Date: 2007-08-02
From: Katahdin Stream Campground, Birches Campsite

To: Katahdin (Baxter Peak) (5,268') The End
Miles today: 5.2
Weather: clear sky

Mount Katahdin. The Big K. The end of the road for the AT. 2174 trail miles. Waking up, it was hard to believe this would be the last time on this multi-month trip hearing the swooshing sound of the sleeping bag getting crammed into the stuff sack. Or the clickity-clack of the tent poles being folded. Or putting on dirty socks and a smelly t-shirt. Walking through Maine's relatively flat "100 mile wilderness", this 5268 ft peak loomed ahead of us like a dreaded final exam we'd been preparing months to take. My hiking companion friends of the past couple weeks (Tapper, Cottontop, and Caterpillar) were as anxious as I was to start this final day. It is hard to describe how fast and strong friendship bonds can develop while enduring the challenges of long distance hiking. Our little foursome, though only hiking together for the last leg of the journey, were no exception. We'd been through a lot together in Maine, and were as excited as little kids to finally "get up K." The hike itself was pretty straightforward. First, the mile of flat trail walking along Katahdin stream. Then, the inevitable rocky, steep, and exposed climb up to the ridge above treeline before the last slightly less harrowing mile of ridgewalking to Baxter peak. Normally, this would be a grueling day hike. But, with as many miles as we'd come and the adrenaline rush of the last day, the top seemed to arrive before the pain of the climb set in. Caterpillar and Cottontop, purists to the end, carried their full packs while Tapper carried about a half filled pack. I, who obviously have no honor, borrowed a daypack from the ranger station filled with only a couple snacks and a half liter of water. So, with only carrying about a 3 pound pack and ignoring the "you dirty slackpacker" jests from the others, I was able to quickly take the lead and scurry up the 4000+ ft gain in a little over 2 1/2 hours. Reaching that last Northern Terminus sign of which I had only previously seen in pictures was supposed to be a dramatic and special moment. Instead, getting there in the fog and touching the sign alone, I felt nothing. Anticlimactic. There were no fireworks or angels singing or falling down and kissing the ground celebrating the months of hiking joys and agonies in a single moment. Just a weird and icky feeling in the pit of my stomach that said the hike was over. Not knowing what to do exactly, I simply sat down on a nearby rock and ate a snickers bar while waiting for the others. And then they came. First Tapper with a huge contagious smile on her face. Right behind her were Caterpillar and Cottontop. Looking at the faces of my fellow thru-hikers and then watching Cottontop say a little prayer of thanks at the sign, it started to hit me - this was a big deal. I don't think any of us were able to fully process this moment as a culmination of all the miles we'd come. We were simply enjoying the moment in good company, taking pictures of each other at the sign in various poses while laughing and reflecting. Reluctantly, we finally started the descent down the mountain and the beginnings of re-entry into our real lives off the trail. And now, a couple of days later, I'm feeling a little sappy and sentimental and sad that it's over. I am starting to understand all of the talk that I didn't at all comprehend when I started back in April as to what the Appalachian trail experience is all about. Like the Trail Days festival slogan sums up perfectly, "The People are the Trail." *********And now,