Day 126

September 5, 2019

• Route:  Katahdin Stream Campground (Mile 2186.8) to Baxter Peak/Mt. Katahdin (Mile 2192)
• Daily Mileage: 10.4 miles – round-trip to the summit and back

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I left off in my weekly journal with my discovery that I couldn’t follow the Appalachian Trail for the entire 5.2 miles to the summit of Mt. Katahdin. I’d need to make a mile-long detour due to a washed out bridge.

After breaking this news, the park ranger at the Katahdin Springs station had me sign in for my thru-hiker permit. That’s when I saw the log of familiar names ahead of me. I recognized so many names. Gazelle. Trail Magic. Gear Boy. Luna. Moss. Daffodil. Toaster. They’d all been through here just ahead of me.

The summit permit was more than a piece of paper. It was a plastic yellow card that I could keep as a souvenir of my journey with my finisher’s number on it. I was officially the 609th NOBO AT Thru-Hiker of the season.

I started out at Springer Mountain as NOBO Hiker #2467, and now I was #609. I’d surpassed more than 75% of the hikers who started ahead of me this year. Wow! Not too shabby for an old lady.

After handing over my card, the ranger provided guidance on the routes up to Baxter Peak (the summit of Katahdin).

The Hunt Trail (aka Appalachian Trail) was passable, but the wooden footbridge that crossed Katahdin Stream had been washed out this season. So the park asking hikers to detour onto another side trail that ran from the ranger station up to just above the washed out bridge before resuming the NOBO thru-hike.

Frankly, it didn’t matter what route I took. I was still connecting my footsteps from Georgia to Maine, even if I had to detour from the white blazed for a mile due to a trail closure.

HIKING UP

I didn’t take many photos on the final route up to Katahdin. I wanted to soak in the experience and appreciate it all as we climbed from 1,000′ above sea level to 5,267′ in just 5 miles.

I still vaguely remembered the hike from last year. The route consists of four distinct sections: (1) the 3-mile long steep forest hike up to treeline; (2) the arduous, exposed rock scramble between treeline and ‘the Gateway’; (3) the nearly flat alpine tablelands beyond the rock scramble; and then (4) the final push up to the summit.

Once we got above treeline, the biting wind hit us with arctic-like blast. I was super glad I’d decided to hike the last few miles in long leggings instead of my typical Patagonia shorts. But, even with that extra clothing, we all still needed to stop and don some additional warm layers before tackling the exposed boulder scramble.

With hats, gloves and jackets now covering us up, we preserved through the cold. We needed to work together to help each other through some of the trickier sections, but we knew from experience that we could make it. And then we were on the flat alpine tablelands that emerges after the Gateway.

The Gateway is essentially the point where you crest the boulders and emerge over the edge of a flattish alpine expanse. There’s a well-worn path that hikers are asked to remain on to protect the fragile terrain from being trampled.

Rocks cairns and white blazes painted on low rocks marked the way. And although you think you can’t be far from the end, the summit is still a bit more than a mile away. Too far for my eyes to see the familiar A-frame that I’d been walking toward for four months straight.

That final mile went so quick, but it simultaneously felt like forever. It was like hiking in a dream. I felt removed from my bodily experience and as if I was watching it all as a spectator.

I was hiking the very last mile of the AT. I was finally getting to the end. I had my husband and son there to cheer me on. And even though they saw me start this journey and they would see me end it all the highs and lows in between those two points were mine.

Those memories would stay in my head, or in this journal, or with the precious people (my trail family) who experienced some many of the events with me.

THE SUMMIT

On the far side of the tablelands, we had the final 1/4-mile push up to the summit. I could see the outline of the A-frame and dozens of people at the top. I was now down to the final steps of my thru-hike. (If you ignore the 5.2-mile journey back down, that is).

And then my hand was touching the sign. I was here and it felt surreal. I felt a bit numb. Perhaps it would have been more exhilarating if this was the very first time I’d been atop Katahdin. Everything would be fresh and new.

If I’m being completely honest, I felt a deep sense of melancholy as I stood there beside the sign.

I was sad that my thru-hike was over. It felt bittersweet to be here without my trail family to celebrate with me. Because, even though I’d hiked most my AT miles solo, their faces and support were like a security blanket.

And sure, I logically knew we’d all go back to our own separate worlds when this adventure was done, but it felt like it had all ended too quickly.

I hadn’t said any goodbyes.

I’d just catapulted myself back into my normal world again with my husband, and kid, and clean hiking clothes, and freshly showered body, and…. I just felt a weight of grief instead of the overwhelming happiness or satisfaction I’d expected to feel.

Of course, I couldn’t outwardly show all those emotions. I still had to climb on top of that A-frame sign and take my finisher’s photo. I wanted to be able to look back on this moment (after this sad, wistfulness wore off) and remember what my body had done.

