The Long Walk Back

The sweet scent of summer wafted through the tree line, showering the mountain with the fragrance of pine, and clearing out any remnants of the morning dew. The sun had fully risen but was still a few hours from its highest point. Warm enough to not need a heavy coat, but cold enough that the crisp chill of the wind rushing down the hillside would nip at any exposed skin. We got out of the car and Walker took a big inhale of the fresh air and said, “Perfect weather!”

 We got out of my humble sedan and laced up our boots, strapped on our backpacks, and started heading up the mountain, excited to be hiking up a familiar trail. We had made the journey up Mt. Lakewood every year since we were kids. Originating from a boy scouts’ trip that we took back when we were ten years old initially sparked our love of hiking and the outdoors. Though we didn’t stick with the boy scouts, we did keep the tradition of going for hikes up Mt Lakewood when we could. These hiking trips over the years kept our friendship alive despite him moving away, us going to different schools, getting jobs in different states, and us getting married and settling down with our growing families. 

When friends asked about him, I would always describe Walker as “the smartest man I have ever met.” He wasn’t the most academic or particularly studious, Walker simply enjoyed the act of learning. It became a hobby of mine to wind him up about a fun fact I would tell him that he never learned and then watch him go devouring every morsel of information on the fact he could find. A thin frame and lanky arms, Walker would bound up the trail with huge strides. Only stopping to mock me as I fell behind him on the trail. “You would think after hiking so much you would be more in shape.” He said loitering at the top of a hill. “But then I would deny you the rare opportunity of being better than me at something.” I said with a smile.

Our usual route along Arrowroot Trail would take us around the mountain about 7,000 feet up to a gorgeous plateau, and then a straight shot up the last 2,500 feet to the summit. Most years we went to the top and took in the view for about an hour, but the last time we hiked this trail a Ranger had mentioned that the last bit to the summit had been experiencing more frequent landslides and warned us to be more careful on loose rocks. Thankfully, Walker looked up everything there was to know about landslides right after the Ranger told us, so he felt pretty confident about it this year. I asked him while we were about halfway up the trail, “We going to the top this year? Or is it too risky?” He looked back and said, “It hasn’t rained in the last couple of days, so the ground isn’t too loose. I bet we could go to the top if we keep an eye out for soft dirt!” This spurned us both on a bit faster since we had missed the view last time.

We spent the time up the trail laughing and telling jokes. He asked a bunch of questions about how my wife and my newborn girl Amara are doing. Meanwhile, I couldn’t get him to stop talking about their new puppy and how his 3-year-old son Jacob treats that little dog like they are brothers. He must have whipped out his phone to show me cute pictures of the two of them at least a dozen times. Which also gave me the perfect excuse to show him all the cute photos of Amara I had taken over the past year. It felt like no time had passed since we had last seen each other almost a year ago. We talked about work, and how he was about to get a raise and promotion after he passes a certification exam. He asked me about married life and how Stephanie puts up with me.

The conversation never ceased and flowed like water. One topic lead right into the next, just like we were back in scouts. Only ever stopping once we reached one of the scenic overlooks to soak in the view. Pine trees sporadically spaced and clustered against huge rock faces and craggy foothills. Serving like patches of evergreen stacked up against the midday horizon on the picturesque landscape. I looked at Walker during these moments of beauty. His kind eyes looking out to the world with a bright smile on his face. Happy to be able to appreciate being here in this moment looking out over the world. As we gazed, my own appreciation of Walker grew as well. I didn’t have many friends. I had plenty of acquaintances and work buddies but few like Walker. I don’t even think I would want to do these hikes with anyone other than Walker. Few friendships stand the test of time and to have one that does makes life all the sweeter. 

We continued on until lunch time, when we broke off the trail and found a nice outcropping of rocks to set up. I pulled out a ham and cheese sandwich my wife had made for me. Neatly prepared and cut in half as he laughed and pulled out his own sandwich. A footlong sub from the deli, piled high with meat and cheese. “You really think you can eat all of that and still make it to the top and back down?” I asked playfully. He smirked and casually responded, “I brought it up the mountain and it is not making it down. Unless you want a bite? I will just tell Steph that you thought her food wasn’t good enough.” I joked, “If you say that then I don’t think either of us will make it to the next trip.” We shared a laugh as I shoveled my sandwich into my mouth. He delayed for a second and whispered under his breath, “Next trip huh?” I don’t think he knew I heard him, but I didn’t think anything of it, thinking he was reminiscing about the top highlights of our hikes we had conquered over the years. He tore into his sandwich like a starving animal and his words were already forgotten.  

