Katahdin
I finished. I summited. It feels surreal, and now that it's over it's as if it never happened. I summited the final mountain on August 7, meaning I walked 2,189.2 miles (plus many side trails) in four months and 16 days (139 days). I was hiker number 195 to register at the base of Katahdin, of all the northbound thru hikers this year.
I woke up in camp at 5, and my friends and I all packed up and ate and left by 6, hoping to take advantage of good weather. We were all nervous and excited, but it still hadn't set in that it was actually happening, after months of working for it and dreaming. We were climbing Katahdin, but it felt like some regular day in the Whites.
There were five of us; South Pole, Sugar Magnolia, Uphill, Wookie, and I, and we laughed and joked our way up the mountain, making inside jokes and eagle calls and yelling animal noises, because why not? It isn't often you find yourself in a situation where it is acceptable to hoot like a gorilla at the top of your lungs. We'd heard many times that Katahdin was the most difficult climb on the AT, but we'd had so many difficult climbs that we dismissed this claim. The climb was more difficult than I expected and we were basically climbing boulders, which was fun but slow going. Sugar Mags and I stuck together, far behind Uphill and Wookie, who morphed into mountain goats.
Finally, we rounded a corner and saw the sign. I started grinning and we all began to move more quickly. As we arrived on the summit, we began to yell and high five and an onslaught of pictures began as more thru hikers arrived and we all congratulated each other and laughed for no reason and chattered about nothing.
It was surreal. We had dreamt of this moment for months and worked so hard to get there and suddenly, there it was. I was on an emotional rollercoaster, and high on life. As we began to make our way down, I calmed from my adrenaline high and began to feel the fact that it was really over. I was done sleeping in the woods every night and hiking with my friends and playing Gumball (a super-awesome card game). I was done with being perpetually stinky and being able to eat anything I wanted and still be at a calorie deficit. I was done with built-in free walking meditation every day and top-of-lungs animal calls and good nights of sleep. I felt like I needed another six months to figure out my life, but school would start in two weeks. I turned around to hug Sugar Magnolia and then we both became teary messes, stumbling our way down the mountain and crying. For the past month, finishing had been all I wanted, but now that it was over I wanted more and it seemed tragic to be done. Halfway down the mountain, I lost all energy and wanted only to sit and take a nap, but we all kept each other going and made it to the parking lot.
We hitched a ride to town, where we ate lunch before Sugar Magnolia and Wookie left, on their way back to Virginia. The rest of us were left purposeless and vaguely wandering around looking for things to do. I ended up staying in Millanocket for four days and then South Pole gave me a ride back to Ithaca. I could have taken buses, but I decided waiting would be worth avoiding the headache that would accompany such a long bus journey.
I had a hard time at the beginning and many times in between. I wouldn't say the AT was fun, for the most part, but I would say that I enjoyed myself and I'm very glad I pushed myself to finish. I've never been so physically fit. Apart from the physical strife of the trail, most of the struggle was mental. I would wake up and know I had to walk 20 miles when the only thing I wanted to do was roll over and sleep for another hour, but I would get up and do it, time and time again, day after day.
My very low moments (wet, cold, hungry) were contrasted by the unforgettable moments that made it all worth it; cresting a ridge and seeing mountains and lakes and trees for miles, picking gorgeous flavorful blueberries on a mountaintop, watching the most beautiful sunrise I have ever seen over a lake in Maine, eating a pint of Ben and Jerry's followed by a cheeseburger and fries, stumbling across a canoe and going for a quick paddle around a pond, soaking my feet in a cold mountain stream, catching a glimpse of a friend you hadn't seen in weeks and never thought you'd see again.
This year has truly been an incredible journey. I've learned more about myself and the world and humanity than I ever have in the span of one year. I've learned that basing my decisions on someone else's idea of success does not make me happy. I've learned that it doesn't matter much how fast you are, as long as you are consistent. I've learned in the power of humanity; it seemed whenever I needed help the most (on the AT and on my bike ride), I could find it in a friend or even a stranger. Kindness was everywhere I turned.
I've made some unbelievable friends in the past year, who kept me going and motivated me and encouraged me and with whom I laughed and cried and talked with for hours without running out of things to say. Bonds on the AT are formed fast and in concentrated amounts because we spend 24 hours of every day together. We suffer together and we have fun together and we scheme together. The friendships I have made will stay with me forever, and I can say that my friends made my AT experience much more tolerable and enjoyable and meaningful.
I find now that I'm back in the "regular" world, everything seems more mundane than I expected. Clutter is useless (and most definitely not ultralight). Schoolwork is meaningless. Time spent sitting on a couch or sleeping feels like time wasted, but I feel overwhelmed when I go outside to find people and buildings everywhere; Leave No Trace is irrelevant and "Pack it Out" is unheard of. Parking spaces are a basic human right and trash cans are everywhere you turn. Every hour or so I contemplate running back into the woods and not looking back. At the same time, I am enjoying luxuries that were rare on the trail; showers, pillows, vegetables, electricity. I'm having fun with school friends I haven't seen in over a year and wearing clothes that aren't smelly or wet when I put them on.
I thought that it would take me months, or perhaps years, to recover from hiking the Appalachian Trail, but I find that a week later I feel mentally and physically prepared for another grand adventure. It might be years before this desire can come to fruition once again; but until then, rest assured that I will always be scheming and someday I will do something once again that will get my blood pumping and my emotions running as wild as the AT and the bike ride.
My adventure doesn't end here. I'm going back to school, and then who knows? Maybe another thru hike, maybe I'll join the peace corps, maybe I'll canoe the Mississippi, maybe I'll build a tiny house, the possibilities are endless. This past year has prepared me for the rest of my life, and I'm excited for what is to come!
