“Would You Like a Cup of Tea?”

During a hike along Newfoundland’s East Coast Trail, I learned the value of small acts of kindness

- Jennifer Knoch

THE YEAR I TURNED 30, my friend Erin and I decided to hike part of Newfoundland’s East Coast Trail—215 kilometres between Cappahayden and St. John’s. We’d been dazzled by Wild, Cheryl Strayed’s memoir of her 1,770-kilometre solo hike on the Pacific Crest Trail.

Neither of us had gone on a hiking trip longer than five days and now we were in for 14, but we were excited. Nature! Strength! Perseverance! Character! Our hike would end up giving me all of those things in cruel abundance, but there was one take-home I didn’t anticipate: proof of the astonishing kindness of strangers.

AS A SHY WOMAN schooled in the perils of stranger danger, I’m not one to open up to people I don’t know. In Toronto, I don’t chit-chat with my seatmate on the subway or in a grocery line, and I certainly don’t ask for help unless I’m desperate. But on this hike I had to learn new ways to cope.

Over our first two days we covered less than 30 kilometers, most of it in the rain. What had been a gentle mist when we started evolved into a downpour by the second day. Nothing dried overnight, everything was sodden. The trails were rugged, with muddy patches so deep that stepping in the wrong place meant mud to mid-calf—which is to say over and into your boots. We squelched with every step.