Date: 2015-06-11
From: Pochuck Mountain Shelter

To: Wawayanda Shelter
Miles today: 11.5
Weather: clear sky

The last few days were quite long, and we knew that the oncoming terrain leading up to Bear Mountain would be difficult, so today was a short day. We climbed down Pochuck Mountain as the grey overhanging clouds teased us with a light drizzle of rain. Happily, we were spared from a cold shower. The Trail today was agreeable - the rocks seemed to have given way to small, continuous uphills and downhills, a welcome change despite the obvious challenge. The Trail passed through the Pochuck Boardwalk, a short but pleasant segment which brought us once again through swampy marshes. Turtles poked their head through the still waters covered in a thick blanket of green. We climbed Wawayanda Mountain around noon. The view from the vista on top showed the surrounding farmlands though very little was visible as the whole scenery was cloaked in a thick haze. We headed for the shelter when we found some Trail magic in the form of iced tea. Thank you, kind stranger!I am now hidden in the tent, away from the voracious mosquitoes who have been particularly aggressive today. The trees are dropping some type of buds so, in concert with the paratrooping caterpillars and their half-eaten leaves, it sounds as if a gentle rain is falling while the sky is still blue.I had wanted to write a 3 month retrospective. I have yet to write anything partly because I have been a bit lazy, but it is mostly because I do not know how to write it. My thoughts about this thru-hike thus far are undefined and confused, a strange mixture of emotions: exaltation, fear, desperation, anger, pride, lassitude, hope. Today we have been on the Trail for 100 days, so it's time to write this update and recap how this whole journey is evolving.So here it is: the tumultuous love story between the (northbound) Thru-hiker and Maine. Elusive, unobtainable, tantalizing Maine.Thru-hiker, why did you go after Maine? You remember when you first heard about Maine. You were struck with an undeniable attraction, the same way when you meet someone who shares the same obscure interests as you and with whom the conversation flows so effortlessly, naturally. The more spiritually-oriented would claim that Maine was your soulmate while others would state that it was simply a matter of strong affinity. No matter: Maine lurked in your mind, day and night. However, this is a tragic story. The feeling was never mutual; Maine was sympathetic to you, but ultimately impassive vis- -vis your outpour of affection. Maine dismissed you and dimished your obsession with it to a temporary, fleeting interest.Many others have been stung by Maine's rejection, but you, Thru-hiker, could not stand it. You decided to set out and prove to Maine that you were sincere and that you were someone to be proud of, that you were worthy. Because hiking over 2,000 miles from Georgia was undoubtedly a confirmation of this, no?You hiked for so long, through the rain, snow, sleet and the heat. While you started hopeful and excited, you slowly realized that Maine was further than you anticipated. Not necessarily physically, but emotionally, Maine was beyond your grasp, never to belong to you. One can conceptualize life as a continuous unboxing of events where each new chapter is the direct result of any number of previous decisions. That is, all that you have done and accomplished has led you to this precise moment. You think about this a lot, Thru-hiker, especially when you are stuck under the pouring rain. You ask yourself repeatedly "how did I fuck up so badly that I felt the need to be here?" You feel fatigued. Maine is still an object of desire, but now a streak of anger is increasingly present in your thoughts. Maine is making your life difficult and it's going to ruin you. You hike more, with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Most of the time though, you have no idea why you are out here. It has become painfully obvious that other hikers who are stronger, faster, more efficient will surely make it to Maine and win Maine over. Of course, Maine would prefer those other hikers over you; even you can see why. This observation saddens and frustrates you. Yet you continue. At times, you believe that this journey, if it cannot get you to Maine, will at least incite some welcome transformation deep within you. You cite so many benefits this hike has had: more independant, more carefree, the camaderie, less constrained by societal expectations, more flexible, the challenge, more at peace... and while these may be true, they still seem superficial, like these reasons to have hiked all those miles are only obscuring the real, initial motivation.Even, you think, what would happen IF you reached Maine? The repercussions of quitting have been menacingly looming over you since day 1. You have gone to far to quit, yet have never envisioned what would happen if you got to Maine. Like a dog that chases a cat it can never catch. The dog bolts, as a reflex, towards the more nimble cat but one wonders what would happen if the dog succeeded. If you finally meet Maine, could you turn your back to it and continue living, self-satisfied and confident or would you always be haunted by Maine, forever corrupted by its charm?You still cannot articulate why you decided to abandon and sacrifice so much for Maine who doesn't really care for you. Your anwser is always on the tip of your tongue yet unspoken, in plain sight yet invisible.So, Thru-hiker, why are you hiking all the way to Maine?Because you are hopelessly in love with the idea, the fantasy of an unrealistic goal with no tangible bearings on real life, with no assured outcomes. A dream pursued that no single reason can justify.And why not, Thru-hiker.- Axon