Etiquette

At first I thought the “class of 2014” PCTers were an unusually polite bunch, and perhaps they are, but I discovered from chatting with Watermelon (a guy from Amsterdam), Ridgerunner (a gal from Virginia) and a man called DC that there is a published trail etiquette somewhere. Unfortunately, my own trail etiquette opposes what is published.

I believe the uphill hiker should make way for the downhill hiker; multiple hikers should make way for a single hiker. My etiquette derives from the most important principle governing living systems, the conservation of energy. The stopping of momentum for the downhill hiker is greater, as is the wait for the uphill hiker to pass. Likewise the single hiker must wait longer for a group to pass than vice-versa.

I can see the opposite point of view. An important principle for human behavior is empathy. The downhill hiker empathizes with the folks struggling uphill and pulls over. Perhaps the best principle after all is simply practicality. Whichever hiker reaches a convenient spot to pull over first does so, similar to what motorists would do.

There is a different bit of etiquette, if I might use that word for it, much harder for me to resolve out here. What is the proper thing to say to Cindy about her Alzheimer’s? The answere may not be what I used to think.

I was against the doctor telling Cindy she had Alzheimer’s in the first place, thinking I might maintain the pretense she might be cured of her mental impairments. Yet by uncovering the truth we were able to move ahead in a positive direction, putting together the bucket list that brings us here on the PCT. In the weeks after learning Cindy would rummage through the attic trying to sort out which possessions should go to which children when she passes in almost a cheerful manner. She got down occasionally when she could not do something, but she also got down about that when she didn’t know it was Alzheimer’s.

Her acceptance of her disability extended to the willingness to share her story about pursuing her dream of finishing the Triple Crown, knowing this might inspire others. Yet two changes have occurred out here. The first was not wanting to tell thru-hikers we met in passing about her disability, thinking they would not know otherwise. That was true enough for hikers passing by, who would guess Cindy to be merely shy.

A couple days ago there was a new development. Mike now has joined us for a couple months. He and his girlfriend Jill have been wonderful to Cindy. I guessed they must have read my blog when they worked with Cindy to help them set up their tent. Yet they were a little too kind.

Charissa and I tease Cindy all the time, as family members are inclined to do. Mike and Jill treated Cindy with kind deference … as if something might be wrong with her. Cindy actually in tears about this. I explained in their defense: “Well they know you have Alzheimer’s.”

“But I don’t!” was her adamant reply.

I was stunned. I blurted out, perhaps inappropriately: “You were diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.” Then quickly added: “But perhaps you are getting better.”

Since then Cindy has had her up and downs, as always, but her “downs” appear to be unprovoked. I wonder if I lodged a thought in her head that was better left out. This is where I am now at a loss. Having come to terms that knowing the truth about her affliction was the best thing, I now wonder if I can, and should, go back to the pretense that she has something curable.

Now deciding which hiker should let the other pass seems a rather trivial matter.