Our True Love Beginning

Here you go, the first true love background post.

I arrived at the “zombosis land” trailhead as people on the practice hike were passing through.  Appalachian Trail (AT) thru-hikers bestowed the name “zombosis land” on the heavily forested, fairly level stretch of trail on the east side of the Housatonic River.  As an experienced thru-hiker I came prepared with reading material for this nondescript stretch:  the driver’s manual for my brand new Datsun.*

*(For all you young whippersnappers, the old Datsun brand in America became Nissan).

As luck, fate or a bit of intentional timing would have it, Cindy was one of the hikers passing through after I arrived at the trailhead.  I first met Cindy during an introductory meeting for the 1980 AT Expedition led by Warren Doyle. Most of the attendees were University of Connecticut students.  I became involved as an alum of both the University and a previous expedition led by Warren.

The goal behind Warren’s AT Expeditions was to create an “all for one, one for all” experience for the thru-hikers in the group.  Towards that end we had meetings intended for bonding. My first awareness of Cindy came at such a meeting, when the group was sitting in a circle sharing personal anecdotes.  Cindy had an attractive “girl next door” type of beauty, reinforced when she shared with us her love for walking her two dogs.

I do not remember what I shared, or if that left an impression on Cindy, but Cindy left an impression on me.  When she passed through on the trailhead I strategically fell in line right behind her.  She then left another impression on me with her smooth, effortless strides.

I found myself hiking faster than expected. Most of my hiking up until then had been with my eventual best man Savitt, who was 6’2”.  Keeping up with his long strides for thousands of miles partially explains why I became an endurance athlete.  Keeping up with Cindy on a forest footpath was not quite as strenuous, but still delightfully invigorating.  Plus looking at her legs effortlessly striding along was immensely more pleasurable than looking at Savitt’s legs.

As we hiked through “zombosis land” I read my driver’s manual out loud for all the hikers within ear shot.  I did this partially to show off, demonstrating how an experienced long distance hiker like myself could read and hike on a wilderness trail at the same time.  Mostly I read the intricacies of the car’s dashboard and changing a tire to entertain people during a boring stretch of trail.  I read each technical paragraph with dramatic, Shakespearean flair.

At the next practice hike I drove down from New Hampshire with a different gimmick planned.  I arrived ahead of everyone else in the group on a country road that the trail followed for a short stretch.  I set up an orange juice and donut stand and waited for the reaction of the hikers as they came by.

Cindy arrived at the same time as Mike Hinckley.*  Unlike all the other members of the group, Mike took my gimmick seriously, getting out his wallet and asking what I was charging for a cup of orange juice and a donut.  Cindy’s smile indicated she got the joke and, dare I say, liked the jokester.

*(Many years and wilderness trails hence, good ol’ Mike hiked more thousand of miles with both Cindy and me than any other of our long distance friends).

When asked what we first saw in each other, we both draw from our first impressions on those early practice hikes.  I tell people Cindy has the best legs and stride of anyone I ever met.  Cindy told people she enjoyed my humor, a confession that still perplexes our kids to this day.