Week 17
Week 17 Monday-Tuesday Today I arrived in Monson, ME. This is the last town I will visit before I summit Khatadin. I can't believe I am saying that to you all. I can't believe I am here. I can't believe I have walked all the way here from the Southern tip of Virginia. Every time I catch a glimpse of a map hanging in a hostel or visitors center somewhere along the trail, I find myself staring at it in awe. How did I get here? How did I hike over 1,600M? How am I doing all of this eating only tuna packets and CheezeIt dust for nearly every meal? I am currently more than 50M North of Niagara Falls. Montreal and Nova Scotia are my current geographical neighbors. How did I do it? How did I walk so far North? How did I not get injured? How did I not give up? These are the questions that come up in my brain as I hike the trail these days. I have these same types of questions arise sometimes when I have realizations of where I am in my recovery today. How did I get four and a half years of not drinking under my belt? How did I get my feet back on the ground after hanging by such a thin thread for so long? How did I get myself back into college? How did I graduate college sober? How did I do all of this while working one part-time and one full-time job? I have to remind myself daily that the answer to all of these questions is simple. I did it one step at a time. It wasn't a miracle. I had to work hard at it! I put in the work each day and had faith in myself, and regardless of the odds against me, I made it happen. I turned myself into a bright burning ball of resiliency!
Completing this trail is by far one of the hardest things I have ever tried to do. It is both physically and psychologically challenging. The challenge of the trail has so often reminded me of the challenge of finding and sustaining recovery. It is tough. It is rigorous. It is something you must work at every day, rain or shine, whether you feel like it or not. Sometimes I don't feel like hiking. Sometimes I don't feel like keeping all of my recovery commitments for the day, but I do them anyway. It is the only way to get to Khatadin. It is the only way to stay sober. I just have to keep going... and have some fun of course.
This past Monday, Wolfdog and I hopped into a blue van and were shuttled back to the trail by one of the Human Nature Hostel employees named Rock. Rock hiked the trail a few years back and has just published a book about his journey called FlipflopZigZag. His full trail name is actually Rock Ocean because he managed to surf in every state on the trail that had a coast line during his thru hike. I got a hold of a copy of his book while I was staying at the hostel and managed to read a few pages. While skimming through his memoir, I found out another interesting thing he did on his hike. He made a point to do something he called "the Ghandi challenge". This is when you hike for a period of time (say a day or a couple of days) without speaking to anyone. It is a sort of silent meditation if you will. I plan on taking on the Ghandi challenge during my Southern part of this hike and seeing how many days I can maintain the silence. I have always wanted to attend a silent retreat. Perhaps this is my chance to make one of my own.
The hike from Andover to Monson has been a lot more enjoyable than the initial hike into Southern Maine. Don't get me wrong. I am glad to have hiked Southern Maine. It made me a stronger and better hiker and put my perseverance to the test, but I was more than happy to see that terrain roll out behind me and leave it in the dust. Although we still had some 4,000 ft. climbs to tackle, the terrain was a lot calmer in this latter half of the state. Fall is officially here in Maine as well, and the trail has been covered in beautiful foliage.
I remember gazing from the Saddleback Mountains, at the beginning of the week, and seeing all of those rusty oranges and pale yellows everywhere. It was beyond beautiful. The trail is covered with all kinds of yellow, orange, brown, deep crimson and blood red (my favorite) leaves. I officially can't go a whole day without stopping at least once to snap a few photos of the foliage. It makes the trail look so picturesque.
All these colors also make me excited for the trail in the South to come. Traveling South from Virginia in the month of October, I will be catching the foliage season perfectly as I walk through North Carolina, Tennessee, and Georgia to finish up my hike.
After leaving Andover, the next town we made it to was Stratton, ME. We decided to slack pack from this town over our last 4,000 footers before Khatadin (The Bigelow Mountain Range). These mountains were above tree line and gorgeous. We even had a beautiful weather day too.
We slacked with a few buddies we have collected over the past couple of weeks. The Traveling Foxes (aka Bugs and S) are a couple from Australia we have run into several times since Connecticut. They work for a portion of the year and then travel together for the remainder. They told me they chose to hike the AT on a whim. I wasn't surprised by this comment. I admire their passion for adventure and each other.
'Call Me Daddy' is another hiker we have had the pleasure of hiking with over the past week or so. We first me him on our third day of hiking in the Whites, after the Kinnsman Range. He is from Scotland and is the only hiker I know who makes real food out on trail. He packs out steak, eggs, tomatoes, bacon, you name it. He told me he has even packed out and cooked duck breast before. He's a character. Another hiker Wolf dog and I have come across and have sort of taken in as our red headed stepchild tramily member is Young Gandolf. We have run into Young Gandolf on and off since the Whites. He is a super tall college basketball star who hikes at a much faster pace than us short legged folk, but he took a tumble down some cliffs after crossing the Maine border and has been hanging around us ever since.
After finishing up our last climb over the Bigelows, we took on some big mile days. The trail flattens out as it heads up central Maine and goes over several bodies of water. I have seen loons and grouse out the wazoo. I got to swim in a couple of ponds and ford a few rivers as well.
There is one portion of the trail, right before you get to Caratunk, ME where you have to take a boat over the Kennebec River. The official ferry is a small row boat manned by an ATC volunteer. It has a white blaze on it and everything. However, after a 19M day we needed to cross after regular ferry hours in order to make it into town. A local woman named Sheryl took us across in her motorized boat instead. It was a crazy ride because they had just released one of the hydro electric dams on the river. I thought the bow was going under several times.
One week is all I have left. It seems crazy. We will have six days to travel through what is known as the 100 Mile Wilderness. This is the most remote portion of the trail. There are no towns and no where to resupply until you reach Baxter State Park where Khatadin is located. The next time I write to you, I will have reached the Northern Terminus of the AT. Wish me luck!