I needed to be proud of how my feet and legs propelled me 2,200 miles. From the archway of Amicalola Falls and up the approach trail to Springer Mountain. Through the states of Georgia, North Carolina, Tennessee, Virginia, West Virginia, Maryland, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, New York, Connecticut, Massachusetts, Vermont, New Hampshire, and finally, Maine.

And now, here I stood. Atop Baxter Peak on Mt. Katahdin. With the two people I love most in the world. If I had any tears to spill, they shouldn’t be tears of sadness. They should be tears of joy!

We stayed atop the summit for the next half hour while we ate the lunch we carried up. It felt like you could see all of Maine below us, and I had my beautiful sunny day to enjoy. I’d waited months to be sitting right here. I needed to revel in it.

As we ate, I saw several other hikers I knew come through. Rev and Sunshine joined us. And I gave a giant high-fived to K2 when he arrived. And there were so many more whose faces I recognized, but whose names seemed to escape me.

TYING UP LOOSE ENDS

As we began our journey down through the tablelands, I saw a familiar orange jacket ahead of us in the distance. Holy cow! Could it be true? Was that Luna way down there?!?

Sure enough, as the figure approached, we discovered it was Luna. He was hiking up to the summit solo. And suddenly, that bittersweet sadness I had only moments before instantly evaporated. I had my trail family!

After the two of us embraced alongside the trail, I told Keith and Finn to go ahead and hike back down without me. I wanted to go back to the summit with Luna to be there for the end of his journey. And then we’d hike back down to the car together.

Luna said he’d seen my note for him at The Birches two days ago. As it turns out, some of the other hikers ahead of us had family picking them up and reserved a spot at Katahdin Stream Campground. They’d invited all the other thru-hikers over to their site for free food. So that was why I couldn’t find him when I’d arrived.

Luna also caught me up on the status of everyone else I’d missed:

• Gear Boy and Trail Magic arrived half a day ahead of us and raced to the summit on the evening of September 3rd to avoid the inbound storm.
• Moss, Toaster, Daffodil, Calamity, Luna, had all tried to summit yesterday (September 4th). It was wet and slick and there was some scary lightening, so Luna and another hiker turned back before the top. The other four made it, but they all agreed it was a miserable journey.

So, now Luna was the only one left of our crew who need to reach the summit. He’d waited near the Hunt Trailhead for me to show this morning, and when I didn’t show up, he knew he was on his own. He didn’t known that I’d opt to come up the alternate trail recommended by the park ranger. So we just simply started at different trailheads this morning.

But we were together now. Suddenly my heart was filled with joy as I turned back around to hike the final half mile back to Baxter Peak.

Luna and I had hiked on and off together since the first week of this journey. I met him (and Squirrel) on Day 5 of my thru-hike, all the way back in Georgia.

We’d hiked the Smokies and Shenandoah together, spend the night on Max Patch under the full moon, hung out at the same hostels to take zeros, hiked naked on the summer solstice, completed the Whites together. And now here we were at the northern terminus.

I’ve hiked more miles with Luna than any other single person in my life. It was only a fitting end to be here on Katahdin with him as he finished his journey.

THE END

After tagging the Katahdin’s summit a second time, Luna and I headed down to try to catch back up with Keith and Finn. They had a good lead on on us, so we needed to get moving.

The hike back to the parking lot was mostly uneventful, save two things.

The first was our decision to stay on the main trail so I could complete every step on the AT. Luna had come up the Hunt Trail instead of the alternate, so he knew we could do it. The bridge was out, but there was a giant downed log over the river that we could use to cross. We wouldn’t have to ford the cold, swift water.

The second event was one final injury. I was walking downhill below treeline when my foot caught something on the trail. I pitch forward and stumbled, while quickly trying to catch myself. I managed to stay upright but my left foot slammed into a something buried in the trail. The violence of my foot slamming into that rock literally ripped my big toenail loose!

Once again, the AT brought teats to my eyes!

Back at the parking area, we wandered over to the Katahdin Stream campground where the thru-hiker party was in full swing. Trail Magic and Gear Boy were gone, undoubtedly trying to find their way home. But, I got to say my final goodbyes to Moss, Toaster, and Daffodil.

Then it was on to Millinocket, where the four of us (me, Keith, Finn, and Luna) enjoyed pizza and ice cream to celebrate the end of my thru-hike.

Luna still has 50 miles left to make up (the miles he skipped after Mahoosuc Arm when he twisted his ankle). So he’ll stay with us down in Orono tonight and I’ll drive him back out to Rangeley tomorrow.

This trail is over for me. Now it’s time for some much needed rest!