“The End of Something Beautiful”

AT Day 137

Miles Today: 10.37

AT Mile: 2193.2

(Birches Shelter [tent])

Don’t take my distain for the Appalachain Trail to mean that I have not enjoyed this experience. It’s hard for me to find the right words for it (and hasn’t that been the theme of this entire hike?), but I feel two conflicting feelings at the same time–a coincidencia oppositorum. I will miss this hike and shed tears today in accepting that it will be over soon, but I’ve also hated the trail itself. Make no mistake about it; the AT is often a terribly built and miserable hike. But the thru hike itself is something separate from that. The hike has been a life altering experience. It’s changed my world views and perspective in ways that I expected and in ways that I could not have.

Although I am sad to see it coming to an end, I remain resolute in my being ready for it to be over. I have felt “done” with the hike for several hundred miles now. I had a suspicion when I started this trail that after it was over I would feel that it didn’t measure up to the PCT or the CDT or the miles I’ve walked in Grand Canyon, but deep down I wanted for that not to come true. I truly wanted to fall in love with the Appalachian Trail and be changed in a way that made me understand why so many people worship it over the other long trails of the United States.

But alas, here we are, at the end, and that’s how I feel. I’m saddened that the trail wasn’t more, but I’m grateful that it was beautiful in the ways that it was. I’m grateful for many of the people I met both on trail and in towns. I’m grateful for the opportunity to see and experience the Eastern United States. I’m grateful for this time away from the trauma I was dealing with in Arizona. I’m grateful for the companionship I found in Damascus. I’m grateful to be able to say that I have hiked the Appalachian Trail and know what it’s all about. I’m grateful that I have made it (at least this far) mostly uninsured and still healthy. I’m grateful that although the weather was fucking intolerably hot most of the time, that it wasn’t pouring down rain the whole time.

—

I should note that as I write this I’m in my tent, early in the evening hours. I’m sharing this tent pad with three other hikers who are all posted up in such close proximity that it’s almost like being back at Trail days.

And it’s absolutely dumping rain outside.

We were all gathered around the camp fire, many of them drinking beers, some of us passing a joint, all of us munching on our last trail dinner of the Appalachian Trail. There are 12 of us here, and the fire pit circle is large. But then it started to sprinkle, and within five minutes a sprinkle became a downpour and we all retreated back into the tents that we’d set when we’d individually arrived.

—

Last night felt sort of weird because there was this pressure to get up early so that I could hike that mile to where they issue permits for the Birches shelter where I wanted to stay tonight. As I wrote last night, they only allow the first 12 people in line to camp here, and I quite wanted it, but I didn’t think that there would be 11 others… but there could have been.

So I slept in a bit, but then at 5:30 I started packing up and breaking down camp in a bit of a rush.

When I arrived I was the 10th person in line at 6:30! The ranger didn’t even open the booth until 7. So I’m glad that I did make it in early, but also glad I didn’t get up earlier.

Two guys I have been hiking with a bit this last week said that they both woke up at 1am and hiked 4.5 miles to get there at 3:30 in the morning! They said they felt a little silly about it when the next person didn’t arrive for another two hours. I couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of them rushing to get there, thinking that there was any chance in hell that 11 other thru hikers were going to be getting there before 4am! They both said they’ve been tired as hell the rest of the day, and I understand why.

After getting my permit, I hiked the mile back to the Abol Campground Camp Store to get a few resupplies for this last day and a half, then shot the shit with the other hikers for an hour or so. I knew all but four of them, and made friends with the ones I didn’t know quickly. It’s amazing meeting someone at this point and having so many miles in common, that even if we haven’t met before, we already have this shared bond from the trail.

Several of them started cracking beers early, and it sounded great, but I also was resolved to not drink anymore on trail, or maybe for a while after the trail too.

I have been listening to the autobiography of Flea from the Red Hot Chilly Peppers and his discussion of drug and alcohol abuse and his near 30 years of sobriety and spirituality now. The book is called “Acid For the Children” and he speaks VERY positively towards LSD and psilocybin. He also speaks mostly well of pot although he admits to using it too much in his time, as I do too no doubt.

I ordered and devoured my last ice cream of the trail, ate a donut from one of the other hikes, and then packed up to get to trail around 10:30am. The other hikers were mostly still lallygagging at the camp-store when I left, and I would have stayed as well were it not for the forecast of rain.

—

The miles today were easy and beautiful. The trail followed a river for around 10 miles up into Baxter State Park to the Birches Shelter.

Oh–by the way–there was only one hiker this morning who did not make it into the Birches but had wanted to. He arrived at around 8am, and they still got him a campsite two miles from here, which is way closer than the 10 mile option!

—

Expected rain during the hike, and it did start to come down just enough that I popped open my umbrella for the first time since the Long Trail (that’s not true, I used it as a sunbrella at the VT/NH border because it was so insanely hot!) but it only lasted for around a half hour. The rest of the day I felt like it could rain at any moment and so I felt rushed to get to the shelter because I didn’t want to be drenched when I arrived.

That didn’t work out though. I was still soaked through. Not from rain but from sweat. Yes the miles were easy, but it was warm and humid once I got to trail, and it showed on my clothing quickly. When I got to the ranger’s station just before the Birches Shelter to get my permit stamped, I asked if I could sit down while I filled out the form and he said, “How about you don’t, you’re soaking wet.” It struck me as rude, but then again I had asked, and in doing so opened the door for him to answer.

—

Camp has been really nice this afternoon. It’s that same collection of hikers from this morning, and I think that we are all feeling excited to finish. It feels communal and familial amongst us in a way that I haven’t felt before today. It has reminded me what it’s like to be with people again. Since Plinko left to hike on his own I’ve been mostly alone with the trail. There have been some people that I’ve hiked around and even a few that I’ve shared more than one camp with (some of whom are here tonight actually), but there is something here at the Birches Shelter that is different.

One of the other hikers compared it to the feeling before your first day of school. When the summer is about to end. When you’re excited to see your friends again, but you’re sad to see the end of summer and all the freedom that summer brings. I told her that’s the best description of it that I’ve heard.

—

I don’t know if I’ve already written about this in another journal or not, but it’s on my list of things to write about: I’m so fucking excited to not be stubbing my goddam toes on roots and rocks and stumbling down trail like a bafoon again! It happens all day long on this trial. And I’m so fucking tired of it. I’m sorry for the profanity, but I think it’s important. Man… fuck the Appalachain Trail. The number of times that I’ve kicked a root or a rock so hard that I legitimately thought I might have broken my foot has been uncountable! It happens almost daily! And many times per day it’ll hit hard enough that it just hurts and I stumble. But almost daily it’s bad enough that I have to stop and assess if I’m injured. Goddam I’m excited for that to be done.

—

Tomorrow I have about 5 miles to the summit. That’s it. Could have done it today if I’d wanted, but the weather looked rough, and tomorrow’s weather looks awesome. So it’s worth the wait.

The miles will be steep and aggressive. I’ll also be taking the same trail down as I take on the way up.

Then, Boots will pick me up at the ranger station–that same statin where they told me I couldn’t sit down because I was too wet.

Oh my god… it’s almost over.

It’s almost over.

It’s almost over…

Tomorrow it will be done.

Wormwood.

P.S. There are three others camped on this tent pad with me, and it’s pouring rain. One of them just said they need to pee, but they don’t want to go out in the rain. One of the others quickly giggled and said, “I just peed in my vestibule. I don’t even care.”

I’m going to miss this life!