Date: 2003-10-10
From: Katahdin Stream Campground

To: Katahdin Stream Campground
Miles today: 5.0
Weather: broken clouds

      I was up early, pulled down the tent seemingly for the last time, and began sorting my gear. I put almost everything in a large garbage bag, and stashed it on the porch of the ranger's cabin across the river. It was a cold, clear, windless morning. I was going to wear my pack, but take only the essentials: water, filter, camera, a few clothes, a snack, and my hiking poles. Millipede and I signed in at the check station at seven o'clock. I figured it would take me five hours to get to the top.       I tried to rein in my excitement, and just move steadily along. The other thru hikers all passed me before reaching the treeline, and I was left to my own devices. The first mile wasn't too bad, gradual uphill. The second became rockier and much steeper. When I got to the treeline, I had a mile of huge rocks to go up and through. As you know I am not a good climber, especially this technical rock climbing. I had trouble following the markings and getting through some spots. At one point I found myself at an impasse and I thought that was as far as I was going to get. I kept telling myself everyone else makes it up here, and somehow I managed to get up and over. I wasn't sure how I was ever going to get down, but I kept clawing my way ever higher. When I got to the tablelands, I could see the summit off in the distance. It was flatter, but rocky and I slowly kept working my way toward the top.       I expected to start meeting all of the others on their way down, and I was worried that no one would still be there when I arrived. A few hundred yards from the others gathered about the infamous sign, I started crying. I don't know why. Maybe it was just the release of all the emotions of relief and happiness. I regained some composure and joined the others in picture taking and celebrating. I was exhausted. It had taken me five and a half hours to get up there, and getting down wasn't going to be any easier.       Patches of snow could be seen in areas that the sun didn't hit directly. Below, the red, gold, and green trees stretched for miles between the blue lakes and rivers. It was clear, calm, and about 60 degrees, a perfect day viewing the adjoining peaks. After a brief half hour, I had to begin descending. I was able to remember the route, and it wasn't as frightening as climbing had been. I slowly worked my way down the steepest rock section until I entered the treeline. Again everyone had passed me, and as I struggled along, I thought about some of the hikers I had met, those who had made it this far, and those that hadn't. They had all gone to the summit with me, but I wasn't sure what happened to some of them.       Five hours later I was the last to sign in at the check in station. The parking lot was empty and there was no one around. It was fitting. I had started alone, walked alone, and now finished alone. There was no way to get a ride out of the park, so I got my gear from the ranger station, and set up my tent again. I heard Strider was at a site with his daughter, and I went and talked with them for a few minutes. His foot was still sore, but he had made it in to summit tomorrow. He had started the same day I had, back on Springer Mountain. I strolled over to the thru hiker area, and chatted with a few hikers that I knew before crawling into my sleeping bag. I was sore and tired, but I had made that final climb. Seven months to the day, it took me to reach the top of Katahdin.