Date: 2008-07-26
From: Katahdin Base (Millinocket)

To: Katahdin!
Miles today: 5.2
Weather: scattered clouds

When I wrote yesterday that climbing Katahdin is essentially a microcosm for the entire trip, I was right. I kept smiling to myself all day at the reality in that statement. Today was full of ups, downs, frustration, jubilation, impatience, patience, flexibility, hard work, contemplation, socializing, spontaneity and truth. After a surprisingly full night of sleep, the whole family was up by 0545 and packing. I expertly packed my full pack up for one last day. My pack has been with me over 2000 miles and I felt that it too should make the trip up to the summit. I'm not usually sentimental about inanimate objects such as gear but it has traveled all the miles my feet have and just feels right carrying it up. After my last pop-tart breakfast for a long time we all piled into the car and headed through some thick clouds back to Baxter. We proceeded through the gate and separated right there. The plan was to drop me off to hitch back to the AT (easy in Baxter) while the Mom, Dad, Ryan and Julia headed to the other side of the mountain to climb the slightly easier Saddle trail. I'm really fortunate that my family is so understanding because this was somewhat of an awkward request. They really wanted to summit with me but I wanted to hike up alone. This is a special day for me and being able to hike up at my own pace just seemed fitting. The plan was to have the family start hiking at 0700 while I twiddled my thumbs until 0900 to time a meeting on the summit around 1200. The 2 pickup trucks behind us at the gate picked me up and I had the pleasure of my last hitch in the back of a pickup. The pickups missed the turnoff by several miles, so I spent over 20 minutes freezing my ass off in the back. I didn't mind though. My mind was on other things. After knocking on the cab window to inform the drivers that they had gone too far, they turned around and finally arrived back at the AT by 0715. Since I was waiting until 0900 to start, I walked over to the ranger station, read all the register entries from Time Traveler, Hit & Miss and hung out at a picnic table jotting down some thoughts and talking to the ranger. I even jammed out on the Ipod for a few pump up songs before getting antsy. It was 0845 but I couldn't wait another 15 minutes. I was ready to summit this last mountain, and climb I did. I really could have run up that mountain if I wanted to. I didn't run, but I didn't take my time either. I didn't need (or want) to take any breaks. The first 2 miles were fairly standard climbing ¢ nothing outrageously steep, but still gaining elevation. I must have passed over 30 people in those miles, which is the biggest disadvantage of summiting on a sunny Saturday. The 3rd mile was like a vertical Mahoosuc Notch. Tons of bouldering, 4 point climbing and a whole lot of fun. Bouldering forces me to go slow enough to catch my breath, but I never need to take to take stationary breaks. I scooted up to the Tablelands. which is a plateau in sight of the summit that offers easy, flat walking with 360 degree views at 4500'. Amazing. I was actually here at the end of my journey. I calmly climbed the last 700' and plumped down on a rock to relax. It was 11:15 and I was sure I had plenty of time before the family got here. I tried my best to take it all in, smell the mountain air, take some pictures, but to be honest it felt "off". There were way too many people here. There must have been 60 on the summit. They all clustered extremely close to the sign as if that were the only place to sit. People were actually taking their lunch break behind the Katahdin sign so that any pictures taken of the sign would have them in the background. Perhaps my feelings of entitlement were unwarranted but I felt as if I owned this moment, yet I felt out of place. These people were celebrating the climbing of a mountain while I was wrapping up the journey of my lifetime. However, the trail has taught me to roll with the punches and not let anything get in the way too much. I refrained from touching the sign until my family arrived, so I took a seat away from it all and jotted down some thoughts. One of my favorite moments was overhearing a 10-year-old kid tell his father "This is the toughest and best thing I've ever done in my whole life!" Now that's the spirit. Eventually someone came up to me and asked if I was a thru-hiker, which I confirmed (it¢s pretty easy to tell). Word got out and I got hearty congratulations from several hikers. As the day progressed, I was pleased to see the summit population slowly decline as more and more hikers descended. Slowly but surely the family made it up around 1415 where hugs were exchanged and some tearful congratulations. I finally headed over to touch that old battered sign to complete my 2176.2 mile trek of a lifetime. As always, I remained calm and collected but I'm sure my face was radiating pure joy and satisfaction. I was celebrating with an incredibly supportive family, a victory cigar, and a bottle of champagne, purchased by Ryan and lugged up by Julia. It was as perfect as I had always imagined it. Ryan takes his photography seriously and did an amazing job documenting the celebration as well as the scenery. We soaked it all in one last time before heading down. On the way down the Saddle trail, things were slow going. My mom's trouble with her hip coupled with a steep descent down the saddle took longer than expected. Instead of rolling the dice and risking a bit of night hiking, we decided to inquire at the Chimney Pond campground (halfway down) about an overnight stay. They luckily had a shelter open so I got to savor the shelter experience unexpectedly one last time. Ranger Rich even gave us food and sleeping bags too. Nice guy. Since the shelter only had room for 4, I used my immaculate sleeping skills to sleep under the shelter (no tents allowed in Baxter). We hiked out the next morning and drove the 5 hours home to good 'ole New Hampshire. "I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived." ~ Henry David Thoreau