Miles: 2,000.4 — We planned to hitch into town for a quick resupply, but ended up in the care of Tom, a trail angel who insisted on taking us home for showers, laundry, burgers, and an entire feast. On the way, he drove us to a viewpoint and pointed out Katahdin in the distance — my first real glimpse. It was exhilarating and bittersweet all at once. Back on trail, I stopped early again, knowing I could push further but not quite ready to rush toward the end.
We got up early and hiked as fast as we could to the next major road. We planned on hitching a ride into either Stratton or Carabasset Valley to get resupply and get back on trail. We’d agreed that we would forgo laundry and showers, neither of us wanting to spend money on something so trivial this late in the trail.
We were both getting low on funds and I was trying to avoid asking my parents for help. I’d made it all the way here from Pennsylvania without their monetary help, aside from when we’d stayed with them in the Whites and their visits to us in Rangely and Andover.
Okay so they’d helped, but that should have been enough. Having to budget such a small amount of money had made me a lot more grateful for what they did for me all these years when I was struggling. Not only budgeting money but budgeting my time. I realized how much time was worth out here, and most times it seemed like it was worth far more than money.
When we got to the wide, 50mph road, we held out our thumbs and smiled. We smelled awful. In pre-trail research you’ll find many articles about how to hitchhike politely. We weren’t following any of those rules: 1. Change into at least a clean shirt, you smell. 2. Wipe down with baby wipes or a camp towel. 3. Know where you’re going. We didn’t care where we were going or how badly we smelled as long as there was food on the other end.
We stood there for a good half hour and I started getting nervous. Our plan was to get in, get out, and then hike 5-7 miles further north that afternoon. It was already 10:45am. Eventually, An older guy in a Lincoln Town Car with the classic square 70’s metal glasses and a dog in the front seat. He asked where we were going and we told him. He offered to take us down to the local grocery store, he lived in Stratton he told us. In the car he told us about how he loved to bring hikers home and help them out, as his dog sat in my lap and licked my face. He offered to take us home so that he could cook us lunch and we could do our laundry and shower. He even had loaner clothes, he told us. We apologized about our smell and took him up on his offer. It seemed he wouldn’t let us refuse.
At the grocery store he went around and got stuff for burgers while we did our resupply. I was flustered by all of it. The small SureFine didn’t have a lot of the things that I usually got and I ended up with a lot of groceries, half of which weren’t even what I wanted. Tom, the trail angel, offered to pay for our groceries. I felt awkward and almost didn’t let him, but he insisted. While he was paying the chief of police came through and greeted Tom like an old friend.
The police chief told us about how much he loves hikers and how whenever he goes grocery shopping, he grabs an extra six pack and leaves it at the trailhead for hikers. This small town seemed very happy to have hikers here.
I thought I was splitting some of it with Miles, but he didn’t end up wanting to split most of it by the time we got outside. I stuffed, and I mean STUFFED to the brim, all of the food into my pack outside the store. We saw Butter while we were packing up our food. Tom offered to take her with us, too, but she’d already put her laundry in at the laundr-o-mat. We said goodbye to her, and Tom took us back to his place. On the way, he showed us a little view point nearby his home. He drove us up this dirt road to the top of a hill and pointed to a peak way out in the distance.
“That there,” he told us, “is Katahdin.” Surprised, our mouths fell open. We didn’t think we’d see Katahdin for a few days. It was the most motivating and bittersweet sights I’d ever seen. I was so excited to get there, but I also wasn’t ready for it to end. For the past few days I’d hiked less miles than I’d said I was going to. I slacked. Subconsciously, I really wasn’t ready for it to be over. I think I was also tired, almost burnt out on the trail. But happy, too. It was a mixed bag.
Back at Tom’s house we showered, cuddled with his cat, and did our laundry. He made us lunch and left us alone to eat at his dining room table in the wood paneled cabin. He left out a huge smorgasbord of food for us: burgers, chips, corn, salad, beer, ice cream, fruit, yogurt. Whatever a hiker could want he had. We filled ourselves and Tom offered for us to stay the night, but we told him we really had to get back to trail. We were still trying to make the deadline for my friend’s wedding.
He told us he appreciated us for not taking total advantage of him and told us a story of a hiker who stayed with him for two months once!
Back on trail we stopped at the first campsite. I really wanted to stop there. I don’t know why. It was still light out we were well fueled, I had way too much food and my pack was heavy, but I could’ve made it further. Instead, I told Miles I wanted to stop. He agreed after a while. I didn’t feel great about it, but it was the decision I’d made. We hoped to see Blackbird and Krafty that night, Blackbird had texted me to say she was nearby. We never saw them, but we did see Butter! We settled in and the campsite ended up being packed that night. Into town, out of town seemed to be everyone’s philosophy that day. Combine that with the southbound bubble and it was crowded.
The campsite was just after Mile 2000. We were so close to the end. Only 190.9 more miles. That was like the distance from Springer to Clingman’s Dome in the Smokies. Looking back now, as far as that seemed then, it wasn’t far at all. It was two weeks, maybe three. Two. Weeks. Maybe. Three. How had it gone by so fast and yet somehow so slowly, too? How were we here?
All the things I had dreamed about being here, all the feelings I thought I’d feel, all the accomplishments and confidence and foundness I thought I’d feel. Well, those feelings weren’t as strong as I thought they’d be. I’m still a human, I realized. Nothing is the perfect fantasy you imagine it