Date: 2015-08-13
From: Monson Maine

To: Stratton, ME
Miles today: 73.7
Weather: few clouds

Hi, this is Box Turtle "speaking" from the public library in Stratton, Maine. I hope that any readers by now understand that Mr. Box Turtle, or "El Loco" as he was known to some on the trail (when he joined me), writes nearly all of these entries, even though the website automatically signs them at the end with "Box Turtle." Your clue that Box Turtle, herself, is writing is when 1) I say so and 2) the entry is long and wordy. I am going for informative but pithy, but that is hard when one has not read a book, been online, or even talked to another person about anything besides food or "gear" for a few weeks...which is when I think I made my last post.Maine is busting my butt! On Katahdin, and then somewhere into the 100-mile wilderness, the hiking changed to climbing a significant part of the time--that is, hand over hand, pulling yourself up over rocks or, conversely, easing yourself down them with the help of nearby trees and rock handholds. OK when things are dry; not so good when wet and slick. I'm a pretty strong hiker; as a climber, I'm not as confident. I've had to tell myself that the goal is to finish the AT, not to finish it by a certain day. That going slowly through southern Maine and the White Mountains is to be preferred to quitting because I can't hike as fast as I thought I might. It's actually a useful exercise in deciding what's important and learning to give up competing with the other people out there who are younger/stronger/more driven, and accept my own limitations while at the same time push myself. When I'm in a groove and have some rhythm going, the hiking & climbing is a little like dancing (though not any particular step like the Foxtrot!), because you are using your whole body--turning your feet this way and that, twisting your torso, reaching your arms everywhere; it is just terrific, whole-body exercise. The men out here all lament the loss of upper body strength and make funny jokes about having legs like logs and arms like toothpicks. It's true, my (formerly shapely) breasts are now sad little sacks while my (formerly flabby) thighs are now pistons of power! That said, for me just hauling my pack on and off all day and pulling myself up rocks has kept my arms in fine condition, and something about the hiking has totally firmed up my abs. But Box Turtle digresses about her fine physique...Have I mentioned before the flood of endorphins, which I guess is what is behind the feeling of intense happiness and creativity that occurs every morning about half an hour into the trail day, when it seems that you could accomplish anything, if only you weren't stuck hiking on the Appalachian Trail?! I find it extraordinary. (Alas, later in the day, you are back to being Cinderella in the attic.) However, lately in Maine it has seemed almost too difficult and tedious. I have had thoughts about just skipping the rest of Maine and New Hampshire to get back to walking in the woods. But early on, I was advised never to consider quitting on a day in town, and sure enough, that is when I have those thoughts. Once back out on the trail, I feel grateful and glad more than anything else. As Mr. Box Turtle has reported, the scenery has been fabulous, and all the better for being continuous, all day and all night, not just an afternoon drive's worth of scenery. I've thought that I could have paid an outfitter thousands of dollars to have taken me on a trip a fraction of this length and breadth. There is no question for me, though, that this is an extreme undertaking, one that I will neither regret nor repeat. I'm completely baffled by the dozen or more people I've met who are hiking the trail for the second or even third time. There is something (maybe many things) that are very weird about this. It is more the lifestyle of a monk, or perhaps a prisoner, than that of a normal person exercising free will. I'm still comfortable with my choice to hike without trekking poles; I reason I've had a few more instances of not falling because the poles weren't in the way or stuck than I have had of falling because I didn't have poles to support me. That said, the pounding on the knees is terrific going downhill steeply with the pack (about 28-32 pounds) and I credit genetics and Mom's good childhood nourishment for giving me strong and, so far injury-free, knees and other joints, bones and muscles. In fact, I haven't had any health problems at all so far, other than garden-variety soreness at day's end, and a lot of bruises. Once again, I apologize for the lack of funny anecdotes and snapshots of trail life, at which Box Turtle is not so good! I hope I have at least suggested something of the zen-like, meditative quality of hiking day after day, sometimes in front of, or behind, someone else and sometimes alone. A little weird, yes, but also wonderful! Big, turtle-y hugs and kisses to all my friends and family. And warm wishes to any hikers I've met who may have stumbled upon this journal. So many great hikers out there!