Part 1

"Taking a break from all your worries sure would help a lot, wouldn't you like to get away? Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name and they're always glad you came." You may remember that those are the first few lines from the theme song of the television show Cheers. Before there was Netflix, Hulu, or Prime Video, there was just ABC, CBS, and NBC. This story is a look back to a much simpler time than what we are experiencing today. The majority of the country is in self-isolation in one form or another as a serious pandemic looms. Earth Day is upon us and we are generally limited to being indoors. Fittingly, I can't help but reminisce about past outdoor adventures I've had with new friends over the past few years. Although we are physically limited and unable to enjoy the outdoors as we are accustomed to, our imaginations have no such limits. The adventures we experience in life can create lasting memories— memories for us to recall at times like these.

I'm taking a break from all my worries to tell you about a time when I went on an outdoor adventure where no one knew my name and we were not yet sure if we were glad we came. The date was Thursday, April 21, 2016, leading up to Earth Day weekend. Does that date ring a bell? That was the day that music legend Prince passed away from what we would later learn to be an accidental overdose. That weekend will stick with me for a long time but not just for the Prince story but for what would take place the following few days with eleven Outdoor Afros from Atlanta.

Before I begin, every great memory shared deserves a little bit of context and an informative backstory. I had just finished backpacking the Appalachian Trail (AT). That backpacking trip was my big leap back into the wild after taking an extended break for college, career, and family. It was an excellent experience that reminded me of how much the outdoors can rejuvenate the body and soul. However, there was one oddity that stood out to me. After almost a week on the AT, I didn't cross paths with a single person of color. That isn't a problem on its own because naturally, people tend to gravitate to those who have shared experiences. But after a while, you begin to wonder, where is this vast wilderness 'keeping' all of its melanin enriched enthusiasts? I knew that I could not be the only person of color on the planet who enjoys backpacking the Smokies in the fall. My next mission would be to find my lost brethren.

When I returned to civilization, I began my search and long story short, I found them. I mean, they weren't lost, and neither was I, but we just hadn't been formally introduced. That was not until I met Wandi. An energetic and free-spirited Outdoor Afro Atlanta leader. I found one of the group’s meetup events and decided to join them for a group hike. It was on this hike that I became aware that Wandi was planning a backpacking trip to Cumberland Island with Outdoor Afro. Mission accomplished. I had just found what I was looking for, and the next adventure would start in just a few short weeks.

I arrived in St. Mary's, Georgia, on the day of Prince's passing. After catching up on the news, I had to switch my focus to making sure I had all my gear compactly and securely packed into a single backpack. Packing for a backpacking trip can be a bit stressful. If it’s not in your pack when you reach the end of your journey, you are out of luck. After a busy Thursday evening, it’s now Friday morning and the official start of this Outdoor Afro Atlanta adventure. A few of us grab an excellent breakfast at a small local diner and chat a little about what lies ahead. Just as Wandi slips us the obligatory 'Adventure Waiver,' should we be maimed or killed on her watch. As we moved to the ferry station for Cumberland Island, my fellow adventurers start to arrive. I could not help but recall that just a few months prior; I was wondering where my fellow backpackers of color are? Soon we had our team. Ranging from teenager to retiree and from beginner to seasoned. We were eleven individual melanin enriched souls ranging in origin from Eritrea to California.

Once we land on the Island, a Park Ranger is waiting to give us a historical overview of the Island and an in-depth tour of Sea Camp. After a few hours of team building and getting the ‘tourist’ view of the Island, it was time to turn up the dial on the adventure control box. Wandi usually sets it at 10, until the batteries run out. We have over three miles of hiking with fully loaded packs still ahead of us. With the added challenge of taking as much fresh water as we could because the water sources where we were going would need to be purified for drinking.

Our sunny day is fading. Demeanors begin to shift from laidback and relaxed to purposefully driven to set up camp before dark. The average walking pace is 3 miles per hour on level unobstructed terrain. We had more than three miles of backcountry trails to cover with packs and one airport luggage cart (with tiny wheels). A race against time and a severe thunderstorm had just started. The problem is, we didn’t know we were in a race….at least not yet.

What happened in the next couple of hours and over the next few days would forge lasting and expanding friendships for years to come. Go Read Part 2 to find out who won the race and how three explorers failed to find the ocean, on an island.