We ate our respective sandwiches in silence, both of us more starved than we realized. As I was packing my trash away from lunch, Walker was still only half way through eating his massive sandwich. I sat down and waited for him to finish, trying to strike up friendly conversation. “So, what is the next year looking like for you?” He chewed softly and thought about what would come next. “Well, that promotion of course, and I guess I will try some new things. Maybe get some new shoes?” He lifted his leg and showed the wear and tear of his walking boots. The sole was barely attached, and what was attached was perforated with holes. I could see past his shoes and past his socks to the fleshy meat of his foot. “Woah dude! Get some new shoes! Those things are hanging on by a thread!” He laughed, but I couldn’t help noticing that the state of his shoes was mirrored by the rest of his clothes. His cargo pants had holes in the pockets and over his knee, his jacket was torn and cut with small plums of white stuffing popping out. “Wow, what is he wearing?” I thought to myself. I held back and didn’t want to joke and mention the rest of his clothes, worried he might get offended.

The sun was just past midday as we made our way up to the plateau 7,000 feet up the mountain. At this elevation the air was thin but crisper. More bracing as my lungs filled with the cool air. We both looked out to the summit and then back to each other. Without a word, we both nodded and smiled, determined to reach the top this year. However, that enthusiasm didn’t last long, as Walker’s personality shifted as we got closer to the top. We were no longer joking or even talking. The hike was very silent the last part. Occasionally I would bark up from the back, “You ok up there?” Walker would nod or shout back, “Better than back there.”, but his tone wasn’t as enthusiastic as it once was.

Finally, after hiking all day we reached the summit. A beautiful expanse stretched out before us. Patches of evergreen and smaller clusters of mountains decorated the earth, pushing up to the horizon. A view reserved only for the birds as we looked down over the trail we just climbed as well as small puffs of smoke from the scattered homesteads peppered around the mountainsides. It was moments like these that made hiking worth it. Getting the view that you would only usually see on the cover of a magazine while waiting in line at the store truly humbles me and demonstrates how small I am in this world. Small, but still experienced enough to appreciate the beauty before me. I look over to my friend to see how he is enjoying the view only to see him quietly sobbing to himself, stifling his cries so I wouldn’t hear him.

I walked over and put my arm around him, “Hey, what’s wrong mate? I sometimes get misty eyed when we reach the summit of our hikes too, but it can’t be that good! We have seen so many.” Walker wiped the tears away hurriedly, trying to hide his embarrassment. “What? No, no it isn’t that. It’s…” He trailed off and left his sentence hanging in the air. “…it’s just what? True beauty? Something you will always cherish? A newfound appreciation for your friend who hikes up and down this mountain with you?” I asked playfully trying to cheer him up. He wiped the rest of his tears away and looked me in the eyes with a somber expression. It was the kind of expression where the person already has said this a million times in their own head but was struggling to say it out loud, “Brad, I am dying.”

I didn’t take his words seriously when he first said them, so I laughed it off, “What? You are dying? Of what? Is Julie slowly poisoning you? Cause if so, then maybe you should cook dinner more often!” He didn’t laugh, he kept staring at me with the same somber face. Almost like he was patiently waiting for me to grasp what he was saying. My smile faded as the seriousness of his words washed over me. “You are dying?” He nodded a soft nod and tried mustering up a smile. “From what?” “Cancer…Stage 4… in my colon…doctor said I have three more months.”

My mind was still playing tricks on me, as I kept trying to make light of the situation with a joke or a quip, avoiding the reality in front of my face. I had to sit down. Like myself only a few moments ago, he came next to me, sat down and put his arm around my shoulders. “I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you this sooner, but I knew our annual hike was coming up so I figured it would be better to tell you in person.” He said as I put my head between my knees. “What can we do? Isn’t there a way…we could maybe…I mean if we try…” He simply smiled and shook his head, quietly accepting his fate.

We sat looking out at the view for what felt like hours, even though the sun had not moved. “What about Jacob? What about Beth? Who…” He turned and got up, “It isn’t about that, Brad. She knows and Jacob is too young.” “Is that why you got him a new puppy? Some sort of cheap replacement for you?” He chuckled and said, “Yeah I guess so.”

