Date: 2015-07-14
From: The Cookie Lady's House

To: Mark Noepel Shelter
Miles today: 23.4
Weather: few clouds

It is before 7 PM and I am in bed. You may be thinking, "Wow, that is super lame. Who goes to bed so early? Summer hiker midnight isn't even until 9!"However, I think that it is GLORIOUS. So. Freaking. Glorious.The weather and I were gloomy this morning. Even though I had gone to bed ridiculously early (8:00), I also slept an hour late. I was not motivated. Indeed, I was feeling rather depressed. Last night and this morning were one of the rare times where I really, really wanted to just go home. Not necessarily quit my thru-hike, but take a break. I didn't want to be on the trail.I sent my mom a message before turning off my phone to save battery: "Please don't let me give up!" I don't think that I will, but sometimes I get down.A few hours later, when I checked my phone again, I got her response: "You won't give up, honey. You just need to have a few days back on the trail and you'll be fine."And she was right. I was miserable for the first hour of the hike. After two hours of slogging through muck and mud, cursing my wet socks, and praying that my pants would stay dry so I didn't have to suffer more buttchafe (no such luck), I started to pick up a little. By ten o'clock, three hours after I left the cookie couple's house, I was starting to feel Danielle slipping out of my skin and Red Panda resuming her rightful place on the trail. I got back into the hike. I embraced the dirt on my legs and mud in my boots. I took a deep breath of Appalachian air and felt better.As I hiked this morning, I passed a southbound runner, who raised a hand as he jogged past me. I raised my own in response and we shared a high-five. "Georgia's right over there, right?" He asked as he continued south. I laughed. To me, it seems like I was JUST in Georgia. "You're getting closer all the time!" I told him.I have been passing a lot of southbound thru-hikers lately. They have become more common over the last couple of weeks. I haven't had a chance to really talk to any of them yet, though. I think it's great that there are so many different ways to hike the trail - especially since it reduces overcrowding - but I like my northbound hike.In the late morning I walked through Dalton (ugh, road walking!) I stopped in front of a church to eat a snack, leaving a gross sweaty butt mark on the wood when I arose (I am sick of being gross).I passed by the suburban residences, crossing Pleasant Street, which actually did look pleasant. I walked past a man trimming his hedges, past a park chock-full of children swinging and sliding, and past a barefoot girl leading a barefoot toddler. A woman on the sidewalk asked if I was a thru-hiker and if I was heading to Greylock today (no way, it is way too far!) It is strange to think of these things. You get so caught up in your own life that you forget the ones that others lead.I thought about my future as I ambled past those houses. I wondered what it would be like to live in them. I might want to own a small house someday. I like the idea of having my own space, my own comfortable place to return to every night. It is strange also to think of where I am in life compared to others. Jeralyn has a house and is now married. Aviary will be moving to her new house soon. Candace is engaged. And I am STILL single, futureless, unemployed, and living as a wilderness vagabond. I used to think that I had to follow the normal progression of societal life... career, marriage, house, kids...But screw that. I just want to be HAPPY. I wouldn't mind a little log cabin, though...First I need a job... but that's an issue for another time.As I climbed out of Dalton, I was feeling much the opposite of my morning gloom. I was a bit cheery, and the sun, seeming to echo my mood, started to peek out from behind the clouds.I enjoyed my lunch on a rock beside the trail. I ate tuna right out of the pouch, listening to the babbling brook next to me and enjoying that damp, earthy forest smell. It was very pleasant, as were the next few hours of hiking.The last few miles were a struggle, though. As I climbed out of Cheshire (another cute little town), my body just wanted to give up. I was tired. The hills were doing me in. I was perfectly capable of hiking flat ground. And downhill? No problem! BUT THOSE HILLS. I slug-crawled up them, my skin oozing sweat, struggling for energy.And then, as I entered the last two-mile stretch, it started raining. I would have preferred a downpour to the pathetic shower I got. At least it would have cleaned me off a little.And then, as always, I arrived at my destination, pleased to pass the privy (sometimes I have trouble finding them... too many unmarked paths) and a bear box on my way to the shelter. I don't have to throw my rope at a tree tonight! I don't have to dig a hole! I am so spoiled lately.Silent Force is the only other resident tonight. I saw him last week, but he had been hiking with his sister for a few days (and putting in fewer miles), so I caught up to him. He kindly offered to share his clothesline, an opportunity I jumped on. My clothes will definitely still be damp in the morning, though. Everything is always damp now.Anyway, I conducted all of my chores and am feeling very comfortable and relaxed. I am so glad to be sleeping out in the fresh air again!Tomorrow, I plan to climb Greylock. And then... VERMONT. I DON'T KNOW HOW THIS IS POSSIBLE. Only a few states left... I am already obsessing over the climb up Katahdin. I want to be able to time it so that Trail Mentor Alexa can climb with me. I can't summit without her!I met Alexa during my internship at Acadia National Park in 2011, after I graduated from university. She was working as a ranger there, and we became friends. At that point, I knew that she had hiked the AT, but I hadn't really considered doing it myself. When I returned to the same internship last fall, Mary, a volunteer working at the park, asked Alexa to share her AT stories and pictures. And the seed was planted. I asked her about a million questions, all of which she answered patiently, even the stupid ones (I was seriously clueless). She helped me compile a gear list. She helped me pick out a tent and sleeping bag. She warned me of things not to do, and even gave me a little headlamp (I sleep with it around my neck every night.)And when I decided to attempt a thru-hike, she offered to drive me to Georgia. She lives in Maine. She was willing to drive nearly the entire length of the trail to see me off. She hiked the first day with me, and checked in on me the next day.Alexa is one of the most amazing people I know. She lives her life in a way that I admire. She is kind and generous and patient. I will be disappointed if we won't be able to make that journey up Katahdin together. I have faith that we can make it happen, though!Tonight, I am thankful for peace, for quiet, and for the natural world around me. I am thankful for my mother's words and support. I am thankful for my red panda socks from Candace, which are keeping my soggy toes warm.