Date: 2005-12-05
To: ...and going...
Miles today: 0.0

To the contrary of my recent admission, professing my devilish delight in keeping you in suspense, I¢m actually just as frustrated as you are that I don¢t seem to be making much headway in the telling of this story. Okay, well, ¢just as frustrated¢ may be a bit of an exaggeration, b/c, unlike you, I¢m actually privy to all of the little details of the untold, upcoming events b/c, hey, well, I¢ve lived ¢em. You want retribution? Then go hike the trail yourself, experience your own set of adventures, and you can torture me by relating them excruciatingly slowly. ¢K? But, ¢til then, sorry, you¢re stuck w/ what you got. But, in all seriousness, again despite appearances, I really do want to tell the tale of Summit Day. I readily confess that, for quite a while, quite a long while, I didn¢t want to. I didn¢t want to revisit Summit Day, and certainly not in minute detail. B/c reliving it would only serve to emphasize the fact that it was in the past, it had already happened. Summit Day was over. And I definitely didn¢t need a reminder of that. The Freak-Out that I described, in the days leading up to Summit Day? Well, it was mirrored by the Freak-Out I experienced in the days following Summit Day. And my desire to suspend reality was as strong, if not stronger, post-Katahdin as it was pre-. Not thinking about it, not dwelling on it, was¢¦ safe. It kept away the ache of missing the trail. Missing that life. Missing the Pod.But now, either due to my perspective becoming unclouded by the lens of time, or b/c I attained some Zen-like tranquil acceptance of reality, or maybe simply b/c I¢m afflicted w/ such a severe case of Springer Fever (and it¢s not even close to March yet¢¦) -- I no longer want to play hide-and-seek w/ reality. I want to re-live Summit Day, to revisit every step of the way up Katahdin, every aspect of the perfection of that day, from that unbelieveable blue sky, to the rolling sea of clouds below us, to finally coming to stand before The Sign, to being there, w/ all of the people that meant so much to me, that defined this journey. And I want to share it all. B/c, it was so magical. It wasn¢t even the realization of my ideal Summit Day, b/c it so far exceeded anything I might have imagined, by such a wide margin, that my dreams were just pale, black-and-white sketches compared to the reality of it. And, it was just so¢¦ fantastic that, although I yearn to tell of it, although the words bottled inside me create a physical ache in their desire to spew forth; at the same time, I don¢t want to diminish any aspect of that day, by rushing into the telling of it. B/c, it wasn¢t just one day; it was the climax of the whole journey; it encapsulated so many single, seemingly unrelated, events and experiences into this¢¦ amazing conclusion, this finale that Hollywood could never script. But, if I don¢t lay a full foundation, if the background of what led up to this day, this moment, is left incomplete, then it loses some of its significance, its depth. And, I know that while I¢ll never be able to convey w/ mere words the true profundity, the true depth of this day; still, I have to try. And, re-living those days, leading up to Summit Day, taking this guided tour down Memory Lane, writing these entries over the past few days, it¢s been wondrously cathartic and edifying and just¢¦ FUN. It¢s brought everything flooding back -- little details that I wasn¢t even aware that I¢d forgotten, until I remembered them again; the emotions I felt, the thoughts I had, the sights, the smells, the sounds. The Pod. Being surrounded by these absolutely amazing people. The giddiness, the nervousness, the excitement, the joy, the sorrow -- it¢s all come back, waves of memory crashing against my brain. And w/ a vividness, a clarity that is simply overwhelming, overpowering in its intensity. My near-photographic memory can definitely be a curse at times, but it has its moments. Yeah, it has its moments¢¦And, the benefits I¢m reaping from these strolls down Memory Lane aren¢t limited to recalibrating myself w/ reality, or getting to re-live some pretty phenomenal moments. It¢s also served to jumpstart my passion for writing. For the past several months, I¢ve had a disconnect from that part of myself. Well, to be honest, most of my life I was disconnected from that part of myself. In school, essay assignments didn¢t compare favorably to the root canal I had when I was in middle school, or when the optometrist puts those drops in your eyes, that cause your pupils to dilate for like 5 straight hours. Writing was always one of those onerous chores that you perform, simply to be done w/ them, and not b/c there is any pleasure to be derived from the task. It¢s only in the last year, year-and-a-half, that I¢ve come to not only not dread writing, but even actually enjoy it. It began w/ the journal that I kept, when hiking on the trail last year, at first nothing more than an outlet to record the happenings of the trail. But, it quickly evolved into something much more significant, much more permanent. Writing came to become a part of me, a part of who I was. And I relished it. I loved discovering this previously unknown aspect of myself, exploring unknown depths, uncovering unknown insights. And then, in the past few months, I lost track of that. I think a large part of it is due to the fact that my love of writing was born while hiking the AT, and I¢ve mentally drawn parallels and connections b/t the two, that may or may not exist anywhere except in my mind. But, as the trail drew ever-nearer to its inevitable end, maybe as a subconscious defense, I tried to distance myself from that writing-aspect, under some skewed (and horribly erroneous) assumption that it would somehow make the end of the trail easier to bear. Or maybe, I¢m just (as usual) over-analyzing the situation. All I know is that, for several months, I couldn¢t bring myself to write and now, now the words are gushing out of me, and my brain is still flooded.So, this entry, while failing utterly in relating any new details of or anecdotes from my hike, is instead my way of thanking all of you. For being the patient audience to my interminable tales. For providing me the impetus, the swift-kick-in-the-rear to rediscover my passion for writing. For serving as a dumping ground for all of my trail-related angst. For tolerating my endless stream of asides. For just reading all of this crap that I spew out. For simply being there. You might not be aware, how much it means to us, as hikers, to know that there is this network of support out there, even if it¢s invisible, even if it¢s totally unspoken, even if there¢s never any direct interaction, just knowing that it exists makes all the difference. And, that¢s true not only on the trail, but in all of life as well. So, thanks.And, I promise, less angst, more humor, tomorrow¢¦