That's a Wrap...

So that's it.. my thru hike is officially over.  I summited Katahdin on September 21st. and it was a sunny Class 1 Day!

In short, I continuously hiked 2,181 miles from Springer Mountain in Georgia to Mt. Katahdin in Maine -- over the course of 5 months & 18 days (4/03 - 9/21).

But A LOT happened in those 5 months and 18 days.  More things than I can begin to put into words.  Magical things.  Happy things.  Sad things.  Frustrating things.  Things that have definitely changed me.  I feel confident in saying that I had the experience of a lifetime while thru hiking the AT. And now it's over so quickly -- leaving me scrambling to come to terms with what I just did for the past 5 months and 18 days.  You would think that being on the trail day in and day out, I would have plenty of time to think about it.  Truth is, I spent most of my time entertaining whatever came to my mind, watching where I placed my feet and hands (especially in NH & ME) and not analyzing my thru hike -- because it wasn't over.  I wanted to be in the moment.  But now is the time for reflection.

The beauty of a thru hike is of many things.  Entertaining whatever comes to your mind is quite liberating.  Just being able to think.  Free of any distractions and outside influences.  No television, no music, no games.  If a sad thought came to my mind, I thought about why I was sad... connecting the dots in my past; whether I wanted to or not.  But all of what I mentioned above is geared towards when I was by myself -- whether hiking or alone in my tent.  What about the social aspect of the trail?

The AT has an awesome subculture that has now sucked me in for good.  All the trail angels, the trail magic, the festivals... it's down-right magical.  But you might be asking yourself what's so magical about a bunch of strangers and this mysterious Appalachian Trail?  Magical because it was strangers, yes, strangers, that did nice things for other strangers.  Whether it was a past thru hiker providing trail magic to a prospecting thru hiker, a hiker helping another hiker, or someone that knew very little about the AT but gave me rides in and out of town.  Or the woman in Tyringham, Massachusetts that let me sit on her porch so I could take a break out of the pouring rain.  Or the family that took in nine hikers so we could all wait out hurricane Irene.  There's SO many acts of kindness that I experienced in the past 5 months that it restored my faith in humanity.  And that's another thing that's magical about the AT... you rarely get acts of kindness and the sense of community elsewhere that is similar.

However, there is one thing about a thru hike that bothers me.  It's that I can't comprehend the trail as a whole.  I try to remember back to the start of my journey in Georgia, North Carolina, Tennessee.  It seems so far away -- because it is.  I hiked for almost 6 months!!  Even though I can easily remember what went on in the "early days", I can't fathom how the trail started to change me back then.  When I was in GA, NC, and TN the grand ol' times just rolled along endlessly.  The South was loaded with awesome food, seemingly endless trail magic, lofty mountains, hospitality, Trail Days in Damascus, VA (enough said), and the list goes on.  The South will always have a special place in my heart because, for me, the subculture of the AT is the strongest in the South.  I attribute this to thousands of hikers that start in Georgia and try to successfully thru hike.  As I moved Northward up the trail, the amount of thru hikers were less and less.  Many folks don't make it because of how they're tested.  And it wasn't until the long days in Virginia and the trial and tribulation days in Pennsylvania that I started to be tested.

When I say that I can't comprehend the trail as a whole, it's the people I met (from all over the world), the fun times, the sad times, the mental, physical, and emotional strain.  What did I obtain from it all?  To be honest, I don't have an answer right this instant as to how the trail has changed me for the long run.  As for adjusting to "normal" society since being home for a few days... everything is an overload and I'm sometimes frustrated that things aren't always as simple as just being out on the trail..  Even when I was on the trail and would go into town I would be overwhelmed by the amount of choices in food and beverages.  Now that I'm done my thru hike for good, I'm still overwhelmed but appreciate the amount of variety.

Times were a lot simpler back then..  I remember the days of misery when a simple can of Coke perked me up.  I remember the kindness of strangers leaving drinking water at road crossings when there wasn't any water for miles.  When I think back on my hike, the pain, the suffering, the misery, the loneliness... they're not the first to come to mind.  I mainly remember how goofy we all were, how uniting the trail can be, and how alive I felt.  It amazes me that when I wanted to quit -- there were multiple times -- I remembered the invigorating, strong, and steady wind on top of the balds in the South where you could see for miles in every direction.  I remembered just how far I had come, in distance and in myself.  I remembered the good times with the bad ones...  The breathtaking scenery...  How a bad day could so easily melt away when you looked for the magic in life.  That's why I marched on.  I felt so alive.  I rarely woke up with Maine or Katahdin on my mind.  No.. I took it day by day.  Savoring each memory as it was being made.  The AT made me realize that I should cherish every moment.  -- If life is one continuous journey, then the ups and the downs are a critical part of the experience.  You can gain something from everything.  Even if you're being tested to the breaking point.

