Date: 2004-11-29
From: Hawk Moutain

To: Springer Mtn.
Miles today: 7.3
Weather: scattered clouds

So I'm done now.I walked up Springer yesterday at about 11. Sat on the summit for a while. Waited for someone to come by and take my picture. Called my family. Thought about not hiking any more for a while. It's odd being done; the finality of it hasn't set in yet, I guess. From seeing people finish on Katahdin, and hearing people talk about finishing on Springer, I was half expecting to burst into tears as soon as I got up to the plaque. Nothing like that happened; just a mild sense of relief at not having to put my knees through so much grief any more. I didn't really have any big epiphanies on the trail. I wonder if that means that I wasn't spending enough thinking, or that there wasn't a whole let about myself that spending a bunch of time alone hiking could teach me. I was kind of disappointed; it would have been nice to have a light from the heavens, clouds parting and celestial music type insight come to me on the trip.Don't get me wrong...it was an amazing walk. It was about the best way I could think of to spend six months of your life. I saw incredible beauty and met amazing people; I experienced humbling kindness from total strangers and I willed myself through physical and mental adversities. The trail was hard and the trail was rewarding. Maybe I was expecting too much and looking too hard for some kind of miraculous insight; maybe the insight will come a while from now when I'm not thinking so hard about it.There's not a whole lot I can say to sum up the experience that hasn't been said already. It's humbling to realize that for five months, everything I needed to be happy was in my head and in 30 pounds on my back. The rest of my stuff, that's scattered in Missouri, DC and Durham is nice, but has been proven superfluous to my happiness. The scale of the trail was something that will forever amaze me. If you started in Memphis and walked the same mileage west, you'd end up in San Francisco. And I walked all of it. The trail will be one of those things that I'll compare to hardships I encounter in my life. Surely if I can walk 20 miles a day and live in the woods for six months subsisting on Ramen and pepperoni, I can get through whatever's in front of me. On a random side note, 20 miles is nearly 80% of a marathon. I was doing that every day (albeit at a slower pace) with 30 pounds of stuff on my back, up and down over mountains on uneven terrain. With as lazy as I am, I'm amazed I was able to do it.Being able to drink water that doesn't taste like iodine, and not poop in holes is incredible: I will never take indoor plumbing for granted again.The community on the trail is something that I am thankful to have experienced. The insane amounts of generosity bestowed upon me and all the thru-hikers is something that went a long way in restoring my faith in humanity...it's amazing to contemplate. Sodas and beer in coolers, rides to and from the trail, getting fed at strangers' houses, the time volunteers put into maintaining the trail: it all reminds you that there are so many good people who are willing to help if given the opportunity. Perhaps one of the most amazing things about being on the trail is that you're constantly surrounded by people who are doing something they love. No one is there because they have to be. There's heat, cold, wet, stink, hunger and hurt (and man, is there a lot of hurt - knees, feet, thighs, calves, ankles, back) to deal with. In spite of all that, everyone is still there, and everyone is still having a good time. Where else can you go that everyone around you is fantastically, head-over-heels smitten with what they're doing? Being around people who are pursuing their dreams is good for the soul. I'm hanging out in Atlanta Adele's place, who's doing her best to make time to hang out despite her finals schedule. Atlanta is quite a shock to the system after being in the woods for so long. The traffic is crazy...all those cars, all moving so fast. So much different than hiking. The commercialism is pretty jarring too, especially coming off the trail in the height of the Christmas craziness. The real world is going to take some getting used to. Advice for people who are thinking about doing the trail: do it. You'll carry around the adventures and experiences with you for the rest of your life. This story isn't 100% applicable, but I'm going to shoe-horn it in anyway, because it somewhat sums up the reasoning behind going.When Steve Jobs was wooing John Sculley to get him to leave Pepsi to go to Apple, they had a series of personal meetings. They got to know each other well, and Steve was a convincing pitchman, but Sculley still had doubts. Finally, Jobs laid it all on the table in their last meeting, and left Sculley to ponder. On the way out, Jobs delivered the final blow: "Do you want to sell sugar water for the rest of your life, or do you want a chance to change the world?" And that's what it comes down to. Just get out there and make the commitment to yourself to do it. Life is too short not to have adventure, challenge, excitement, and wonder in your life.And here's another random story that seems to fit the occasion. I was walking up Blood Mountain two days ago, listening to my walkman and thinking about how incredible the trail experience has been. A song came on that crystallized my thoughts at the time, and really sum up the whole experience of a thru-hike:Scars heal, glory fadesand all that's left are the mem'ries made.Pain hurts, but only for a minute.Life is short so go on and live it'Cause the chicks dig it.