Date: 2009-08-31
To: My final week
Miles today: 0.0

Dear readers,After a relaxing, yet busy day at home, I finally find myself with the time to write about my time in the 100 Mile Wilderness and our final days on the AT. We left Monson pumped up and ready to take the final stretch of trail by storm. While waiting for Gangsta to finish up her final phone call at the trailhead, I stretched my tight legs muscles. Mentally, I was immediately transported to the moments before a big tennis match ¢ I¢ve had many in my lifetime. Quietly stretching, while waiting for your opponent to walk out on to the court, preparing for the challenge ahead, getting in the zone, 100% focus. That is exactly how I felt in those moments at the trailhead. It was me vs. the 100 Mile Wilderness and I would not be defeated. I was amped and ready to rock.That uber competitive attitude was short lived, when about .2 miles into the 100 Mile Wilderness, I got defeated by a measly looking bridge. By now, we all know that water crossings are my weakness. This includes walking across logs, rock hopping, and apparently ridiculous ¢bridges¢. I can¢t even call this a bridge. It was only about 6 feet long, and was created in ladder fashion out of skinny tree trunks, that were absurdly spaced about 8 inches apart. Thanks, Maine Appalachian Trail Conference for building a bridge that is an injury waiting to happen. The rungs of this wood ladder-esque bridge were inconveniently spaced just far enough apart that my foot could fall through. The rungs and beams going across were skinny enough that I didn¢t trust my trekking pole tips to not slip off. Ha, and if you think I can balance, think again. Gangsta got stellar video footage of me b*tching and moaning about it as I tried to take one or two steps forward on the bridge, then decided to forgo the bridge all together and hop off and cross on rocks (a much easier option!). I never even made it out over the water on the bridge, haha. I think you gotta see the video¢¦ or maybe you just had to be there¢¦ Apparently, even after 2,000 miles, some things just don¢t come easy. Yes, the 100 Mile Wilderness did not begin quite as I had hoped.Everyone has heard about the 100 Mile Wilderness-- how it¢s isolated, remote, and the final ¢challenge¢. WRONG-O. It¢s not isolated and remote. We crossed a couple dirt roads a day. We saw cars driving on them, we saw parking areas, and we saw day hikers. Lots of day hikers, particularly on days 1 and 2. I think it took us all by surprise. We even got trail magic! Seeing a cooler in the middle of the 100 Mile Wilderness was not what we were anticipating, but I¢m not complaining. It was full of sodas and whoopie pies! It was my first one! Delicious [now in the real world, I cannot imagine eating a whoopie pie], but I¢m still wondering what a Moon Pie is¢¦ I¢ve taken a liking to the nickname thru-hikers often given the 100 Mile Wilderness: a.k.a 100 Mile Inconvenient Re-Supply. Yes, that is a much more accurate description. At least we only had to carry 5 days of food. The sign at the start says to bring 10! HA. Yeah, right.In addition to many day hikers, we also passed a trail maintenance crew comprised of 4 older men. With the exception of that first bridge, I was impressed with their job. Apparently, those guys are in charge of the entire 100 mile stretch. The BEST part about running into them, though, was what they were carrying. A can of white paint! Yes, they were walking down the trail, fixing and adding white blazes. Now, this might not seem like that big of a deal to you, but to me, this was the answer to a question that had been running through my mind for 2100 miles. How do they paint the white blazes? Who paints them? Do they use a roller? A stencil? Spray paint? A brush? Every tree and rock I passed with a white blaze bore this question deeper into my brain. And here, in the final stretch of trail, my question would be answered. Unable to contain my excitement, I eagerly asked if they were indeed painting white blazes and expressed to them my curiosity on the matter. And then, to my amazement, the guy with the paint looked at me and asked, ¢Would you like to paint a blaze?¢ I think my jaw almost hit the ground.¢Really!? Can I? Foreal!?¢ He hands me the brush and says, ¢Go for it.¢ I stare quizzically at him and ask him, ¢How? Where?¢ He replies, ¢That tree looks nice. Paint it on. You¢ve seen enough blazes to know what they look like.