Date: 2004-12-31
To: Rochester, MN
Miles today: 0.0

The new year is almost upon us. 2004 and my AT thru-hike is now history. What can I find that will fit into my schedule and financial state to make 2005 memorable? I've no idea but I'm working on it!!What follows are some excerpts from the 2-1/2 page spread the local newspaper printed in early December. I slaved over this article for weeks as I found it extremely difficult to put into words a summation of a 6-month journey, an experience that has changed me and my life so dramatically. (Ahhhh ... as I am writing this, Minnesota Public Radio is playing "The Swan" from Saint-Saens' Carnival of the Animals: George Ives, cellist, Leslie Pearson, pianist. How apropos. Where are my tissues?!)From the Rochester Post-Bulletin: "This year, 2004, an estimated 1,535 individuals attempted a thru-hike. By Neels Gap, GA, 30 miles from the southern terminus, 1,305 remained, an attrition of 15%. At milestone 161, Fontana Dam, NC saw 864 thru-hiking wannabes pass through, recording a total loss of 45%. In Harpers Ferry, WV, the emotional halfway point, 660 signed the register at the headquarters of the Appalachian Trail Conference, an additional 13% loss. Today the ATC reports that 289 ecstatic, albeit weary, thru-hikers successfully have walked nearly 2200 miles from Springer Mountain, GA to Baxter Peak, ME. I, Jan Matson, am overjoyed to say I am a part of that jubilant 18.8%. My summit of Katahdin, the final and most majestic mountain, occurred on Oct. 7, 11:20 EST. It was the culmination of a dream come true. It was the realization of an eight-year desire. It was the bittersweet end of six months of daily struggles, daily exultations, daily wonders, daily beauty and awesomeness. I laughed, I cried, I worried, I prayed, and yes, I even cussed a few times! Of the experience, one writer so aptly spoke: ¢Mother Nature lifted the stage curtains and performed for me, presenting the enormity of her glories.¢ Etched deeply into the fibers of my soul are such visual and aural gifts as a bounty of delicate mountain flowers, endless horizons, a doe and her day-old fawn, the call of the coyotes, the crashing of a cascading mountain stream after a rain, the warning of a rattlesnake too near, the buzz of the pesky mosquito, the call of the owl and whippoorwill, the tracks of a moose which charged down the hill only 10 feet from my tent during the night! Since Oct. 7 not a single day has passed without bringing to the forefront of my consciousness treasured memories of the trail.I do not have a plethora of extraordinary stories to tell. There were no dangerous encounters with animals or bad weather. Although it proved to be a journey of great spiritual growth, I had no unexplainable occurrences, no visions, no sightings of Heavenly beings. And still, the journey was replete with surprise, excitement, emotional challenge, and immense diversity. My AT thru-hike was an incredible experience, most definitely a highlight of my life. The lessons it presented to me were unique, bringing to my consciousness all imaginable emotions, the good and the bad. April 3rd I parted ways with my dear friend Ann and started up the Approach Trail to Springer Mountain, the southern terminus of the Appalachian Trail. My expectation was to slap on my backpack, walk 10-15 miles each day, enter a town for resupply one day a week, perhaps take a zero day in a cheap hostel, and head back to the woods, repeating this scenario 26 times.   Was I properly prepared for this adventure? Was I clear about why I was out here? Did I really know what it was upon which I was embarking or was I wearing blinders, riding on the tails of excitement and foolishness? Was I truly the person I thought I was: a determined, strong, over-achieving, positive woman or was I about to melt into a puddle of fear and discouragement, wimping out at the first moment of discomfort?Today I can answer those questions. Yes to all. I was properly prepared. Although I had minimal backpacking experience, and certainly no long-distance treks on my resume, I had done sufficient research on both the AT and on gear options.   With a day¢s worth of water and six days of food, I started my climb with 35 pounds on my back. It wasn¢t bad for a rookie but by the time I reached Maine, I had trimmed that same load to 25 pounds. Physically I was as fit as I could be, having no excess time to train beyond my daily trips to the health club.   