Date: 2014-07-10
From: Richmond, VA

To: Pike, New Hampshire
Miles today: 0.0
Weather: light rain

Home Again        I don¢t think that I can make it fully appreciable into words how very odd it is to come home after a long absence. Everything is exactly as you left it, and yet it feels like it has all been rearranged¢ moved around by a larger being. You become a child returning jubilantly from summer camp only to find that your mother has cleaned your room, rearranged it and thrown out all your old ¢useless¢ toys and nicknacks.        For three months I had longed to be able to hug my mother whenever the mood struck me, to meet my friends for lunch in town, to drive my pickup truck and know I could go anywhere, to watch a movie on Netflix, to have a refrigerator stocked full of cold food and a microwave to warm it up. They were small things. Things that didn¢t bother me, but that I was looking forward to returning to and that I would think about at odd moments when I was thumbing a lift into town or lying down in my tent, waiting for sleep to overtake me.        But with the return to the ¢norm¢ of comfort, anxiety inevitably follows.         I was not returning home victorious, as all my daydreams had shown. When I drove into Richmond I felt like hell. Not only physically, but mentally. There was no sense of completion and little pleasure in my accomplishment thus far. The initial relief that I felt when I walked into my parents¢ home in Chester did not last long because reality set in. Fast.         My poor parents. They put up with me well.         And between all the medical complaints, my disappointment in myself for being off trail, and my seeming inability to be comfortable anywhere, with anyone or doing anything, well, my parents had a lot to put up with. I just couldn¢t get comfortable no matter which way I wiggled.        I felt out of place everywhere I went and I felt ineffectual and directionless. During a weekend at a lake with a bunch of friends and acquaintances I found myself pacing and longing to escape the group. I went for a ¢30 minute walk¢ that ended up being three hours and finally I just gave up and asked if they would be offended if I went home early. It was too close. I was no longer in the know for inside jokes and events that had happened while I was gone... and worse, I didn¢t care.         That was the frightening thing: the realization that I no longer had things in common with certain people and I didn¢t much care to change that. My good friends are still my good friends. They are timeless, giving and overwhelmingly-terrific people¢ but I was out of synch and I wasn¢t quite ready to rematch my gait back into their pacing.         At home, too, I wasn¢t ready to face things that needed to be faced: finances, school, thoughts of the future. They were all things I knew that I would need to look at when I returned home (and had even begun to think about and plan for while on the trail), but it wasn¢t time yet! I didn¢t want to deal with them yet. I wanted to be back outside where all my problems and solutions were simple and tangible. The complexities of reality raced about me like irritating midges, constantly biting at me. Reminding me that I was going to have to swat at them sooner or later.        It took two weeks of antibiotics and rest to make the frustratingly slow climb back up into the realm of full health and I grumbled for almost all of it.         Two weeks and then I was able to head back out. But my unexpected detour would have to take a tole somewhere, and the realization that I would have to return to the real world sooner or later made me realize that I could not get back on the trail where I had left it. Also, the people that had meant the most to me on this trip were much farther north from where I had left them.         So, I decided, with the help of my ¢end date,¢ an offer from my cousin to help shuttle me around her home state, and the current placement of my Tramily to return to the trail in the White Mountains in New Hampshire, which would mean skipping about 500 miles of trail that I would have to make up at a later date.         Oh well. I am no longer a through hiker, just a very long section hiker. It is what it is and as we are constantly reminding ourselves and each other as we march along ¢hike your own hike.¢ This means be flexible. Don¢t judge others and don¢t let others¢ judgement of you dictate what feel right for your own journey. Katahdin is everyone¢s destination. But no two people have ever gotten there in entirely the same way. Everyone¢s trail has a different number of steps. The point is that you¢re willing to try to get there.P.S. I have some major shout outs and thank you¢s to give out, many of which are long, long over due. So please bear with me.I cannot believe how many people have responded to this blog. My guest book is filled with kind words, good wishes, advise and love from people I have never met and I am both touched and overjoyed whenever I see that someone has taken the time to send me a note. I have cried over that darned page more than I am really comfortable admitting. You¢re words have meant something to me and have buoyed me up. Thank you.On the home front:        Vanessa Fletcher, you taught me the basics of writing and instilled the initial interest in it... even if I was a miserable student. Thank you for beginning the process. I am no Hawthorne, Hemingway or Hardy but maybe someday I¢ll get to write your name in the acknowledgements of a real bound book. You were and continue to be one of my favorite teachers I have ever had. I am so thankful for you.        Erin, Carolyn, Elizabeth KB, and Cait¢ You are the best and brightest women I know. You are my sisters. You are my friends. I love you.         Aunt Pat and Uncle Dale¢ I am speechless with gratitude. You do too much for me. Again and again. Thank you. I love you. And I want to be like both of you when I grow up.        Ken, Taylor, Anna, Jennifer and Darwin¢ You are the coolest cousins on this planet. I mean it. I keep telling people I¢ve got the coolest family ever and the other hikers are like ¢Yeah, yeah. Our parents came out to see us too.¢ And I get to respond, ¢Oh, guys. It¢s not just my parents. I¢ve got cousins coming to see me and writing me letters.¢ Yeah, everyone¢s jealous. Thank you!        Roseanne and Ruth Anne¢ I have learned so much from you both and you¢ve cheered me on so enthusiastically. Thank you. Bonnie Rascal you are a wonderful hiking buddy!        McFadens/Changs¢ You are my ¢other¢ family and I love you all. Thank you for being such amazing cheerleaders! Getting to see you while I was in Richmond was such a blessing.         Doug¢ I am always impressed by your passion, drive, and persistence and thankful for your friendship. Sometimes I don¢t think you realize how much your support means to me. It does. Thanks.        Eric, Elizabeth, Darcy, Mom and Dad¢ There are no words to express how much I love you. You are the biggest blessings of my life.