¢I couldn¢t believe it. He just wanted to me paint it on a randomly picked tree. Concerned, I told him I was no artist. He laughed. So that was my answer. They just pick a tree and paint on what looks like a white 2x6 rectangle. And, they even let random girls walking through the woods do it, too! With one of the biggest smiles of the trail, I carefully painted that white blaze with pride while G snapped photos like a proud parent. It was a good one, too. I¢m no artist, but I know what a good white blaze looks like. The rest of the day was spent critiquing other ones we passed. Drippy. Too Long. Too Fat. Poor tree choice. Etc. It was a highlight of my thru-hike for sure. As we walked away, I heard the men comment that the white paint was a bigger chick magnet than a cute dog. He might be right.Halfway through the Wilderness we caught up to our friends Skittles, No Nails, and Moonwalker. They have been a day ahead of us for a few weeks but via text messages, we knew they were planning on summiting the same day as us and were excited to finally catch them. They are over 20 years older than Gangsta and I but we have been friends with them since Georgia and thoroughly enjoy their company, age differences aside. We were excited to all be summiting together. Skittles and Moonwalker had to re-supply at Whitehouse Landing so they were a on a slightly different itinerary than us, but No Nails had enough food with her and joined Gangsta and I for the majority of the 100 Miles. At 50 years old, No Nails had no problem hanging with Gangsta and I and the three of us had a great time all week. We even pulled our biggest day on the trail towards the end, 25 miles!!!Also in our company occasionally was another 26 year old female, Hard Core. We just met her south of Monson. She¢s been hiking with a guy, Flyby, since PA. She was hiking the AT in 4 months, hence her trailname, Hard Core. Anyway, I guess when you hike as big miles as she does on a daily basis, you don¢t find yourself in the consistent company of females. We shared the same itinerary for the first 4 days in the Wilderness, so when wanting a break from the group of guys she¢s frequently around, she spent time hiking with Gangsta and I. She didn¢t seem to mind our slower pace since she got some quality girl time in exchange. I had a lot in common with her and enjoyed getting to know her. Who knew friends could still be made in the final 100 miles of trail? The mileage we pulled through the Wilderness was big for us, and it wasn¢t a pace I could keep up for more than a week or two, but it was a typical week for Hard Core. She, Flyby, and a couple other guys all summited the day before us.There were many fords in the 100 Mile Wilderness. Gangsta and I walked right through them with shoes on. Luckily, we hadn¢t had much rain so they were all manageable and never got higher than our thighs. I can¢t imagine crossing them after heavy rains. Our buddy Dutch said at the end of July one was chest high and he had to swim, almost died, and lost a trekking pole. No thanks. Mother Nature was on our side for those! I¢d rather ford than cross on a log, crappy bridge, or rock hop anyway¢¦ Gangsta managed to slip and fall off a bog bridge at one point. That was fantastic. I wish I had had my camera out.The northern part of Maine is considered lake country for good reason. We were passing water all the time! The trail even meandered across a few sandy beaches! Unfortunately, we didn¢t have much time for swimming since we had big miles to get done. The downfall to camping by such pretty bodies of water is that the mosquitoes were really bad. Wanting to socialize and hang out around a fire was trumped by the urge to simply seek cover from the mozzies in our tents.We concluded the 100 Mile Wilderness with an easy 15 mile day into Abol Bridge campground on Monday, August 24th. Gangsta¢s hubby James had plans to meet us there and camp with us that night, then slack pack us the 10 miles into Baxter State Park where our families would be meeting us on Tuesday. I have never seen Gangsta get up and out of camp as quickly or early as she did that Monday. I guess not seeing your husband for 2.5 months will do that to you. I knew that would be the case so before bed I told her I¢d see her at Abol Bridge the next day cuz my ass wasn¢t getting up early with only fifteen miles to hike and no hubby awaiting me. No Nails left camp early, too (she lives on a farm and is an early riser!), and I actually thought I¢d be hiking the 15 miles solo, which I was kind of excited about. As it turns out, Hard Core didn¢t want to wait around for the boys she was with (they were taking their sweet ol¢ time getting out of camp) so she left with me. We hiked the entire 15 miles together before parting ways at Abol Bridge since she had another 10 to hike into Baxter that afternoon. It was fun having a new hiking buddy for a day, and as usual she didn¢t seem to mind my pace, slower than the