Date: 2003-08-08
From: Clarks Ferry Shelter

To: Rausch Gap Shelter
Miles today: 24.3
Weather: haze

Something very crucial just happened.Pete just left. I'd fallen back asleep as he was packing up, and he woke me to say goodbye. I was glad, so then I could take his picture and we exchanged e-mails.As soon as he was gone I started crying. I can't explain it, but I somehow feel liek I could go home now and my trip would be complete. I didn't cry BECAUSE he left; I just felt deeply touched by the whole experience. (Maybe it was just two nights of little sleep...) Never have I felt so strongly that I was in exactly the place I was supposed to be at exactly the time I was supposed to be there. Sort of a "divine appointment." I don't think it's presumptuous to say that God spoke through me last night, and yet I'm painfully aware of how weak and sinful I am.I just feel kind of like I could be done. Is this from You, God? Do I go home now? I'm torn; I still feel the pull of some of my dreams. Just yesterday I got a great idea of something to do when I finished Katahdin.Help me to KNOW, God. I'm going to go through my morning routine, pack up, and walk up to that Trail junction, and I trust You to put it in my mine which direction You want me to go. "Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, 'This is the way; walk in it.'" Isaiah 30:21So I ate breakfast, got dressed, packed up, and walked up to the Trail. I stopped. Closed my eyes. Took a deep breath. And I turned and started walking. And I felt so at peace.Within 45 minutes, nay 15 minutes, my peae was challenged. The bugs appeared at once. The spiderwebs were worse than ever. The rocks were still there. (Pennsylvania is all kinds of rocky - gravel, pebbles, boulders; sharp ones, round ones, big ones, small ones, loose ones, steady ones... You could write a Dr. Seuss book about them.) I kept a steady pace to Peters Mountain Shelter and headed down to get water.Down, down, down. It took me seven minutes - going fast! - just to get down the steep rock steps to the spring. At least it was flowing strongly. But on the way back up I stopped several times to catch my breath (this without my pack on!), and finally to cry in frustration at how hard a time I was having climbing back up. No, this is not fun anymore. (Is it supposed to be?) It's like having a VO2 max or cardiac stress treadmill test every day - several of them - and this state isn't even as hilly as Georgia, North Carolina, Tennessee, or even Virginia. Why is it wearing on me so much more now? How could I get so far and only just now get so discouraged?Sine I posted my need for a pep-talk many people have focused on what I've done so far, how amazing that is. My family has been realy good about "giving me permission" so to speak to settle for that and stop now if I want to. I know: I know I could. And one of the ways Pete's conversation last night was so valuable to me was to restore my awe for what I've accomplished so far. Thank you so much for not putting excessive pressure one me; but don't let me give up so easily!This is what I was afraid of if I turned North - that I'd lose that peaceful feeling. I started to second-guess my decision - another strong Scott family trait!I was thinking yesterday that if I quit now I'd feel like I gave up just when it got hard - just BECAUSE it got hard. When I was burned out on school last year and made the comment to my Dad that I had a two-year limit on my enjoyment of school he suggested maybe I'd inherited his and my grandpa's enthusiasm for new projects, which sometimes tends to dwindle before the project is finished. Maybe that's what this is about since the last few days I hav ebegun to daydream beyond the Trail and get excited about the next adventures that await me, feeling anxious to get on with the "next thing". Come on; when school wasn't "fun" anymore would I have felt gooda bout dropping out (again)? When the newness of a job wears off is it okay to quit it? If I were married and decided it wasn't fun anymore, is that a reason to get divorced? If I get to Norway after committing to stay for a year and decide I don't like it after two months is that acceptable to leave? Why is this any different?I know none of these are perfect analogies. Still, this is something I committed to doing. Isn't it most integritous (is that a word) to see it through? Especially because the commitment was only to myself! And especially because it is challenging!Well, forty minutes later, a snack ingested and my (iodine) water ready to drink, I feel much calmer and ready to tackle the remaining 17.5 miles in the day.An aside: I'm well aware of how foolish it is to cry over the fact that I can't climb a hill without getting winded. Remember Mother Hen's little boy with the rare vascular disease and terribly swollen legs? Amber in a wheelchair with muscular dystrophy that I used to clean house for in Walla Walla? Jo who depends more day by day on her kids and various aids as her Diabetes and edeme grow worse and worse? My former client from Cleveland who was in a wheelchair? Talk about losing sight of the big picture!What a mind game this is.Later...The rest of this morning was so utterly miserable I don't even know what to say about it. Oh, nothing was different; the terrain no more difficult, the scenery no less pretty, the spiderwebs no thicker, the bugs no more relentless. It was all in my mind. I thought the "P" in PMS stood for "pre-"...Never have the miles gone so slow. Never have I felt more alone and far away from anyone. At last I reached Pa. 325, sort of a "my day's more than half over" point. Good thing I have such an aversion to hitchhiking alone becasue I would most certainly have gotten off the Trail here and gone home. How I wished I'd gone South this morning and done just that!I figured I must have made the right decision though, because the right thing invariably seems to be more difficult to do than the wrong thing. "Following the path of least resistance is what makes rivers and men crooked." (I forget who said that.)Right now I sit on a log waiting for my feet to dry after having taken a dip in the stream on the other side of the road. I also ate somthing; this is where the climb of the day begins.As usual the cool water on my face, my head, my body, has cleared my mind and I sit in the figurative calm after the storm. If that was my lowest moment on the Trail (and surely it couldn't get any lower...), it can only get better from here, right?Eleven miles to go...Made it in four hours. The climb was long but gradual. I just put my head down and did it. A few times I even smiled at the thought I was still here; I'd triumphed. (Not alone - I'd uttered many prayers!) The afternoon was melancholy, though. A cloud cover caused an almost twilight feel allafternoon; it felt like a fall evening, with the light, except it was till too warm and muggy to be fall. Thunder sounded off in the distance and at last it sprinkled just a little; as soon as I put on my pack cover it stopped!This shelter is in a great spot - it will be a nice place to spend Sabbath. It's .3 miles off the Trail, but believe it or not the shelter trail is completely flat!! And rock-free, and covered in pine needles. The shelter itself is kind of dank and depressing though; dark and a little creepy. But just South of here on the Trail was a creek - I'm sure I'll head back out there at some point tomorrow. Hope tomorrow is sunny!