What’s in a name?

Whats in a name? that which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet…I hesitate to use Bill’s quote here, mainly because I live in a small space with two not so small dogs.

It doth not do me well
to bring up the sense of smell

but what is in a name?
Wether it be Shakespearre asking the question, or the ancient Greeks, my answer is the same.

I don’t know.
I have gone by several throughout the years, when I was really young I am told that I could not pronounce my name, and would answer the equivalent of Beefwaw. Despite my siblings efforts, it didn’t stick.

Most of my adult life I went by either my rank, or just Irwin. Once I retired from the Army in 2018 I had hopes that no-one called me either again.

The ancienmt Greeks believed the name Christopher meant one carrying Christ in their heart, and while that applies,
I cant really say that my parents had that kind, or any kind foresight. It is a good name, just not one that I have gone by as an adult.

Shortly after retiring I started walking more and more, at first as a way to just keep moving, but soon after I realized the mental health benefits of those long walks. I found myself walking for hours each day and looking for paths that would allow me to wander further without having to turn around. I was on one of these walks when I remembered an old print add for a pizza place, there was a dude sitting on a bench, the woods filled the background, backpack and gear tossed next to the bench, a phone booth and a pizza box. The caption read something like “man orders pizza while hiking on the Appalachian trail “. I had no clue the trail existed but two YouTube videos later I was convinced that I was going to start right away. A couple web searches assured me that late fall was a terrible time to start. I would have to wait until at least March.

March 16, 2019 to be precise. During the first two months that followed the decision to walk I started fevereishly learning everything I could about the A.T. I would watch other people recant their experiences, their gear reviews, their trail names.

Wait, what, trail names?

What is a trail name?

It is a thing, wether on all long trails or not I do not know, but on the Appalachian trail everyone gets a trail name. Most videos had people proudly going by these odd names. I had no issues with the hiking, lack of comfort and carrying everything but this trail name subject was starting to give me a bit of angst. I would hear these stories from people with trail names like “Sir poopsalot” or something resulting from some silly and often embarrassing action they did.

I briefly considered cheating and giving myself a trail name before I left, some people do I suppose, but in the end decided to just let the trail figure it out.

The first week on the trail was pretty crowded, several thousand people set out each year to complete this trek or portions of it. Those same people congregate around the shelters each night in the Georgia Mountains, trail names are are thrown around loosely, those receiving laughs seem to stick.

Each day I tried to make sure I didnt do anything too silly or embarrassing, I didn’t want to have to go by a name like “sadface” or “bent pole”, I would be ok with something apt like “Sir Snacksalot” or something else like that but I knew I didn’t want to have to tell the name story the entire path North.

I also knew that I didn’t want it to be any reference towards my military career. No offense to anyone named “old Sarge” or the like. For me it was simple. I am proud of and enjoyed my time in the Army, and I really enjoy not being in the Army now.

There was a night early on where I thought for sure the name was sealed. It was close to hiker midnight (9:00pm) which means that almost instantly everyone disappears into their sleeping bags. My tent was set up outside the shelter and I was enjoying those few moments between the time where the hikers lay down and before the snoring begins.

During one of those few moments absolute peace and silence, as the last of the tent and sleeping bag zippers are heard, I was standing there staring off into the dark sky, and hopefully emptying my bladder for the last time before morning.

I must have been pissing on a hollow rock or something, because the sound amplified, and loudly. I thought for sure I was doomed to explain some bladder themed name as I trek North. I would be forced to do a bad Hank Hill impression for the next six months.

in the end it was an unlikely thru-hiker named “Mama Squirrel” that gave me my trail name. She was older than most of the hikers and like me, had little experience hiking. That did not stop her from getting out there and hiking up and down that trail. She was an inspiration each time I saw her.

She received her name do to the stuffed squirrel she carried with her. She was the one who dubbed me with the name of “Carver” after I hastily carved a souvenir for a friend.

I remember disliking the trail name at first, and immediately seeing the disappointmnet in her face. she visibly sighed and I immediately embraced the name. I only really carved a couple of things during the trail, but to every one else it seemed to fit.

in fact, most of those that I call friends currently, know me as Carver.

My Thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail will go down as one of the greatest chapters in an already amazing life, one that is still paying dividends years later. No doubt that there may be a few more mentions.

I say all of that to say this.

My name is Carver, and these are my stories.