Any injuries I suffered during my trek were a result of repetitive motion, not a lack of physical fitness. It is a plausible theory that I might have avoided knee and tendon stress had I begun with a lighter pack and held myself to only 7-8 miles a day the first week instead of the 12-14. But that¢s only a theory and hindsight is 20/20. And, to answer an oft-asked query: upon my return, the bathroom scale read the same as the day I left. But I dropped four dress sizes!I knew why I was taking this journey. After 24 years of devoting myself to family and career, I needed a sabbatical. I craved a break from life. I desired a new focus to release emotional and physical energy. The AT thru-hike was the perfect fit. Clarity, growth, strength, patience, tolerance, understanding were all values I hoped to possess and fine-tune by the time I summitted Katahdin in Maine. All of these and more I now own at a higher level than when I departed Georgia. But the process by which these came about was surprising. Assuming I¢d be wallowing in solitude and quiet I was surprised to find myself consumed by mental activity anything but conducive to reflection and contemplation. I was in survival mode, always considering the nearest water source, the nearest shelter, the next resupply source, the latest aches and pains. And still, as a friend observed over lunch last week, I did engage in a great deal of introspective self-evaluation while traversing these 2200 miles. Much of my belief system ballooned into unequivocal fact; other facets were dashed into nothingness as I discovered a more loving and peaceful way to live my life. The opportunity to pause and to think was good.And I am the person I had hoped. Admittedly, 2004 gave us the most perfect weather imaginable, which made it easy to stay in the woods. But even with the despair of an injured knee three days into my hike, even with the fears and uncertainties of what lay ahead, I never entertained the thought of packing it in and heading home. Twice I asked for permission to hate the trail, but it wasn¢t truly the trail I hated. I was tired of dealing with my fear of injury 24 hours a day. Twice on the trail I suffered from sleep deprivation. It was then my emotions, both the joys and fears, were uncontrollable. But I never would have quit. Never. It wasn¢t an option. Quitting was not a word in my vocabulary.Selective memory is a wonderful thing. To be able to forget the difficulties and pain is a gift.   Negotiating the terrain was challenging of course, but I knew that it would be. I wanted it to be. After all, I was climbing mountains!   For me the most difficult part of the AT were the Georgia and North Carolina mountains, mostly because I wasn¢t in trail shape as of yet. But I relished the physical exertion the terrain required. Amazingly I survived the friendly ridicule and tossed projectiles from my younger fellow hikers as I¢d pull into a shelter in the evening and exclaim ¢Wow!! Wasn¢t that a marvelous, invigorating climb?? I loved it!!¢ It is rumored I actually was heard saying ¢I¢ll never submit my body to such abuse again; I¢ll never again do a thru-hike of any sort.¢ Day 1 off the trail I nearly succumbed to a panic attack. Oddly enough it wasn¢t sparked by a fear of reentry into real life. Instead it was a dread of becoming a part of the cacophony we, as a developed society, have produced. I had just experienced the awesomeness, the power, the fragility and beauty of Mother Nature, had lived within the depths of the expansive vistas opened to me from the mountaintops, and I feared the encroachment of progress into what I now regarded as Holy Land. The weighty responsibility I felt to become part of the solution and not the problem was overwhelming.   Day 2 off the trail I was delighted not to have to hike. ¢Ursa,¢ I exclaimed to my hiking partner, ¢see those mountains over there? We don¢t have to climb them!!¢ Day 3 I was enjoying the good food and hospitality of my hosts for the week, still reveling in the joy and satisfaction of completing my goal. Day 4 I was searching the woods for white blazes. Day 5 I was ready to hit the trail once again. And today that remains my mindset: if possible and winter wasn¢t upon us, I¢d head back out tomorrow!One Thing, an amazing individual with whom I hiked in Maine, recites his mantra: ¢This One Thing I do and this One Thing I will do until I can say ¢this One Thing I have done¢.¢ Ah, it is with glorious elation that I am able to declare ¢This One Thing I have done!¢ My Appalachian Trail journey is now completed but the adventure continues. The trail continues to inspire me. Its lessons are seeping to the surface and slowly becoming a part of my daily existence. Life plays out its drama in the mere blink of an eye, a brief nanosecond of time. My thru-hike is the opening act, the first chapter; I don¢t want to miss the rest of the story. And so, with exhilaration, excitement, and exuberance, I make of the Universe but one inquiry --: ¢Next?!¢