Date: 2008-10-10
From: Katahdin stream campground

To: KATAHDIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Miles today: 10.0
Weather: broken clouds

So my moment in the sun was not to be. Sad but true. Because on Thursday night at 9:30 I got a call from home and found out that there was some terrible news in my family. Apparently they had debated about whether or not to tell me then or to wait until after my hike on Friday. Somehow they decided I needed to know immediately (even though there was no urgency) despite that it would mean I would never get my moment, that the one thing I had looked forward to and the thing that had driven me throughout the entire 5 months was not as important as getting the news now instead of after 24 hours. A brother asked if I wanted to know now or tomorrow. ? Really? No, I said, I want to know tomorrow. But sadly, it was too late, because of course I knew something was up and couldn't really get into the moment on Friday, with the thought of bad news in the back of my mind. I imagined all kinds of terrible things of course, my mind racing whenever I had two minutes, which when you are hiking, is of course mostly every minute. Lead Dog tried to keep me distracted but it wasn't always possible. I was so thankful to not to have to hike it alone. The morning was cool and after breakfast at the Appalachian Trail Cafe we headed out to the park. I was stressed because I wanted to be in the park, at the parking lot by 6 but we didn't even leave the breakfast place until close to 6. So we got to the gate and there was a whole line of cars ahead of us and it was taking forever to move forward. Finally, it was our turn, we payed our fee and drove back to the parking lot. Amazingly, there wasn't even one car in the parking lot! So we parked and went about making sandwiches in the back of the pickup truck. Lead Dog and I walked to the other side of the parking lot to watch the clouds blow across the top of Katahdin, the sunlight peeking out from behind the clouds. It was a beautiful view and I felt excited that in a few hours we would be up on that mountain. I told him about the phone call and that some terrible news would be waiting for me when I finished. It was warm at first but as we gained elevation the temperature dropped. I had to stop and layer on some more clothes. Good thing because the higher we walked, the colder it was. And the wind was wicked! Likely 40 or more miles and hour and even though I am not a petite person I could feel the wind pushing me around. Later we found out it was a class 3 day. (the scale goes from class 1=clear to class 4=trails closed. It was class 3 because Knife edge trail was closed for possible icing and the rest of the trails were dealing with 45 mph winds and no visibility.)We came to some tough technical spots that required lots of concentration and strength. It did not last all that long, not nearly as long as I had expected. But there were some difficult spots, some that I stood there, getting blown by the wind and wondering how the heck I was going to get up there. In several cases Lead Dog had to offer a hand to pull me up. After the rock climbing sections we were on the ridge, with drop-offs on either side of us. I had to climb from rock to rock with the wind pushing me around, threatening to send me over the edge. I was happy to have poles and good balance. We made it past that section, then up into the cloud so there was no view, nothing to see but white and a few feet in front of us. We could no longer see where we'd been or where we were going. That was disappointing. At a large rock, a sort-of wind break, we stopped to eat something. It was cold and we knew we could not be there too long. Every once in a while the wind would push the clouds out of the way and suddenly, we would be able to see down below, where the world was still and silent. There were painted trees and lakes that looked like silver spots amid color, glinting in the sunlight. It was magical. Then, just as quickly, the cloud would move back into place and we'd see nothing but white. Our snack finished, we hiked on. Eventually the trail leveled out some and we were up on the ridge. As was true below, every once in a while we would be blessed with a view. When that happened it was such a treat! The top was rock-covered and the rocks were covered with lichens, mostly shades of green that made them so beautiful in the light. Alpine plants grew between the rocks, some red with the fall season and others green and brown. The trail was flat and rocky, some spots sandy, but all fairly level for a while. I was surprised because I expected it to be REALLY HARD TRAIL. We walked on, freezing cold then, the wind still fierce. Lead Dog had given me his fleece and was without his hat so he was cold. No chance for stopping. We walked on. When we reached the top, saw the sign, it was not exactly the moment I had been dreaming about. My mood was not right, with the impending family news and the cold and the wind and the lack of view. But there was the sign, as well as some hikers standing there taking pictures. I was overcome suddenly with emotion and had to take a few minutes before I could stand by the sign to have my photo taken. I thought of all those thru-hikers who had been there before me, of them standing there and having their dreams come true. It is a powerful spot. But for me, it was impossible to get into the moment, as much as I tried and maybe appeared to others, to be happy and joyful. The family news weighed heavy on my mind and I was not myself. Lead Dog took some pictures of me but none--not his fault!-- were the picture I had imagined in my head for 5 months. I wanted a picture of me kissing the sign, one of me standing proudly behind it, one of me lollygagging, one of me with my head against it in relief. Too cold to dally, we headed back down the trail. And ran into the Mule and his 3 friends, also thru-hikers. That was amazing as The Mule started in May with me, way back in Georgia. We exchanged joyful greetings and then hurried on as it was COLD and the wind was wicked. Lead Dog and I decided to take an alternate route down, not wanting to go down the tough rocky sections that we had climbed up. It is so much easier going up than going down. And probably a lot less dangerous. The trail we chose was practically straight down, traveling along a rockslide so it meant stepping carefully from one rock to the next, trying not to slide or fall. About 10 minutes down I was feeling dizzy so we stopped and huddled out of the wind to eat a sandwich. Then back on our way. After what seemed like a really long time we made it back to the trees, then through the woods and eventually to the Abol campground where we asked the ranger on duty for a ride to the Katahdin stream campground where Frank and Evelyn were waiting. She drove us there, went in with us to the ranger station to fill out paperwork and get our 2000 mile certificate applications. We ran into Thor, Hobo Joe and Hornsby who had decided to hike Katahdin the following day. We walked the short distance to the parking lot and it was over. I said my goodbyes to Lead Dog and Evelyn and then headed out back to Millinocket where I would go into my hotel room and call my family. The news was beyond anything I could ever have imagined in a million years--that my younger brother (one of four), Andy, only 30 years old had committed suicide the night before. My world stopped. And has been stopped since. Friends had planned a surprise party for me, --everyone was going to be wearing hand-painted T-shirts saying "The Lollygagger!" on them, a menu to celebrate in grand style, house decorations, an interview with the newspaper about the hike... All was cancelled. I made no excited calls to friends. Instead, I drove west to Buffalo, where my Mom lives and where the services would be held later in the week. My three brothers were already there. So not a good ending. But such is the way life works and there is nothing I can do about it other than to try and find peace and move on--a challenge greater than hiking the AT from start to finish. I did hike the entire AT and I did climb Katahdin--the "greatest mountain" . I feel proud of those accomplishments and will for the rest of my life. But the joy I should have been able to revel in is not there and will never be and I can't help but feel cheated. And unbearably sad. And of course, rising above all else there is confusion about why my brother did what he did and how I could have had no idea. To those reading I say, go give someone a hug right now! Don't take people you love for granted. Be involved in your family and friend's lives. Enjoy the moments you do get, celebrate every little thing, tell someone you love them and tell them often. Don't assume anything. Be a good listener. Life is short and you never know when someone you love won't be there anymore. I learned all of this the hard way. I will hike Katahdin again one day--on a clear, sunny blue-sky day. And it will be a joyful day.