guys she usually hikes with. The terrain was easy and enjoyable AND we had our first good, clear view of Katahdin!!! EXCITING! It only took us ¢til we were within 20 miles to see it, haha! Due to hurricane Bill, skies had been hazy and overcast most of the week, preventing views of our destination. We got some rain at night but at least it held off during the days!Hard Core and I arrived at Abol Bridge around 2pm ¢ I was thrilled to be done hiking for the day! It felt awesome to know all of our big hiking days were behind us. James, Gangsta, and No Nails were already there, and Skittles and Moonwalker finally caught back up to us later that evening after pulling a 23 mile day. The six of us camped at a large site at Abol Bridge Campground that had a perfect view of Katahdin! I pitched my tent and left the rainfly open so I had a view of the ¢Big K¢ from my bed. It was the best view to wake up to of the entire trail. The downfall to that night were the mosquitoes. They were HORRENDOUS. Swarms that simply attacked you all over, even with bugspray. I was decked out in full raingear and a headnet for protection. Even then, all I wanted to do was sit in my tent. Seriously, I¢ve ever seen mosquitoes that bad. It was simply a cloud of them. It was gross. That night, in my tent nice and early due to mozzies, I had time to think and reflect on recent adventures. My parents would be waiting for me at Baxter State Park and we¢d be sharing a lean-to the following evening so it was my last night as a Thru-hiker in my Hubba. I got nostalgic. My tent has been my home, my source of comfort, my personal space, refuge from storms and mosquitoes. As crappy as life or weather could be, once I was in my tent, it meant everything was okay and I made it through another day on the trail. Often times, climbing into my tent was one of my favorite feelings. It meant the close of another fulfilling, exhausting day on the trail. It made me sad to know I wouldn¢t have that feeling again.The last week or two on the AT was a burly one mileage-wise for us. Gangsta and I were averaging about 120 miles a week ¢ a lot for us. We were pulling big day after big day without rest. I felt exhausted but knew adrenaline would pull me through ¢til the end without a problem. I pride myself on being a strong finisher and this hike was no exception. Gangsta and I were giving our all each and every day, not ¢checking out¢, giving 100%. I felt like I finished each day strong, too, often taking the lead and acting as pace setter for G and I to crank out the last couple miles ¢til camp. Gangsta would always follow quickly at my heels. When tired, she preferred to simply follow, whereas I preferred to take the lead in ¢Get ¢er done!¢ fashion. We worked well together in that sense, considering we had many 20+ days in our final weeks. We hiked harder and farther than ever before. We were up awake no later than 6:30am each and every day, and were in camp no earlier than 6pm each evening. We could smell Katahdin, even if we couldn¢t see it, and we were motivated beyond belief. Adrenaline was constantly pulsing through my veins. When else will I willingly wake up at 5:30am excited about the prospect of a 25 mile hiking day ahead of me!? Especially after having hiked 22 miles the day before. I am not an early riser. Ask my mother. This atypical behavior can simply be attributed to the fact that I knew we were on the brink of achieving something great, our dreams easily within reach and I didn¢t want to stop until we had succeeded. Despite some really long hiking days, 160+ days on trail and 2100+ miles, that week in the 100 Mile Wilderness, I was exuding energy and enthusiasm for the task at hand that went unrivaled in my thru-hike. SOBO¢s could tell we were about to complete a NOBO thru-hike simply by my smile. They said it was a dead giveaway. It was a week I will never forget. I have never felt so determined, motivated, and dedicated in my life. I felt proud of myself for working so hard for what I was about to achieve. My work ethic was unparalleled those last few weeks to anything I have ever done - a work ethic that comes out of hiding when heart, soul, and dreams are involved. I loved everything about it. Okay, so I¢ve still got our big day to talk about but I¢m really tired and am gonna hit the hay. Oh, and this is a friggin¢ novel. I didn¢t even realize how long it was! Do ya¢ll actually read entries that are this long!? I guess you¢ll have to wait in suspense til I can get the rest posted (hopefully tomorrow). But you¢ve probably read Gangsta¢s journal and know all about our summit climb already anyway. Til then, enjoy this entry. Photos and video coming soon¢¦Happy Trails,Wags