Date: 2007-09-15
From: Harper's Ferry

To: Bear's Den Hostel VA
Miles today: 20.5

Lesson for the day, possibly biggest lesson of the whole trip: "home" has nothing to do with where you are.Last night and today, I was home, though in Harper's Ferry, a physical place I've never been to before. 'Home' is being surrounded by the people you care about. I knew it would be sad to leave my folks, and I didn't even think about it until now, on top of the ridge (WV/VA border). I felt like stopping, and now I'm just sitting here for a minute or so to collect my thoughts. Had to write this down to remind me later of how I felt. Made it to the Bear's Den hostel, very nice btw. Wow, what a day. Hanging out with my parents was great. We didn't do anything spectacular, just ate, drank, went to sleep, ran errands, and then I was on my way. However, that's precisely what I wanted, just relaxing and enjoying their company. It was interesting to me to think about how sad it was to leave them; when I left them in Maine, I was sad because I really could've just gone home then and abandoned the whole thru-hike thing. Now though, their departure was sad because I know I will still be on this trip until the end. Sadness is an emotion which is a little different with each situation. You try to recognize it for what it is and move on, if you can. Barring injury or unforeseeable circumstances, I WILL see Springer.This entire discourse makes me think about the trip as a whole. Dad asked me an important question: "If you had to do it all again, knowing what you know now, would you still go?" My short answer was "Of course not. It's too big." It's not like I don't have anything to do. I was very active in school, with a thousand things I should be doing even as we speak. In all honesty it's asking a lot of yourself to complete such a task, and not to get big-headed or anything, but this is the craziest long-term adventure I've ever done. And the hardest.Another interesting follow on question is "would you do a second thru-hike?" Ummm, I think so, but only after I have secured WAY more funds. If I were to go again, I wouldn't be spending much more, but I would most definitely allocate enough so that I would NEVER have to worry about spending too much. That's such a bummer to know how little you have and how much you're flat-out wasting. Ha!Anyways, the point I'm going for is: I'm glad I didn't know what it's like in advance (i.e., what it's REALLY like), because I might not have started, and then I would've missed all this. I've read all the books, talked with others who did it or long sections, and it's just not the same as being out here yourself. You will not know what's it like 'til you've walked the walk. Sorry.Funny thing is, the second or any subsequent thru-hike will NEVER be like the first. Much like the first 'impressions' of anything. Now you KNOW what to expect. You fully understand the ups and downs. And the element of freshness or naivety or surprise will not be there. The overall concept of a thru-hike is really not rational, especially considering the pain and hardships, and no sane person would ever attempt it based on facts and statistics. That said, it's been the greatest life event ever for me and I've loved every second, even the miserable bottom-of-the-barrel days.Little side trip here. Unless I'm totally off-base, I can't think of any other culture other than our Euro-American current heritage in the entire history of the world that doesn't have a recognized right of passage for becoming a man. In America for example, at age 16 or thereabouts you can drive, at 18 you can vote, be a soldier, smoke cigars and watch horrible movies, ¢¦ but you can't get boozed up until age 21.I'm not dinging these rules (today), But its a fact that there's no one point, no single definable moment at which you are given the respect, the responsibilities, and in all other aspects officially considered an adult. Naaa, let's keep it awkward. But I'm more and more coming to understand that this trip is my "being sent off into the woods with a knife and not returning without the skin of a lion", that is, my rite-of-passage. Thus, even in the rough parts of the day-to-day AT grind, you still grow as a person. Perhaps a lot more than when the skies are clear.Oh, and by the way, I figured out all this stuff about hiker bickering. It's called "trail drama". This is the stupidest thing since 'mud pies' (like, the word pie implies that you might want to actually eat it), and it's getting better every day. Once you realize that, you back away from the drama kings and queens, and start to laugh. Really laugh. Laugh out loud. Now I certainly love a good gossip session, and quite often I'm dead-to-rights the focus of the day's hot chatter. But by now we hikers have all gotten so involved with each other that everybody is in everybody else's business and it's worse than a bunch of middle-school girls talking about how Karen's so slutty because she wears blue eyeliner and she and Johnny did this or that and, ¢¦ Hopefully, and soon, all the thru-hikers will run out of pee and the contest will be over.Somebody will win, somebody will have yellowblazed past the winner, most will stop caring, and the rest will most likely be the ones who are still whining (and they are the ones who don't respect themselves -- or even matter).Boy, I'm feeling better about stuff and so should you.Thanks for reading.   ~ Dr Jekyll (Obie)PS: ¢¦ 'home' is where the heart is, ¢¦