Miles: 2,104.3 — The morning sun was crisp and perfect, and I spent most of the day avoiding thoughts about the end. We hit the 2,100-mile mark and I swallowed back tears, thinking about everything this hike had been for me. As night fell, we pushed past the shelter to find a stealth site… and ended up in a creepy little clearing with a chopped tree and a hat on it. Low 30s overnight, but we slept.
I woke up to a branch cracking off of a tree and landing a mere foot from my tent. It nearly scared the crap out of me! I woke Miles up, it was almost 8am. We laid in our tents and did our morning routine. It was chilly again, but the weather was beautiful otherwise. The wind had cleared away any clouds that had been there the day before. A clear, wintry sun peered through the faintly changing fall leaves. It was beautiful. I felt a ping in my chest of content, comfortable happiness. The pressure of finishing, the weight of my pack, my worries about the future floated away with the breeze.
We got up and ready slowly and began walking. We walked separately at first. I had as much caffeine as I could stomach and a few bars. Miles quickly sped ahead of me but I kept good pace. I listened to media on and off, but I mostly just tried to take in the physical power I finally possessed, the air around me, and the views from the little mountains we climbed.
Over Barren I went alone. Somewhere on the side of the trail near one of the Chairback mountains I found Miles making a hot lunch. I stopped and made some cous cous with him. Hot lunch or early hot dinner was our thing now.
We ate before camp when possible, so we wouldn’t have to worry about water as much. We used the calories we ate for dinner instead of sleeping on them. One hot meal could power me for another 2-4 hours typically.
Leaning against a mossy rock, we finished dinner and talked about our podcasts and the day. We listened to some squealing squirrels and silly grouse clucking. Each breeze that swept through the trees reminded me to take deep breaths and enjoy myself. I avoided thinking about the end of our thru-hike the entire day.
As the afternoon came upon us we found 2100 written in pine needles on some moss. 2100 miles we’d gone, only 90.9 left. I got goosebumps and prickly rush that started a knot in my throat. Did I want to cry? I asked myself. I swallowed hard and stuffed the tears back down. I remembered all of those times I had wanted to go home. All of those frustrating moments I’d had. All the hangry times and the overtired times and the ‘I just need to get my bearing’ times. I suddenly felt dramatic. I felt like I had wasted my whole hike. This whole time I could have been having fun! I could have relaxed and let go! I could have been enjoying myself like the other stinky hiker trash!
No. I reminded myself. That’s not why you were here. You didn’t even like camping! I reminded myself why I had really come out here. To change. And change wasn’t easy or glamorous or fun or laid back. It was work and commitment and tears and mental breakdowns and mental breakthroughs. Change was learning to accept things for exactly what they were. Change was learning to be content instead of chasing happiness and expectations. Change was looking at myself and seeing truth, even in the harshest and meanest ways. Change wasn’t lollygagging in the woods with my friends. And that’s why I didn’t have a trail family or group photos or ‘fun’. Because I had a new me and a new perspective and a new lease on life. And that is EXACTLY why I was out here in the first place. But I’d still feel guilty about not having so much fun and ‘missing out’ on what other people got to have. But maybe, I had to remind myself, other people had a ‘change’ hike too.
As it began to get dark, we reached the next shelter. There were no tent spots left there and we had energy still. We kept pushing and looking for stealth sites in the woods. We were getting close to a steep downhill with Katahdin Ironworks (KI) Road at the bottom. KI Road was one of the only roads that accessed the HMW. It was locked at night but there was a lot of car camping around that area. I didn’t feel safe camping near it. Plus, camping was banned on the Pleasant River due to erosion (fine enforced). So we tried, in the dark to find a site before that.
Through the trees, something reflective caught my eye. It was kind of creepy. I went into the woods and found 2 tent sites from people before us. I turned around to shout up to the trail and tell Miles we could probably camp here. It was a bit of a hill, though. As I turned, I saw a hat hanging on a tree that had been chopped in half, the stump came up to my waist. It was creepy to say the least, but we were running out of options.
At 8pm we decided to set up camp there. We shared Miles’ tent as the temperature dropped into the low 30º’s. I layered my ‘20º’ (more like 30º) ultra-light quilt and my 40º summer sleeping bag along with my jacket and long johns. It was cold, but we slept.