I woke up in camp at 5, and my friends and I all packed up and ate and left by 6, hoping to take advantage of good weather. We were all nervous and excited, but it still hadn't set in that it was actually happening, after months of working for it and dreaming. We were climbing Katahdin, but it felt like some regular day in the Whites.
There were five of us; South Pole, Sugar Magnolia, Uphill, Wookie, and I, and we laughed and joked our way up the mountain, making inside jokes and eagle calls and yelling animal noises, because why not? It isn't often you find yourself in a situation where it is acceptable to hoot like a gorilla at the top of your lungs. We'd heard many times that Katahdin was the most difficult climb on the AT, but we'd had so many difficult climbs that we dismissed this claim. The climb was more difficult than I expected and we were basically climbing boulders, which was fun but slow going. Sugar Mags and I stuck together, far behind Uphill and Wookie, who morphed into mountain goats.
Finally, we rounded a corner and saw the sign. I started grinning and we all began to move more quickly. As we arrived on the summit, we began to yell and high five and an onslaught of pictures began as more thru hikers arrived and we all congratulated each other and laughed for no reason and chattered about nothing.
It was surreal. We had dreamt of this moment for months and worked so hard to get there and suddenly, there it was. I was on an emotional rollercoaster, and high on life. As we began to make our way down, I calmed from my adrenaline high and began to feel the fact that it was really over. I was done sleeping in the woods every night and hiking with my friends and playing Gumball (a super-awesome card game). I was done with being perpetually stinky and being able to eat anything I wanted and still be at a calorie deficit. I was done with built-in free walking meditation every day and top-of-lungs animal calls and good nights of sleep. I felt like I needed another six months to figure out my life, but school would start in two weeks. I turned around to hug Sugar Magnolia and then we both became teary messes, stumbling our way down the mountain and crying. For the past month, finishing had been all I wanted, but now that it was over I wanted more and it seemed tragic to be done. Halfway down the mountain, I lost all energy and wanted only to sit and take a nap, but we all kept each other going and made it to the parking lot.
The Aftermath
We hitched a ride to town, where we ate lunch before Sugar Magnolia and Wookie left, on their way back to Virginia. The rest of us were left purposeless and vaguely wandering around looking for things to do. I ended up staying in Millanocket for four days and then South Pole gave me a ride back to Ithaca. I could have taken buses, but I decided waiting would be worth avoiding the headache that would accompany such a long bus journey.
I had a hard time at the beginning and many times in between. I wouldn't say the AT was fun, for the most part, but I would say that I enjoyed myself and I'm very glad I pushed myself to finish. I've never been so physically fit. Apart from the physical strife of the trail, most of the struggle was mental. I would wake up and know I had to walk 20 miles when the only thing I wanted to do was roll over and sleep for another hour, but I would get up and do it, time and time again, day after day.
My very low moments (wet, cold, hungry) were contrasted by the unforgettable moments that made it all worth it; cresting a ridge and seeing mountains and lakes and trees for miles, picking gorgeous flavorful blueberries on a mountaintop, watching the most beautiful sunrise I have ever seen over a lake in Maine, eating a pint of Ben and Jerry's followed by a cheeseburger and fries, stumbling across a canoe and going for a quick paddle around a pond, soaking my feet in a cold mountain stream, catching a glimpse of a friend you hadn't seen in weeks and never thought you'd see again.
This year has truly been an incredible journey. I've learned more about myself and the world and humanity than I ever have in the span of one year. I've learned that basing my decisions on someone else's idea of success does not make me happy. I've learned that it doesn't matter much how fast you are, as long as you are consistent. I've learned in the power of humanity; it seemed whenever I needed help the most (on the AT and on my bike ride), I could find it in a friend or even a stranger. Kindness was everywhere I turned.
I've made some unbelievable friends in the past year, who kept me going and motivated me and encouraged me and with whom I laughed and cried and talked with for hours without running out of things to say. Bonds on the AT are formed fast and in concentrated amounts because we spend 24 hours of every day together. We suffer together and we have fun together and we scheme together. The friendships I have made will stay with me forever, and I can say that my friends made my AT experience much more tolerable and enjoyable and meaningful.
I find now that I'm back in the "regular" world, everything seems more mundane than I expected. Clutter is useless (and most definitely not ultralight). Schoolwork is meaningless. Time spent sitting on a couch or sleeping feels like time wasted, but I feel overwhelmed when I go outside to find people and buildings everywhere; Leave No Trace is irrelevant and "Pack it Out" is unheard of. Parking spaces are a basic human right and trash cans are everywhere you turn. Every hour or so I contemplate running back into the woods and not looking back. At the same time, I am enjoying luxuries that were rare on the trail; showers, pillows, vegetables, electricity. I'm having fun with school friends I haven't seen in over a year and wearing clothes that aren't smelly or wet when I put them on.
I thought that it would take me months, or perhaps years, to recover from hiking the Appalachian Trail, but I find that a week later I feel mentally and physically prepared for another grand adventure. It might be years before this desire can come to fruition once again; but until then, rest assured that I will always be scheming and someday I will do something once again that will get my blood pumping and my emotions running as wild as the AT and the bike ride.
My adventure doesn't end here. I'm going back to school, and then who knows? Maybe another thru hike, maybe I'll join the peace corps, maybe I'll canoe the Mississippi, maybe I'll build a tiny house, the possibilities are endless. This past year has prepared me for the rest of my life, and I'm excited for what is to come!
a wonderful summary of things, Natasha! We are so proud of you and want to follow you as you continue on your journey of your life. Stay in touch with us - you inspire us and move us to keep our eyes open, our door open, our hearts open to new things - even at age 80 which Dick turned this past week! The adventure never ends....love to you! Jody and Dick Plummer, from your bike ride across the country!
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