The Appalachian Trail: A Narrative Analysis

The Appalachian Trail and a category four hurricane are two things that do not mix well together. This is the last thing any hiker would want to be caught up in. Thirty miles from civilization, there’s nothing but wet ground and an angry sky.
Trees snapping, lightning cracking, and thunder roaring. A situation where bears cower away and hikers should do likewise. The smell of pine sap floods the woods. Trees compete with the winds as almost a test of strength. Yet literally falling short every second.
Shelter is nowhere to be found and if so would not provide much safety. Only deep arrogance could commit a fool to ignore all the warning signs of local hikers and the alarming birth pains of Mother Nature before the storm. Day becomes dark as
A rock that had been hollowed out by erosion, just perfect for two hikers. The first hiker finally took a look at the broken leg. Things weren’t looking too good. A huge gash with black and blue all around. He reaches into his pack to find all of the things he packed soaked. There was no good way of cleaning up this wound and keeping pressure on it. The man was already sweating with a fever which was a sure sign of infection. This was bad news.
They had to keep moving in order to get him to some sort of help before it was too late. So they got up and kept moving. It wasn’t easy carrying both packs and helping the injured man along the way. Finally, a sign. Five miles to a nearby town. Hopefully, the injured man could make it through that long haul.
They kept walking and walking. Moving slower the further they got. The injured hiker collapsed and he was out cold. He must have lost too much blood. There was no way that the man could carry him the rest of the way. He had to leave him behind, go find help, and come back for him.
Now sprinting through the woods the man finally makes it to town and sees a nearby clinic. He rushes in and demands help. They rush over right away, jump into a car, and go to the nearest park ranger’s