Nature Girl by Jane Kelley

brownies. So instead I say, “Sure, I’ve heard of brownies. I mean, you.”
    She chuckles. “That’s okay. I know what I’m famous for. Of course, that’s just part of what I do. I’m in charge of this whole section. Got to keep the Trail in good shape.”
    “Sure do,” I agree. I figure that listening to her talk for a while is the price I have to pay for a brownie. And if I listen really well, I might get the whole basket.
    “Don’t find many young people who think that. In fact, don’t find any. Most people who care about the Trail are old like me. I hiked the Trail nine times.”
    “Wow! All the way from Georgia to Maine?”
    “That’s right.” She smiles at me like she’s pleased Iknow that. “Most young people never even heard of the Trail. They don’t want to hike anymore. They want to stay indoors in front of their computers. They think a challenge is shooting down imaginary spaceships.”
    “That’s so dumb.” I’m not lying. Those computer games are boring. The only one I like is The Sims.
    Trail Blaze Betty looks really happy that I agree with her. “You know what the trouble is with people today?”
    I shake my head.
    “Nobody knows how to survive in the real world. Nobody even spends time in the real world. Everybody zips around in climate-controlled cars. They scream if they see a bug. Or a bear.”
    “We saw a bear!”
    “You saw Matilda? She’s such a beggar. Can’t leave the brownies in the shelter for the hikers. She just eats them. Or those juvenile delinquents eat them. They like to hang out in my shelter. Didn’t build it to be a party place. Built it for the hikers. Like you. And your family.”
    When she says “family,” I know the questions are coming. I better think of a clever lie, because I know people won’t think it’s a good idea for a kid like me to be hiking alone on the Appalachian Trail. I try to change the subject. “You built the shelter?”
    “Sure did. But sometimes I want to tear it down. Makes me so mad to see those young people drinking and carrying on in there. Don’t kids know there’s better ways to have fun? They think hiking is for old people.Every year when we have our Appalachian Trail meeting, I tell the other members, ‘We’ve got to get the young people off their butts and on the Trail. It won’t matter how many washouts you fix if you can’t get the young people to hike.’”
    “That’s right. Young people should hike.” It seems smart to agree with her. But then she squints suspiciously at me from under the brim of that goofy orange plaid hat.
    Suddenly I have a horrible thought. If my parents found out I’m not with Ginia, then everybody will be searching for a girl and a little white dog. My picture might even have been on the TV news. But I don’t think Trail Blaze Betty has seen me. Anybody who wears shorts like that and hates computer games probably hates TV too.
    She shifts the basket from one hand to the other. “So, where is your family? Didn’t hear any noise. Didn’t know anyone was up here until I saw the dog.”
    “My family, well …”
    I haven’t thought of my clever lie yet! Now I’m worried. If she thinks I’m not a real hiker, but just a runaway lost girl, will she give me a brownie before she calls the police?
    “Are you out here on your own?” she says.
    “No. No. My family is up ahead.”
    “They left you behind?”
    “No! I mean, yes. Well, it’s hard to explain.” I look atArp for inspiration. But he’s no help. He’s lying on the ground right next to Trail Blaze Betty’s feet.
    Then I notice her shoes are these really old hiking boots. They’re so beat-up, they look like she wore them all nine times when she hiked the Trail. So I stop trying to make up a good lie and just start talking. “But you’ll understand because you’re a hiker. You see, my parents are like you. They think it’s really important for kids to hike and do things on their own. Like that boy in the