Six months ago if you were to ask me what was good for my soul I could tell you with full certainty. I would walk you through my different contingency plans for “soul healing”. Now as I’m in an entirely new city, it’s harder to figure out what to do.
My fail-safe solution when I’m feeling down is to venture down Walker Way and enter my favorite simple hiking trail. This trail provides endless avenues of possibility. Leading to my best friend's house, my elementary school, the reservoir near my house, the University of Delaware, and a nearby state park.
Starting on this trail I was able to walk to my elementary school. Before I started Kindergarten my dad, an avid trail runner, discovered a road less taken by that connected to the playground of Maclary Elementary. The night before my 1st day, my parents led the way to the playground and pushed me on the swings as we walked through the logistics of my 1st day and navigating the bus. Throughout my time at Maclary, my parents often walked me to school on that same path. I loved the days when it was nice enough to trek to school, it felt like an adventure straight out of Ramona and Beezus. This walk to school was sometimes orchestrated by my mother who realized that my best friend Rebecca’s house also connected to these woods.
Becca has been my best friend and the first person I turn to since I was six years old. During elementary school, we were in the same Girl Scout troop, same class, and played for the same softball league. When middle school came we went to different schools and I quit softball, but that didn’t break our bond. I replaced softball with swim team to be with Becca. We spent our mornings diving headfirst into freezing water, and our nights sleeping at each other's houses. Our friendship has always been filled with childlike wonder and companionship, but at age 14 I think we started to realize the true nature of our friendship. Quarantine was a difficult time for everyone, but I had Becca by my side. I spent March-May of 2020 quarantining in upstate New York, but when I came home to Delaware, the first person I saw (socially distanced) was Becca. We went on a walk. We took the same trail outside of our houses, and met at the reservoir, a 1 ½ mile circular trail that overlooks Newark, Delaware.
The summer of 2022.
This was the summer we started truly feeling like teenagers. We finished sophomore year, eager to be upperclassmen at our respective schools, and counted down the days until we earned our full licenses. During those times when we couldn’t drive but wanted to hang out, we would meet in the woods. We’d lug our overnight bags to the other’s house until we finally started leaving things at the other's house. This was the summer I experienced my first heartbreak. Becca was there for all of it. This was also when we realized the true magnitude of trails accessible at our fingertips. We walked for miles after swim practice and the whole time she listened to me as I coped with the end of my first relationship.
This cemented our walks as one of our many rituals. Anytime the weather was nice enough we’d simply text each other, “reservoir walk?” We bring our dogs and laugh until our stomachs hurt. We look at the middle-aged moms walking with their ankle weights and exchange a knowing glance, understanding that will be us in 25 years.
Now I’m in Pittsburgh, and experiencing all of the mood swings associated with freshman year. In the cold of February, I can’t bring myself to walk outside or explore Schenley Park. But I know I have Becca, my beautiful best friend I can always call. All roads lead back to her.
Becca