Date: 2015-08-20
From: The Birches Shelter

To: Mt. Katahdin, ME
Miles today: 5.2
Weather: broken clouds

It's complete. My 2,189.2-mile journey from Springer Mountain, GA to Mt. Katahdin, ME. I decided not to journal yesterday in hopes that I'd be able to digest and better express my feelings. It may not be perfect not do it justice, but I'll so my best.After my final restless night on the trail, I'd "awake" at 5:30am to the shuffling of everyone else. It turns out no one got much sleep, most likely due to the anticipation of what we were about to do. Breakfast was had and conversation exchanged, but in a more mellow kinda way. We knew this would be our last of such mornings dating back ~4.5 months. Even Yogi and Steam, who would be summiting and finishing their 62-mile section hike starting in the 100-mile wilderness, seemed to understand the quiet, unspoken emotions we were each privately going through. I ate what was I hope the last pop tart of my life, slowly packed, and made my way with the guys to the ranger station a couple hundred yards away. Having only slack-packed ~2 miles of the trail in southern PA, I decided that dropping some gear for my final climb wouldn't haunt me - a decision I'd ultimately be glad I made.Out with my tent and extra clothes, the feeling of my 20lb pack was almost unnoticeable. We were soon shaking hands with Yoohoo's parents who made their way in from Miami, FL the night before. His father planned to spend the day summiting with him while his mother would enjoy taking pictures and enjoying the outdoors a bit closer to sea level. We were taken to their vehicle where, waiting in an ice-chilled cooler were Coke's, Yoohoo's, and lunch meat to make ourselves sandwiches. We each enjoyed a sandwich and Yoohoo followed by, of course, a Coke for me. We were then presented with a couple of amazing congratulatory gifts from Mr. and Mrs. Yoohoo in the form of a miniature bottle of champagne and a Cuban cigar. With rain in the forecast, I chose to leave the cigar behind, but happily snuck the champagne into my pack. We made our way to the start of our final climbed, signed a register, and began our hike. Er, well after I made a quick detour back out of the woods to a privy for a last-second deuce. Last climb jitters, I guess.Ok, finally on to the climb. While Yoohoo and his dad gradually made their way up and Huey fell into his own rhythm, Rabbit and I were off to the races for no other reason than our bodies allowing us to. Upwards we pushed like tremendous machines, passing the crystal clear cascades of Katahdin Stream Falls, and blazing by groups of day hikers slowly zigzagging their away among the ever increasing boulders. We'd eventually catch and pass Yogi and Steam, making awesome time of their own, as they breaked along the steep trail. Flat would give way to incline which turned into rocks, then walls of rock that would have to be navigated around. Just over halfway up, upon exiting the cover of trees, the trail would become more of a labyrinth of rocks and boulders and less of a trail. A section close to a half-mile or greater in length, dubbed "The Gateway," would require the most technical climbing of the entire trail. Several parts would require leaping, dangling, and heaving of your body up, over, and around large rock slabs. One part in particular would require 100% commitment of leaving the ground as you pulled yourself up a large rock wall, the only help provided coming in the form of a small metal hook sticking out from the rock. If you let go or slipped off of this, it meant a solid 10ft drop back to the hard rocks below.Combine this techincal stretch with light rain, fog, and sustained winds of ~20mph and it makes for a very dangerous, yet kick ass sendoff. It was during this stretch that I pulled away from Rabbit and would spend the last couple of miles battling driving wind and slippery Rock faces alone as I neared the ridge that would lead me to Baxter Peak and the northern Terminus of the AT. I eventually crested the last of the vertical climbs and entered the exposed rocky ridge known as the "Tableland." I made my way along the foggy summit, beat by strong winds occasionally making me stumble to the side, occasionally interrupted by an erie silence in between waves of wind. After what seemed one of the longest yet quickest miles of the trail, I reached a point where the silhouette of the wooden sign atop the peak signifying my journey's end could be made out. The shadowy figures of other hikers could also be seen moving around nearby. As happy as I was for the finish line to literally be in sight, part of me wished the trail would continue forever. After just over 2 hours of climbing, I was down to my final minutes.I slowly approached and, as I did so, I noticed the familiar smile of Mosey as she stood beside the wooden sign smiling as a group of day hikers took her picture. She