Date: 2004-07-08
To: epilogue
Miles today: 0.0

Looks like it is time to wrap this puppy up, huh?I hate loose ends and have been reminding myself to submit this conclusion for weeks but procrastination has had the upper hand. I think it¢s because writing this entry really cements the end of my journey and I can¢t yet let go of the AT. Regardless I feel I owe it to myself and to those reading to complete this journal. I am finished hiking the Appalachian Trail.I came home in early June and spent a week semi-comatose and drooling in comforts at the Jersey shore. Initially I was entirely ambivalent about returning to the trail, and chose to postpone any major decisions until after this week of R&R. Turns out I didn¢t have to wait that long. It was literally a moment on the beach, sweating and squinting in the sun, absorbing the generic beach soundtrack of waves, birds, little kids, etc., and reminiscing about the trail when I honestly admitted that I didn¢t want to go back. From my head down to my very toes there was not one fiber left in my body that had the desire to walk to Maine. Whatever emotions fueled me were tapped - I was tired to my very core and with that admission I felt a little bit sad because I realized that I was sincere ¢ I was really, truly done. It is difficult to pinpoint and articulate the factors that made me want to stop hiking. The physical strain and persistent discomfort, the isolation, homesickness, monotony, boredom and mind games all contributed to the inconceivable challenge of this hike, but hiking through them was my very greatest triumph. When I began the trail, like many hikers I thought the goal was to reach Katahdin but along the way I realized my goals were far more personal and could never be defined by any particular location or mileage quota. I projected the conquest of Mt. Katahdin to be a revolutionary event in my life, one that would change me forever. But the truth is that I¢m always changing, and every single event in my life, even the most trite, has the potential to change me in the most profound way ¢ it¢s all a matter of perspective. I learned that on the trail. I guess there just came a point when I had nothing left to prove by continuing.I honestly don¢t have regrets or hard feelings. I didn¢t leave with a sense of defeat but rather with a sense of fulfillment ¢ I came face to face with myself and stood my ground. I think everything that transpired on the trail was as it was supposed to be: the tough times were lessons and the beautiful times were gifts. When I fell short I learned, when I hurt I grew, and when I ¢failed¢ I let myself become became a little more human. Still I¢ve had times when I struggle with feelings of disappointment and failure but I¢m working on it. Ultimately I don¢t want to let unrealistic expectations of myself dictate the choices I make. So, after the shore I came home, unemployed and essentially homeless but with a damn fine tan, and contemplated the next fork in the woods ¢ so to speak. True to form I ended up making a random and impetuous decision to move to Brooklyn, get a job in NYC, and commute via skateboard. Minor glitches in the plan: I have only a vague idea of what I want to do for work and I can¢t skateboard. But those are just details. I have essentially decided that I have little interest in using my Geology degree and have decided to pursue writing in some capacity yet to be determined. In the interim I have been looking into internship opportunities in the NYC area but the truth is that I think I will end up working a few menial jobs until I can build a resume that doesn¢t include seismic surveys, fossils, or coring. So I went ahead and found a place to live, learned HTML and slapped together a resume, bought a laptop and Kevlar tires, and filled up a pickup truck with furniture picked directly from the garbage. My room is under construction and it smells (the space was a down feather warehouse ¢ eau de animal) but rent is cheap and the roommates (all seven of ¢em) are friendly so it¢s a start. A few more things I need to mention in order to make this a proper conclusion. I wish to extend one more humble thank you to those who traveled with me via trailjournals. I don¢t even know how to write this part without making it sound insincere ¢ always seems to be the case when I write about my closest feelings. Anyway, every single time I opened my inbox on the trail there was mail from people I knew and many I had never met encouraging, congratulating, and inspiring me to continue on the trail. I remember times when it felt overwhelming and I didn¢t understand it and I felt entirely undeserving of such support and unsolicited kindness. Even when I was struggling with the hike, there were many who emailed just to tell me they were proud, rooting for me, envious, inspired, impressed, etc., and would continue to be regardless of whether I stayed on the trail. I was reminded of the inherent goodness in people and of the privilege of treating one another with love. I was reminded that the smallest kindnesses often have the biggest impact and the briefest encounters can leave a permanent mark. When Oakie told me it was the people who ¢make¢ the trail he was right ¢ both the people on and off the trail. So that¢s my story and here I am. Fortunately, I have only a vague idea of what the future holds, but I¢m willing to bet that it¢s filled with all things unexpected. My only certainty is my willingness to travel this new path with a sense of constant wonder, curiosity, and gratitude for the endless possibilities. over and out.