For me, this journey was never really about Maine or Katahdin.  No... I wanted to see the nooks and crannies of small town America, tucked away in the mountains.  I wanted to see breath-taking scenery and have an awesome time doing it.  I simply wanted an adventure that reduced life to it's simplest forms.  i.e.  My interactions with people meant a lot more when I was on the trail.  No one had any hidden agendas.  It was just good ol' fashioned conversation and interaction.  Now that it's all over, I miss it.  I really do.  Just the fact that I was only # 372 out of thousands that tried to reach Katahdin, ME from Springer Mt., GA shows the difficulty of this journey.  My friends on the trail certainly made each day more memorable.  And aside from how simple life is on the trail, I'll miss my friends just as much.

Nonetheless, it was the experience of a lifetime.

KATAHDIN.  Northern terminus of the AT.  Georgia to Maine.

Ford It!

Well here I am in Stratton, ME! Officially less than 200 miles!! The past few days have been, honestly, miserable. It has rained the better part of the past 3 days and everything I have is moist. Some of the best views in Maine (the Saddlebacks and Crocker) were socked in with blowing rain that had some sleet mixed in... yes, SLEET. It's turned noticeably cooler the past few days.. In turn, the fall colors are starting to come out but will be more noticeable once I cross over Bigelow and the elevations lower further north... turning the mostly the coniferous trees into deciduous. But let me go back to the recent weather.. Maine is known for its rugged terrain and wilderness experience. What better way to fully indulge in the wilderness experience by having to ford ''streams'' and rivers! The waterways here in Maine have been high since Irene blew through and the daily rain paired with severe thunderstorms have kept them high -- so high that the water has actually washed away highway bridges!! So as you can imagine the smallest of streams are overflowing; which has made fording them an interesting challenge! In dry weather, you would take your shoes off and ford with your camp shoes, but the trail has literally been a stream with soupy mud holes as deep as my mid-calf. All day long my feet are wet with cold squishy socks. Therefore, for better traction and stability, I just keep my trail runners on while fording (it gets all the mud out, plus they look brand new afterward!). The worst ford was a little past my waist. This didn't make me too uncomfortable as the current wasn't too strong but some other crossings have had stronger current but slightly lower water levels. Why don't they build bridges?! Turns out that the ice on the streams and rivers gets so high in wintertime that it wipes out the bridges that were once there... Harsh environment, eh? Next stop is the infamous trail town, Monson!! Then it's into the 100 mile wilderness, which comes to an end at the base of Katahdin!!!! Still have some work to put in, however...

The bootlegged 2,000 mile marker (which was in the wrong spot...)

Welcome to MAINE!

That's right!  I'm in Maine!  My final state.  The home stretch.  The toughest terrain I've seen yet.  There shall be no coasting to the finish line...

MAINE!  It's rugged.  It's tough.  It's... so different.

Where to begin??  When I crossed into Maine it was almost surreal.  Since starting in Georgia on April 3rd, I've been telling everyone that has asked that I'm going to Maine.  And now I'm here.  With only 233 miles left, I'm chomping at the bit.  Truth be told, I'm ready to be done.  Ready to start some new things in life and move on with some others...  But I'm getting ahead of myself... Must finish the trail first!!  Finish what you start.
After waiting out hurricane Irene with four 'zero days', I hit the trail feeling refreshed yet still tired.  Is this possible?!  Anyway, the damage from the storm was present on the trail.  The shear power of water is just amazing.  The trail was heavily eroded, since the trail acts as a stream in heavy rain, some rock steps washed out and blow-downs were everywhere! I'm glad I wasn't in the woods during the storm!

The first day out of Gorham, NH, where I had left off, was fairly easy and I managed a 17 mile day.  But when I crossed into Maine the next day, Maine would flex it's rugged and tough muscles.  The Mahoosucs made me long for the Whites of New Hampshire.  I don't know what it was about the Mahoosucs... but that section had some of the most steep, slick, and energy-draining terrain I've seen in 1,900 miles.  Energy-draining = ravenous appetite.  Traversing roots, rocks, rock slabs, boulders the size of small homes and SUVs, mud holes, high streams, etc. ... it takes it out of ya!  In fact, I literally had 1/4 of a Nutella jar and one pasta side dinner left in my food bag when I arrived in Andover.  That's the lowest my food bag has been on this entire hike!!

So, I've established that Maine is difficult.  However, I don't really mind... The first of the leaves are starting to turn and a few early leaves have made it to the ground in red, orange, and yellow colors.  The lakes and ponds are simply amazing.  The shear rugged terrain and the very rural towns are something new as well.  While in Andover, locals rode ATVs and tractors down the street in the stoplight absent town.

I'm looking to finish between Sept. 20-25th.  Obviously, it's still hard to tell exactly my finish date until I arrive in Monson.  Like I mentioned above, I'm excited to finish but am sad that my hike is starting to dwindle to a close.  So many friends and memories have been made. It's hard to imagine that this [ridiculous] lifestyle will be over before I know it!  I mean, really, hiking for 6 months?!  Geez...

MAINE -- It's "the way life should be"