was about as close to the middle of nowhere that you could get.

When he finally turned into the unpaved parking lot at the trailhead he was pleased to find that he was the only one there. He pulled his car around behind a few trees so it wouldn’t be visible from the road and then got out. He was stiff from the long drive and took the time to stretch and limber up before starting the hike in earnest.

“Okay, here we go.”

He put on his pack, cinching it up and making sure it was sitting comfortably, and then began to hike. That first day he kept his pace fairly leisurely and he stopped for regular breaks. By the time he stopped for the evening he’d gone just under twelve miles. The terrain was rough and so he was still aching as he nestled into his sleeping bag for the night.

By morning his aches were mostly gone and after a quick breakfast he was off once again. The landmarks were so well known to him that he didn’t check his map more than a few times, and that was just to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. He needn’t have worried. He knew exactly where he was and progressed unerringly.

By the fourth day he was really hitting his stride. As with any long-distance hike, it took a few days for his body to adjust to the physical labor of walking so much, but now that he’d adjusted he was able to make anywhere between fifteen and twenty miles each day. The wild herbs, berries, and mushrooms that his father had taught him to identify helped supplement his daily meals and gave him enough variety that he never got tired of his simple food.

At last, on the eighth day of his hike he slowed down his pace. He was getting near to his destination now and the weight of that thought seemed to drag him down more than usual. Memories of the first time he’d been on this trail, all those years ago, flooded over him as they always did when he was in this place.

His feet moved as if on autopilot, carrying him ahead while his mind was distracted with his memories. It wasn’t until he stopped for his afternoon meal that he realized how far he’d gone without even thinking. For a moment he feared that he might have missed a turn or gotten lost but a quick survey of the land and a comparison with the map calmed him down. Even without paying attention he’d still managed to navigate properly.

“How many times have I hiked this trail?” Phillip wondered to himself.

He’d lost count over the years. Whenever he had the time in his schedule, this was the place he went. There were other hikes he did throughout the year, certainly. Some shorter and a few longer, but this was the one he always made time for. He didn’t care if it was Summer, Winter, or any other time of year. It was also the one hike he never talked about. No one knew he came here so often. He wasn’t sure how he would explain it if anyone did find out.

That evening he reached his destination. He hadn’t been expecting to come across it until the next day but there was no mistaking the place. He knew it far too well to be mistaken.

A thick, fallen tree lay at a sharp angle just off to the side of the trail. The ground around the fallen tree was mostly flat and even with very few rocks protruding out of the ground. It would have been the perfect place for a campsite were it not for the fallen tree. Most of the smaller branches had long since weathered away but a few of the larger ones remained, splaying outward like broken bones. Some of them were sunk into the earth, driven there by the force of the tree when it had fallen.

Phillip sat down on the tree and rested a hand on the barkless wood. He shut his eyes and remembered back to that night. It had been a particularly wet Spring and the winds were picking up as they settled into their tents. He’d been uneasy about the spot the others had chosen and set his tent further away from the tree line. As a result, his tent was buffeted more fiercely by the wind. As the faint echoes of creaking wood began to play in his mind he stopped his thoughts before they could go further into that memory.

He opened his eyes and breathed deeply, smelling the decay of the tree, mingled with the scents of pollen and moss. It was a beautiful place, after all, and he wasn’t yet ready to have it spoiled for him. A part of him wanted to face the events, wanted something. Closure, maybe, if that was possible. Each time he came here he hoped he would be able to finish the memory, to let it play out. Each time he stopped himself.

“Someday,” Phillip muttered, patting the tree, “but not today, I guess.”

He didn’t wait. He just got up and walked away. There was a place not far from here where he usually made camp. It wasn’t very well sheltered but he didn’t mind. He slept better there anyway.