Date: 2010-10-11
To: The Summit
Miles today: 0.0

On Thursday, September 23, Mom and I awoke early and left the hotel quickly, and were successful in our plan to get to the gate at Baxter State Park before it opened at 6. We got out of the car at Katahdin Stream Campground, both a bit nervous for the climb ahead. When we took one pre-hike picture, Mama Loose (who was given a trail name yesterday) actually looked fairly terrified. No matter, though. We laughed off the jitters and let our excitement take over as we picked back up the white-blazed trail and started on the remaining 5.2 miles of my journey. Along the way, we passed several campsites and lean-tos. One of them had a sign in the dirt saying, "Friends this way!" It was Yahtzee, Stretcher, Heads Up, and Eric the Red. We enjoyed a cheery hello and gratefully accepted the chocolate that ETR offered. Mom was grossed out by the idea of candy that early in the morning, but she did her duty and fueled up with a Reece's PB Cup. We headed on and signed in to begin our climb at 6:50 AM. The trail started nice and easy, just a very gentle climb to Katahdin Stream. The stream itself was splendid. It may have been the clearest, most enticing water I've seen on the whole trail. We crossed the stream and began our climb in earnest. At this point, it wasn't difficult terrain, but began to get a bit steep. Further up, the rocks turned into small boulders, and we found ourselves having to make a few trickier climbing moves. This was already a big challenge for Mama Loose, but little did we know- we hadn't seen nothin' yet! The climbing just got harder and harder, and when we emerged above treeline, the stakes were really raised. I have heard many people refer to Katahdin as the toughest climb on the whole trail. I knew how challenging much of the rest of New Hampshire and Maine had been, so I didn't see how it could possibly get any tougher. Boy, was I wrong! In my mind, Katahdin is undoubtedly the hardest climb of the trail. There may be individual spots or moves that were harder, but as a whole, Katahdin beats them all. The last mile before the tablelands (the flat portion before the last short climb to the summit) was absurd. It was exposed, very difficult, relentless climbing. Just when we thought it had to ease up soon, we came to Hunt Spur, where we could clearly see The Gateway above us- a quarter mile or so of giant boulders that went almost straight up. Many times, Mama Loose said that had she known how hard it was going to be, she wouldn't have decided to climb the "Big K." Similarly, I agreed that had I really understood the difficulty level, I wouldn't have felt it a good idea to suggest that my 58-year-old mother (cool, though she is!) attempt it.Although the climb was crazy, we just took it one step at a time and eventually found ourselves on the tablelands. The look on Mama Loose's face when she climbed over the last bit of The Gateway and emerged onto the tablelands was one of such self-satisfaction that I swelled with pride for both of us. We strolled across the flat trail, still exhausted, but exhilarated. I soon came to a point where I could see little people up on the summit and could make out the famed Katahdin sign itself. This was really happening! We hiked on, up the last climb, and before I knew it, I was there. I had really done it. This fact didn't really sink in and just seemed bizarre at the time, and even now, I can't quite wrap my brain around that moment. I went directly to the sign, glad that no one was in the middle of photo session, and fell against it, full of relief, satisfaction, and a whole jumble of emotions that I still don't quite understand. There were many friends on the summit, and we all laughed, danced, and celebrated together. Some had been ready to go back down, but had waited for us, knowing that we weren't far behind. We took a wonderful group picture of all the thru-hikers up there at the moment. I calmed down enough to eat lunch and threw one of the Lindor truffles I had brought to each of the thru-hikers. Mom and I popped our tiny bottle of champagne (of course, I just had to shake it first), thanks to a day hiker who had a bottle opener, since we forgot one. (Oops!) We popped it in front of the sign and got photos of the occasion. I couldn't get cell service up top to text or call Dad or Braids. We eventually started in on our photo sessions. They took forever, but I had a blast taking these pictures I had imagined taking for years. I couldn't quite believe that any of this was really happening. But, apparently it did. Though I never made an actual count, I was told that 18 thru-hikers were summitting that day. Friday and Saturday had ugly forcasts with lots of rain, so several hikers had trekked very long days on Wednesday to get there for a Thursday summit. We were some of the first to start that day, but pretty much everyone passed us on the way up. We were slow and steady (which clearly served us well!). Pretty early in the climb, I passed a surprising hiker. He had started VERY early with a couple of others and was on his descent. It was Ron Burgundy, who I met back in Georgia at Plum Orchard Gap Shelter and had not seen since the Smokies. What a cool surprise!!! I would like to express my gratitude towards Stucco that day. She has always been sweet and wonderful, but that day, she was extra amazing. When we came to the first REALLY exposed section above treeline, Mama Loose was not excited. The terrain ahead was exactly the type of stuff that was scariest to her, and she was determined to go on, but really had no clue how she was going to make it. Realizing that me hiking in front of or behind her each had its downside, I asked Stucco if she would mind hanging with us to get through that section. She didn't hesitate and led our little train of three up the mountain over the scariest parts. She was so encouraging and supportive, and I'm really not sure how we would have done it without her. Thank you so much, Stucco!!! After the group shots, lunch, and my personal photo shoot, pretty much all of the thru-hikers except us had started their descent. I thought that surely I couldn't possibly meet any other NOBOs on this final climb, but of course, I thought wrong. Before we headed down, we were joined by FOUR other thru-hikers who I had never met before that moment. The trail is a strange, strange place. Eventually, we started our descent, back down the Hunt Trail (the AT). I wasn't too thrilled about hiking my exhausted body back down after finishing my thru-hike, but since I didn't see the magical slide I had fantasized about, that seemed to be the only choice. The Gateway was almost as hard to go down as it was to go up, but at least the physical exertion wasn't as bad. We made it up in 5 hours and down in 3 hours and 40 minutes. Pretty darned good for a day's work. We emerged at the bottom and signed out, completely drained physically and emotionally, but with confidence and sheer grit soaring through our veins. Dazed, I signed the last official register in the rangers' station, and we drove out of the park, finished! The rest of the night was, again, a blur. We went straight to the AT Cafe for dinner, a celebratory beer, and to sign the famous ceiling tiles. Hikers were everywhere, including Little Aspen and Toothpick who would (and did) summit that Sunday with their friends and family. I could feel my body begin to shut down after months of insane physical and emotional exhaustion. It would take me several days to recover from this and feel like a normal person. One of the last things I did before going to bed that night? I gleefully shaved my legs and underarms for the first time in over 6 months! That signaled to me that it wasn't a dream, I was really done. More on this to come when I can put my thoughts together, but my mantra has now become: "I'm an AT thru-hiker; I can do ANYTHING!"