looked happy, accomplished, and wet. The old bird did it, damnit. Not that I didn't expect or want her to, but more of the way she did it. Leapfrogging her every few days since Pennsylvania, you'd think someone moving her pace would've taken much longer, but she was steady and consistent. I told her well done as she made began making her way back down the mountain, the convoy of day-hikers following close behind. I remained still, as if my feet were in cement, in my spot about 10ft away and just below the sign. Even with wind howling and a light rain falling, I stood there oblivious to the fact that I was soaked and my moments of being warm from my effort up the mountain was limited. I walked over to the sign, sat down in front of it, and did what I now see was perhaps the most masculine thing I could've done after such a journey. I cried. And, just like that, my AT hiking days were over. I stood up to find Rabbit standing quietly nearby, perhaps in a state of uncertainty as well, and kissed the sign before walking away so Rabbit could enjoy his own private moment. After a few minutes I returned to the sign to snap 2 quick pictures before putting my gadget away as the rain picked up.Rabbit and sat in a low spot a little below the sign, using the surrounding rocks as a wind buffer. The attempt failed, however, as we soon found ourselves shivering uncontrollably in the cold wind. Yogi and Steam arrived soon after and enjoyed their moment after completing their section as well as the climb up Katahdin. I grabbed a few pictures of them as they stood along the sign, their sense of accomplishment evident from their grins and flexing. I did my best trying to still my shaking hands in order to capture the moment for them. I'm pretty sure I succedded, or they were too kind to tell me otherwise. A large black raven appeared and sat on a rock within 5ft of Rabbit and I, quietly staring at us in hopes of food or 1 of us to keel over. I had hopes of enjoying a Coke atop the summit, but the conditions forced me to reconsider and instead begin making my way back down the mountain. Rabbit and I had hoped to wait for Huey's arrival, but would instead pass him within a quarter mile as we shivered along past him.Once again I would pull away from Rabbit as I began my second trip through the rocky gauntlet of slick slabs and treacherous dropoffs. Trekking poles were deemed worthless and would spend the next couple hours being tossed down the mountain ahead of me. I'd eventually encounter Yoohoo and his father, not yet halfway up the mountain, just below the section of dangerous climbing. I unfortunately suggested that Mr. Yoohoo not continue and instead turn around and allow Yoohoo to summit alone due to time restraints and difficulty ahead. Yoohoo had really been looking forward to summiting with his father, but they'd both listen to my suggestion which I think was the best decision for both. In just under 3 hours of slowly making my way down, I strolled back into Katahdin base camp ad it was complete. The following few hours would be spent waiting for the others to return - first Rabbit, followed by Yogi and Steam, and finally Huey. After several failed attempts by the girls to score us a lift into Millinocket, they finally impressed us by succeeding. The 5 of us crammed into a car designed comfortably for 4 and were taken several miles to the park entrance. Sardined together with 2 girls we met the night before, Rabbit and I made convo with them, pretending we didn't wish the ride was many miles longer. We eventually scored another ride and whisked away from our home in the woods and into the town of Millinocket, seemingly still around due the funds received from hikers each year.Tonight and tomorrow will be spent at the AT Lodge, a large home converted into a series of several small rooms with many beds for hikers recently finishing or nearing the finish of their journeys. Showers were had and Rabbit, Huey, Wilson, Yogi, Steam, and I made our way to the Scootic where we'd all enjoy a fine dinner with a bowl of accomplishment for dessert. We each enjoyed a healthy portion of adult beverages, maybe a drink or 2 shy of stumbling back to the hostel, but it was well deserved. It's been a pleasure getting to know both Yogi and Steam in the small window of time we're able to share with them. In a couple days we'll all be going in our own direction as we return to our own versions of what most people call reality.So there it is, folks. The journey of 1 hiker's AT thru-hike. I can't thank all my readers enough for their continued support. Over the past ~4.5 months I've received a steady inflow of love, comments, likes, and more kind words than I deserved for simply making the choice to hike each day. I won't begin to individually thank everyone, even though I'd love to, because I know I'd ultimately leave some out. Please know that every like, comment, message, care