Date: 2006-09-15
From: Katahdin Stream Campground

To: KATAHDIN
Miles today: 0.0
Weather: overcast clouds

This last entry is modified from Stephen King's Dark Tower series. (The last of seven.) I read the whole series on my trip and thought this entry- slightly modified- was perfect.   "The road and the tale have been long, would you not say so? The trip has been long and cost has been high... but no great thing was ever attained easily. A long tale, like a tall mountain, must be built a stone at a time. Now, however, as the end draws closer, you must mark two travelers walking towards us with great care. The woman- she with the shorts and small backpack- is in the lead. The other on- he with oversized bamboo hiking stick and small backpack- is walking behind her. They are climbing a long gently upsloping hill not much different from hundreds of others they have climbed. The trail they followed is lined on either side with rocks, wild mosses and lichen grow in amiable profusion amid the tumbles of fieldstone. In the open, brush dotted land beyond the trail not much can be seen. Clouds had moved in and obscured every view.   Never mind. It's not rocks and mosses we've come to observe near the end of our long journey, but the male backpacker slowly climbing the hill. We stand at the crest of the hill and wait as he comes towrds us. He comes. And comes. Relentless as ever, he is a man who would laugh at the stupidest of jokes. Much has changed about him, but not that. He crests the hill, so close to us now we can smell the tang of his sweat. He looks up, a quick and automatic glance he shoots first ahead and then to either side- you can often see where the Trail will go by the lay of the land. He looks up without interest, looks down...and stops. After a moment of staring at the rocky, weed infested part of the Trail, he looks up again, more slowly this time. Much more slowly. As if in dread of what he has seen.    And it's here we must join him- sink into him- although how one will ever can the vantage of Grey Fox's heart at a moment such as this, when the single minded goal of his (and other thru hikers)lifetime(s) at last comes into sight, is more than this poor excuse for a story-man can ever tell. SOME MOMENTS ARE BEYOND IMAGINATION.   Grey Fox glanced up quickly as he topped the hil, not because he expected to see something but because the habit was too deeply ingrained to break. He looked back down at the Trail- it was becoming more and moredifficult to navigate the rocks without tripping, although he had managed the trick so far- and then, belatedly, realized what he had just seen.   What you though you saw, Grey Fox told himself, still looking down at the Trail. It's probably another of those rock cairns we've been passing ever since we started moving again.    But even then Grey Fox knew it wasn't so. What he had seen was not the normal rock cairn showing Tortoise and he the Trail, it was something else entirely.    He looked up again, hearing his neck creak like hinges in an old door, and there, only a few hundred yards ahead, real as roses, was the top of Katahdin. That which he had seen in a thousand dreams he now saw with his living eyes. Sixty or eighty yards ahead, the trail rose to a higher hill with six to eight Thruhikers on one side and a few dayhikers on the other. At the center of this near horizan, a black shape rose in the near distance, blotting out a tiny portion of the sky.    Tortoise came to a stop in front of Grey Fox and made a gasping sound.    "There it is." Tortoise said. Her voice barely audible, cracked with amazement."   Ok ok, I know it's a little silly to compare my thruhike to a Stephen King book....but....uhhh....shuddap!   Summit day was amazing. Not anything like what I had imagined. There were plenty of good friends, lots of good times. Strange thing was, finishing didn't really hit me. I hiked down the mountain, mostly alone, and drove to a hotel with my brother and dad and still was just kinda normal.       I tell you when it hit me, and it was kinda sad. Some of us met and ate supper together at the Appalachian Cafe. Afterwards Tortoise and her mother (La Tortuga Mia) drove me back to the hotel. We stopped at a Rite Aid to buy some ice cream and thats where it happened. In the worst place possibly imaginable, Tortoise and I had to say goodbye.    When you spend a lot of time with someone for months, you can get to know them fairly well. When you spends months hiking over the tougest terrain on the east coast with someone, you develop a bond that isn't found in many places in today's world.    Tortoise and I joked about the silly place that we were gonna have to say goodbye. Even with the sillyness, it was a sad moment. I had thought about what i wanted to say, but couldn't get it out because I knew it would make me cry. I guess I'll have to tell you later Tortoise. As it was, we hugged, saying we were going to miss each other. I fumbled a kiss on her cheek. Then walked away saying "Goodnight you princess of Maine, you queen of New England." And then I broke. I was thinking about what I wanted to say, what I should of said, and how I was gonna miss Tortoise, our friends, and the Trail. So the walk back to the hotel room was a tear filled one. I wish I could of spent one more night hanging out with Tortoise and saying goodbye- but I suppose all the time in the world wouldn't be enough to say goodbye to such a wonderful person.    Now I'm done, and it just seems like some sort of beautiful dream.