By Deborah Lynn Thompson
From Fall 2009 Footprint

I’d been invited to walk the “I Did A Hike” fundraiser put on by the North Florida Trail Blazers Chapter. Hearing about the geographical treasures I’d be seeing: Big Shoals Rapids, Robinson Branch Falls, Bell Springs, Waldron’s Landing’s Walking Man Bridge and Little Shoals sparked my interest.

Born and raised in Florida, I’ve always been dazzled by the mystique and beauty of the Suwannee River, but I’d never seen rapids or water falls, Bell Springs or foot bridges along the river. The idea of spending the day hiking along the picturesque Suwannee River enchanted me.

But how? I have a spinal cord injury. From being paralyzed, unable to hold my head up or to move my left side, I’ve re-learned to walk, but not like I used to and seven miles is a huge distance for me. I wondered if I could possibly even do it. I’d been livin’ in Alaska when I got injured and returned to Florida because of no longer being able to tolerate freezing weather. My body cinches up, making it difficult to walk or move when cold.

February 7, 2009, the morning of the hike, the Florida sun rose with a freezing chill, 24 degrees. I layered up clothing to keep warm in the sharp weather, packed a lunch and water bottle and set off. The entire drive, from Keystone Heights to the Suwannee River, I felt uncertain about my decision. Can I do this?

Hesitantly, I got outta the jeep and signed in, donating $15.00 towards the fundraiser for the Florida Trail Association. I have always loved the Florida Trail and remembered blazing a section when I’d been a young Girl Scout living in Jacksonville. Here I would hike on it after so many years.

Feeling unsure and lacking confidence, we herded into a shuttle that took us down Spradley Road to the start of the trail. Special permission to trek across private property allowed us to pass.

When we started this cold sunny morning, with hat, mittens and sweaters, a sense of relief and happiness came over me when I ran into hiking buddies whom I’d toddled with before on the Ravine Trail in Goldhead State Park. Clinging to a hiking stick, with a tottering gait, I felt all would be okay. I told them, “I know I can walk three miles… I think I can do five miles in one day, but seven miles; I have no idea.”

I would give it my all, push to my limits and try my very best to make it to the other side, for I know and believe that, “Determination is the key to success.” I would try.

After a long and cold first mile, I finally thawed out enough to start shedding layers. With the great fortune of Alton’s kindness, his pack slowly filled with all the woolies and extra warm clothing that I had started with. I didn’t want to burden anyone, but I also knew that I didn’t have strength to carry extra weight. 

Since I heard we’d be hiking along the river most of the day, I brought an empty filter bottle to drink directly outa the river, avoiding the heaviness of water. Being disabled, dipping into the river for a drink proved quite challenging; again my hiking companion went the extra mile and procured cool fresh water.

Lovelier than I could’ve ever imagined, my eyes saw stunning and striking views of the Suwannee River that I would never have gotten to behold if I had not come. I walked under a bridge of pine tree roots hanging over the trail. I saw huge areas of rapids, and large hollowed out trees, birds and bugs, springs and waterfalls. I heard quiet and flowing waters, birds singing and friendly voices. I smelt the freshness of cold dew evaporating into sunny leaves, the light sweet fragrances of wildflowers and the soothing scent of pine needle beds. The taste of the Suwannee’s tannin waters cooled and quenched my thirst. I felt the pain, tiredness and fatigue that come with spinal cord injury, and at the same time caressed an insurmountable joy, pleasure and thrill that pulsated inside me pushing me forward.

At mile five, a picnic table sat perched over an exquisite view of the river. I crawled atop and sprawled flat out on my back. I couldn’t move another inch. I borrowed a phone and called my Mom in Alaska and my Dad in Jacksonville while spread out on this table. With laughter in my voice, I announced, “Mama, Daddy, I’m on the Suwannee River! I just hiked five miles! Can you believe it? I’m overlookin’ the river right now; it’s gorgeous… I’m on a seven-mile hike… I can’t move another inch… I hurt everywhere! But in a minute, I’m gonna git up an’ try an’ finish this trail. I don’t know if I can, but I’m gonna try.”

Tears of joy fell from my eyes. “I love ya’ll… I’m so excited…I can’t believe I just walked five miles!”

We got up; four of us hiking together; the very last on the trail. My companions had long since taken my pack with food in it and made my load as light as possible. With only two miles to go, I pushed forward with all I had. Once we made it to the final bridge, with the finish line in sight, the others drifted ahead. With my left foot dragging from pure exhaustion, I exerted all the energy I had and slowly trudged forward. I ached to sit down. Each step hurt, but the goal was in reach. I would make it.

At snails pace, I walked across the finish line. Janie and the others hooped and hollered, “You did it Deborah! You did it! Congratulations!” They immediately provided me with a chair and a drink of water. They continued, “Congratulations Deborah! You just hiked 8.4 miles! Three GPS’s taken on the trail measured the distance at 8.4 miles.”

I couldn’t believe it. I sat there in awe, in sheer glory…incredible!

Exhilarated, excited and elated, achievement tickled my body. Animated high spirits of happiness, joy and delight aroused my senses. I experienced similar sensations when I used to run marathons and couldn’t walk for the next three days, but that heightened sense of being alive after conquering the impossible kept me intoxicated for weeks. In Alaska there’s a song called, “I did, I did, I did the Iditirod Trail.” Here I can say, “I did, I did, I did the I-Did-A-Hike Trail!”

One hundred and five hikers completed the hike that day, raising $1,500.00 for the Florida Trail Association. Hope ya’ll will join us next year so you can say; “I did the I-Did-A-Hike Trail.”

The 2010 hike is scheduled for February 6.  Click here for more information.