I got to my feet in an angry fit, “How are you so blasé about all of this? It’s like you want to die!” He looked back at me and smiled but with a tear in his eye, “I learned about this a couple months ago. I have had the time to come to terms with this, so I get it that you are angry. I wanted this to be our final walk up the mountain together. One last time I got to take in this view with my best friend.” Tears started rolling down my face. “You call me your best friend, but you couldn’t have told me this sooner?” I said stifling my own tears. “I wanted to, but by the time I found out, there was nothing anybody could do. So, I didn’t want to worry you and have that hanging over your head the entire lead up to when it happens. We might not even have gone on our hike if you knew. I wanted to live the rest of my life the way I want and with the people that matter. I’m sorry I thought this would be the best opportunity.”

Walker looked out to the horizon with an accepting smile, and though I was far from his level of acceptance, I could understand his intentions. Right here, in this moment, there was nothing and everything. The world out over the horizon and our little world filled with grief. There was no hunger to be filled with sandwiches, or tiredness from walking up a mountain, or cancer. It was simply me and Walker, sharing a moment of beauty with my best friend. I couldn’t help but smile as my tears fell, understanding Walker’s point of view a little more.

We spent the better part of afternoon talking and reminiscing. Going over the ordeal and how he found out. About telling Beth and the idea of getting the puppy. Just like on the way up, the conversation flowed like water, if but a little gloomier. “Well, we better go. If we let the sun fall anymore we will be walking in the dark.” Walker said gathering his backpack. “Walking in the dark might not be so bad. I mean you are already dying.” We both laughed at the morbid humor. It was nice to hear his laugh again after all that.

He strapped on his backpack and said, “Brad, you really are…”

The clattering of rocks muffled his scream as the ground beneath him slid down the mountain. Dozens of tons of rock and dirt fell as the place Walker was standing collapsed. I rushed to where he had been standing, stopping myself short in fear I might trigger another one. “WALKER!” I cried out, but no response. I managed to get to the edge and look over the landslides path of destruction. Trees and boulders had been pushed out of the way, exposing their muddy undersides.

“WALKER!” I yelled again. No response. Suddenly, I noticed a small hand from out of the rubble. I slowly made my way down the mountain towards the hand. Throwing caution to the wind, in hopes of saving my friend. I didn’t care if I triggered another one, I was going to save him.

Through some miracle I made it to the mound of dirt with his hand sticking out. As I got closer I could see the skin was bloody and bruised. I didn’t care, as I began digging. “He could be running out of oxygen!” I thought as I clawed handful after handful of dirt from the pile, until I managed to see his hair. I excavated the dirt around his face until his head was free. His face was battered and bloody. Mangled and warped skin turned purple and twisted his face. He wasn’t moving. I didn’t hear him breathing. His body was cold. I reached down to his neck to check for a pulse like I had seen people do in crime shows. Nothing. He was gone.

I checked my phone to call for an ambulance, or a ranger, or anyone to help me. No service. “What should I do?” I thought to myself. “He was just right here.” I sat on the ground and pounded my fists into the dirt. I couldn’t stop crying. “Why! Why did you have to go?” I said to aloud but to no one. “First I think another year of hiking, then you tell me you only have three months, and it turns out that it was only for a few more hours.” I said between sniffles. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye, you jerk!” “What were you going to say? Brad you really are what? Arrogant? Selfish? A stupid brat who is about to lose your best friend?” The tears fell harder as I berated myself. “No, no he isn’t like that.” Trying to calm and reassure myself. “What? What were you going to say? I really am WHAT?” I was screaming into the air now. “Those were your last words. I have to know! I have to know.”

My screams deteriorated to a whisper as I was finally able to hear the silence around me. There were no birds or squirrels, no wind to rustle the leaves. No Walker to crack a joke and relieve this pain.

In the stillness, reasoning came to me, “You are not the type to say stupid things, especially after all that. Whatever you were going to say, it was going to be nice. That’s just who you were.” I looked at the sun setting off in the distance as it was getting darker. “Hold on Walker I won’t be gone long. I won’t leave you up here my friend.” I started down the mountain, alone and broken.    

“I have a long walk back.”