package, trail magic, trail maintenance, hitches, hostel or hotel owner, advice, directions, and especially the countless waiters and waitresses that kept my Coke topped off, etc. was appreciated more than you can imagine. It was this support, both from on and off the trail, that really reaffirmed my faith in humanity and showed me just how kind people can be to complete strangers if you just make the effort.It was these types of thoughts, as I stood at nearly a mile high atop Katahdin and in the hours since, that I'll remember most. The trail provided me with more jaw-dropping views, wildlife, near hits and misses, and amazing weather than I could ever hope to shake a stick at. It was these moments I'll remember most come some cold December or January day. It's the undeserved care and support from followers, however, I'll remember for the rest of my life. I feel blessed beyond measure to have had such a support system, to have met countless of amazing, strong, inspiring hikers, and to have befriended the handful of awesome hikers who I spent countless hours battling terrain, weather, bugs, mud, and chaffing with. The ones who motivated me, opened themselves up to me, joked and argued with me, pigged out with me, and shared in the countless number of experiences with me. Most have already completed their journeys; some will be finishing shortly. Over the next couple of weeks and months, several hundred more hikers will find themselves atop Mt. Katahdin, hopefully experiencing their own version of what they were looking for or hoping to get out of it. Every hiker's hike is unique to themselves so I encourage you all, if interested, find more hikers to follow and show them your support. Live vicariously through them. Enjoy with them their highs and sink with them in their lows. Understand they are individuals attempting something much bigger than themselves. Even though the trail isn't as "wild" as it might've once been, it's still 2,189.2 miles of ass-kicking terrain and life-changing.Did it change me? Yes, I'm sure of it, though it may not become apparent how until more time has passed. Did I maybe hope for an "ah-ha" moment, transitioning from a former version of myself into some new improved, perhaps better self? Sure. Did it happen? No, not exactly. I realized that change, like the trail, is a process. And you know what? I'm OK with that. I've come to appreciate the life of slow and I hope what and who I become post-trail is a drawn out reminder of my time in the woods. For now, I come out of the woods not from injury, nor fear, nor failure, but by choice. I'm ready to kick back, enjoy a coold beer with loved ones, and share my stories. I'm ready for rest. For my feet not to hurt. For stairs not to be seen as obstacles again. I can assure you, however, that my itch for adventure will only remain dormant for so long. It will return and, when it does, I now have the confidence to run with it, wherever it may lead me. I hope you'll all join me again next time.My advice to all of you reading this? Find a dream and hold onto it. Whatever it might be, find something you're passionate about and pursue it. It's like with a fire: it may start small, but if you slowly feed it, allow it to breathe, and you stick with it, it'll soon reach a point where you can let that SOB burn as you step back and enjoy with a childlike giddiness for your creation. Also, just as important if not unrelated, I offer 3 things I take away from my months in the woods: 1) Don't be afraid to surprise yourself. 2) Never quit on an uphill. 3) Don't ever trust a fart in the back country.For now, folks, I leave you with the words of a former thru-hiker that summarize these past several months far more beautifully than I ever could. His name is Johren:"More than just a footpath from Georgia to Maine. It's a rock-scramble, a puddle-jumper, a green-tunnel, a life-changer. It teaches you that fun isn't always easy and hard never means quit. Sometimes you feel like it's breaking you down, but you push through and discover that it's actually building you up. Making you stronger, tougher, and hungrier than you've been in your life. It's Jacob's Ladder, the Smokies, the White's, and the Bigelows. It's gaps in the south and notches in the north. It gives you a mountain top all to yourself. Or a shelter filled with friends. And it gives you simplicity. It makes you realize that angels don't always have wings. Sometimes they have sodas and sandwiches. And that there are still a lot of really good people in the world and you want to be counted as one of them. At the end of each day you are more exhausted, dirty, and alive than you have ever been before. It is truly an adventure of a lifetime, but not THE adventure of a lifetime. It doesn't stop there. There is just the beginning. It has prepared you. So go for it."Cheers and God bless.-Cambo(AT Thru-Hiker '15)