Grouser Road

After renovating an old farmhouse and retiring in 2024, I realized that I could literally walk, God willing, out my front door on the Appalachian Trail to my sister’s house in Norwich, Vermont. And so began a plan. After a long process of conditioning and gear selection I started my journey on September 3. While on trail, a memory from high school in 1977 took hold and wouldn’t let go.

It’s Saturday and we arrive at 8 a.m. for cross country practice. We are running a 13-mile route today. It must be October or Coach wouldn’t have chosen a run this long. We really don’t need to be running these kind of distances, and close friend Shoey and I feign disapproval. Coach probably picked it because he wanted to run it; it was a beautiful autumn morning and a gift.

We run down Roosevelt Ave., to Main Street, to the Causeway and Weston Road. Up the hill on the long narrow road, Shoey is just ahead and I can see teammate Lurch in the distance. We go through Colonial Park, left on Amwell, and right on an old road.

Grouser Road was a different place back then. Old houses, farm houses, were the only ones there. I imagine that folks too old to farm, but who remembered the old times were milling about, tending to their ancient gardens. Tall flowers and old wooden fences share their joy.

I dreamed of places like this. I still do. And I wondered then if anyone would ever want to spend a life in a place like this, with me.

We turn onto Canal Road toward East Millstone and back toward the park. Lurch is out of sight.

I walk the trail now like I ran on that day. Gliding through cool air, I see and feel so much but it comes too fast and I have to let it all go. I smell the earth, encourage my steps and honor my breath. These memories are going somewhere. Alone and together, I am lost in dreams.

I didn’t realize then that there were people, proud of my progress, my success, who would be sad if I failed. I see them now, and keep going so we can all win.

I miss Shoey. He died in 2021 just months after his cancer diagnosis. He probably would have been on the trail with me. And Lurch, he remains out of sight and I doubt I will ever catch him.

Back at the locker room we celebrate the accomplishment with groans and laughs before heading to the shower. In two hours we will return for marching band and the halftime show.

And the hike? I arrived in Vermont just in time for my sister’s wedding anniversary party on October 5. After cheers and hugs I was promptly directed to the shower.

Horberg lives with his wife Risa and dog Coqui in Warwick, NY.