Date: 2003-12-06
To: Wanderlust
Miles today: 0.0

Today is my anniversary.It was two months ago today that I summited Mt.Katahdin.I hiked over 1200 miles in six and a half months. I ran out of time before I ran out of trail.I can honestly say I throughly hiked part of the trail. I saw so many places,experienced so many new things,met so many neat people both on and off the trail.I realized a dream that I had had for years.It seems like just yesterday,but here I am, back at home, doing all the things a person does when they live in this artificial world. The real world for me is out on the trail where life is simple and uncluttered. Where my needs are very basic. No elaborate "things" to get me from day to day. At times I have to stop and think...did I really hike all those miles?? Did I really hike through snow and hail, rain and sleet, over mountains through valleys?? Did I really do that? It seems sureal at times. I have seen all of my grandchildren, held them close and tried to explain to them where I had been and why. For some it will be years before they "get it". In fact for most people I talk to, they will never get it. Every once in awhile when I am telling someone about my hike, their eyes will light up and they will say "Man, I have always wanted to do that!" I try to tell them the only thing separating their dream from reality is a start date. I find myself outside almost all day, every day. I am blessed to be able to stay home. I am a "kept" woman. I love it. If I come home after dark, I instintively look up at the night sky and view all the stars, brilliant against a dark night. I have even contemplated pitching my tent once more, and crawling into my sleeping bag, away from the glare of the television, lights, and noise. Several weeks ago I picked up my sleeping bag from the cleaners. It stayed atop the chest in my bedroom. I didn't want to put it away. That seemed too final to me, and I have lots of miles yet to hike on the AT. Finally the other morning, I grabbed it up, buried my face in it's clean softness, and promptly broke down and cried. The trail had became a way of life for me. A set routine that I had lived for months. Now it is gone and the memories stir deep within me. The trail calls to me. Or maybe not the trail, but the outdoors, the earth with which I formed such a intimate relationship with over those many miles. I miss the simplicity of life on the trail. I look around at my comfortable home and wonder how I could even think of giving up all the conveniences here for a tent, a pack and a trail but I could. Maybe for a day or a week. Maybe for a month or several. All I know is that I have unfinished business with the trail. I have trouble getting started most days. I dally over my hot tea, thinking of Carnethy Bob and the mornings we shared tea together. I think of Mudbutt and the precious evenings we spent eating supper together and replaying the day's adventures for each other. I sip my tea and think of Pirate with his funny quotes, and his ever present puzzle book. The memories come flooding over me threatening to send me into a fit of crying. Still, I sit on the porch and relish in the morning air, listening to the birds as they wake up. Congratulations to me. I have survied this fast pace world another day. I am counting the days until I can rejoin my spirit, back out on the trail. Until then....HAPPY HIKING!!!!<---VISIT MY 2004 JOURNAL FOR THE RETURN TO THE TRAIL