Date: 2008-09-14
From: The Birches Campsite

To: Mt. Katahdin
Miles today: 5.2
Weather: light rain

Finished! Got up early and headed out for the last, big climb - Mt. Katahdin here in Baxter State Park in Maine. The top of the mountain is the northern terminus of the Appalachian Trail, far from its southern terminus at the top of Springer Mountain in Georgia. Between the two termini lie 2,176.2 miles of trail.About 3 miles of the climb up Katahdin lie above treeline. Below treeline, it felt like any other climb, and I thought "Hey, this isn't so bad." But above treeline, especially in the wet, windy, foggy, cold weather we had this morning - the mountain is possibly the most challenging of the entire trail. It's nothing but incredibly steep rock scrambling up there, often requiring you to hoist yourself (and your pack) up by your arms, sometimes using bars and footholds that have been drilled into the rock. No wonder they do 100 rescues on this mountain every year. I heard one thru-hiker broke his hand descending the mountain this year. Anyway, at the very top, along the ridgeline, the trail flattens out a bit, and I remember Mr. Bones walking behind me and going "There it is!" as that sign, that famous sign that we've seen so many times in pictures but never in person, suddenly emerged from the fog that was obscuring everything further than 30 feet.What can I say about this moment? It wasn't what I had expected - I had heard former thru-hikers talking about this as a grand emotional climax, where everyone, including grizzled old men, were crying like babies, involuntarily, the weight of the 2000+ mile journey suddenly registering all at once upon touching that sign, as if transmitted psychically. And I must admit I had daydreamed often of this moment while walking along on many days on the trail, both near the beginning and end. I imagined a scene so powerful and sincere that if it were filmed for a documentary about the trail, a person watching it would simply have no choice but to tear up.But, as you may have guessed, it was not like that at all. I touched the sign, ceremonially, as I knew I should, but it was a comically mundane piece of wood sitting on top of another mountain. I am happy to be done, but it didn't hit me when I touched that sign. I don't feel like I'm finished. My last register entry, at the base of Katahdin at the ranger station, simply said that I will summit Katahdin and move on to the next life adventure, but I won't get off the trail. I feel like "on the trail" is many things, and I don't want to abandon what I've gained from the trail simply because I've walked its entire length. My faith in the kindness of strangers, in the ability of life to properly guide those of an open mind and heart, the ability to be alone but not lonely, a sense of rugged independence, a gentle exterior, a fierce interior.I do not feel that this is my last long-distance hike. Unless my life takes an unexpected turn (as lives are prone to doing), I would like to undertake the 2,650 mile journey from Mexico to Canada along the Pacific Crest Trail, the PCT, hopefully in 2010.I could never have predicted what this journey would imply. I often say that this is 6 years of experiences condensed into 6 months of walking. If you want to renew your faith in humanity, in yourself - if you want to see America, free from cars and computers and televisions and obligations - if you want to live a life of adventure that changes unexpectedly day to day, show up on Springer Mountain in Georgia with your pack on your back and simply begin walking, for not by following these words, but my footsteps, will you understand what I have done.Relevant LinksThe article about Mudbug and I in the New York Times: http://www.nytimes.com/2008/08/29/travel/escapes/29ConnHike.htmlMy pictures: http://flickr.com/photos/andrewsimpson83/sets/72157607453776521/