Mile 625

Wood’s Hole is an unassuming organic farm hostel built around an 1880 American Chestnut log cabin on the outskirts of nowhere or conveniently trail adjacent, depending on your mode of transportation. If the Appalachian Trail is an artery, Woods Hole would be the heart. The term “hostel” does not adequately describe this magical hiker haven. It is a sanctuary. It is a community. It is a vortex. At the center of this microcosm is a shining star of a human being named Neville.

On arrival at Wood’s Hole, Misfit was greeted by retired AT hikers volunteering their time to run the various operations. Hikers lounge in the shade of an ancient but delightful porch in wooden rocking chairs. Guests not just visit but breathe life into the home as they volunteer with dinner preparations, assist in the garden, or dust the high shelves and various corners. A constant supply of sourdough bread is produced within the oven of the humble wood and cast iron kitchen. The shelves overflow with homemade preserves, canned veggies from the garden, and mason jars of dried goods. Many hands make the diverse dinner prep light and timely. The hikers and staff eat together around a farmhouse table after giving thanks for their fortunes of the day. Their breakfast and dinner ingredients come fresh or canned from the organic garden that decorates the front and side yards. As with the meal preparation, volunteers help clean up while others enjoy a chocolate chip cookie in a rocker or hammock. Hikers tend to their chores and coordinate plans for their upcoming miles while the staff works diligently to ensure everyone’s comfort. It is more a living, breathing community than a place simply to sleep off a long hike. Suffice it to say; Misfit immediately fell in love with this little corner of the universe.

With that in mind, it should come as no surprise that when Neville, facing a challenging week ahead, asked Misfit to work-for-stay on the evening of her second day, Misfit accepted without hesitation. Conversely, Misfit’s response came so quickly that it surprised… well… both women for slightly different reasons.

Hikers will often request to do a work-for-stay if they can’t afford a room or otherwise have to stay longer than their budget allows. However, it is rare for that request to flow in the other direction. Most hikers would perish the thought of derailing their trek, and therefore most would say no to such a proposal. Misfit, true to her name, was different from most hikers. She had been hiking faster than anticipated and was well ahead of schedule. Safe in that knowledge, being invited to remain a little longer felt like a gift from the universe, and Misfit never argued with the universe.

In exchange for humble accommodations, three square meals, and all the sourdough bread she could eat, Misfit joined the ranks of Scotsman, Right-Foot, Nick, Bruno, and of course, Neville. They were a rag-tag assembly of hikers, travelers, and friends committed to keeping the operation afloat. Each is unique and kind. Each is a non-conformist in their own way. So Misfit felt right at home.

She agreed to stay the additional fortnight, allowing for her delayed resupply shipment to arrive, and offer whatever assistance they requested. Misfit was no longer simply hiking the trail but embracing the journey.