Victory Lap

A mere few steps off the summit, in turning to descend I caught a hitch all the way to Allentown PA, departing Millinocket in the morning. With 3 friends I easily reached the base, at Katahdin Streams Campground, before said ride departed for Millinocket, and spent the evening of my summit day with them in the last trail town of the AT. Thus began the full-circle conclusion of my journey.
Allentown was just a few hours and a few friends from Emmitsburg MD. Thus I was returned to the point at which I’d left my car, and thus I continued …
To Frostburg, the alma mater, and where I’d lived just prior thru-hiking
To the James River, in glorious central Virginia, which I will touch on later.
To Hot Springs where I did 2 weeks of work for stay and got my hike back on track
To Atlanta where I stayed a few days with my brother and sister-in-law before they dropped me off at the trail head
To Dahlonega, the first trail-town, which I actually had yet to see and now discovered thoroughly as I now have a friend from there.
All completely unexpectedly by way of just about every trail town and half the points of interest south of Harpers Ferry

But back to the James River. I’d been thinking ever since I crossed it on foot in early May, that when all this was over I’m going to take a really long…canoe trip. I had a few friends that were going to “aqua blaze” Shenandoah but I wasn’t going that route. I really had no regrets about all the hiking I was and would be doing. Didn’t want to quit before Katahdin. Canoeing just sounded fantastic. Like the glories on even the rigors of hiking, only not on your feet. It also in all practicality, was not likely to happen, given I would have to start pulling in some viable employment, get to ranger school, and friends in the normal world would certainly their vacation plans previously arranged. Entirely unexpected however, a best friends brother beat out the rest of the family in response to my passing through Fredericksburg and I got invited on a Labor Day weekend float trip with a bunch of his friends. It totally fit the bill. I was looking up at all the gorgeousness I’d looked down from 4 months earlier.

My Victory Lap proper took place on a 34 mile stretch oh the AT, from Davenport Gap to Hot Springs, over Max Patch. Max Patch being the key feature. I set aside 2 ½ days to do this, expected I may in fact do it quite nicely in 2 and actually accomplished it in 1 ½ on a luxuriously relaxing pace and schedule. I didn’t know it back when, but Tennessee trail is heaven. Coming off thru-hiking, coming out of the Whites and Maine, 20 miles was almost nothing. So by early afternoon on the first day I knew I would only be spending one night in the woods, and decided my site of choice would be Walnut Mountain Shelter. Last I checked, it didn’t have a roof and was all in shambles, but thanks to McGyver, I also knew that the pieces laying about could be rigged into something of a makeshift to better protect me from the impending weather. (MacGyver, if you’re still following this please post me an email address in the comments and I just wont publish that one.) Much to my surprise the roof had been replaced over the summer, leaving me a snug and care-free night all to myself. Inspite of the torrential rainstorm that slowed my arrival and persuaded me to sleep in my car the night before, and the overcast light rains to come throughout the night and morning, I landed the most fantastic glorious day on Max Patch, breath-taking, and unforgettable. I also found a geo-cache by sheer accident. The venture was far more than successful. And I say that not only for the Victory Lap but for the entire trek from Georgia to Maine in all its epic, euphoric, accomplished, rigorous, occasionally dismal, and entirely unglamorous glory. I loved it. I miss it. I think about it every day. Epilogue soon to follow.

Mission Accomplished

The journey is not yet complete, but Katahdin has been reached as the climax thereof. Some things just aren't over til they're over. In a social sense this is one of those things. Arriving at the last shelter on the trail, just outside Baxter State Park, I was like "Are you kidding me?? This is the Twilight Zone, right?". And 25 yards from the pinnacle experience of the northern terminus with its famous sign I had to just shake my head and laugh at the abrupt and awkward six-minute pause that the emotion of my monumental near approach was relegated to. But I couldn't have asked for a better day to summit. The overwhelming reality of all that was accomplished there, and the meaning behind it are beyond the power of even the most descriptive words. Katahdin is more than a mountain. Surreal. Magnificent. Idyllic. Personal. Any overt response to the structure by anyone other than a true thru-hiker appears trite.
2175 miles behind me demanding I do so is the only means on God's green earth by which I had proceeded through The Gateway and upward blaze by blaze. 4 hours later, descending among comrades of similar feat, I was floating over boulders on miracles.
Now I'm on my way full circle, this time in the contrast and glory of whirlwind fashion.
I'm many friends and vistas, miles and choices, experiences and realizations richer than I already was when I began this irreplaceable trek. It will be awhile before I fully process it all.

Monso(o)n, Maine

So. From Rangeley. I cranked out full days and then some- to Straton in 2 days instead of 3, to Caratunk in 2 days instead of 3. Saddleback was alright. Bigelow, Horns Pond to Avery Peak, fantastic. The Kennebec, lovely. Rain, yes rain, lots of rain. But at this point I have this nonplused resignation to it. Eh, rain, I'm hiking, whatever. makes it a little slower in someways, but if you're going to be wet all day and know it, you dont waste time trying to keep the boots dry.

I've done a 20-mile day in Maine already. Which means I've done a 20-mile day in every state (or included every state in one I should say. West Virginia doesn't have 20 miles)
I also got kidnapped by a little old lady at the post office who felt she had a better idea of where to drop me off than I did.
I finally had a legitmate river fording to do yesterday. 3 infact. Loved it. I did not however get to test my gladiator flip-flops. The boots were already soaked pre-entry.

My camera gave up the ghost on the south bank of the Kennebec awaiting morning ferry. I thought it would really suck to hike all this way and not have a summit photo. Part of my amazing support team overnighted a wonderful replacement, and you will see me ontop shortly. I'm about to enter the 100 mile wilderness. Which is daunting in several regards, but at the moment the sun is shining. I have an idea of what day I'd like to summit, and an idea of two days after that being more reasonable. Neither of which I will publish here.

But next time you find a new post here I will be a for real deal totally legit thru-hiker.

Coasting

Yes, I was. Took 3 days off out of Rangeley Maine and went to the coast for some R&R with a girl I'd met hiking in the Smokies, hung out with in HotSprings, that had put out the invite to me. Chilled on Monhegan Island all day, cooked and baked all sorts of amazingness in a real kitchen, had lobster for the first time (which is like a variation on picking bluecrabs).

See none of the trail rumors are true. The Whites didn't kill us. Pennsylvania isn't rocky. And Virginia sure isn't flat. But there is one trail rumor that is more than true. Southern Maine is worse than the Whites. Southern Maine is the worst part of the trail. It takes forever. Mahoosuc Notch and Mahoosuc Arm. Toughest 10 miles of my life. Took me 12 hours. If I were a fraction of an inch shorter I dont know how I would've made it. Stretched me to the Max. And all in the rain or just after rain besides. I had a few brief shafts of light before Andover, like sundown just before Speck Pond, probably the most epic scene of all my life as a hiker.

Things got a little better from Andover. I found someone to hike with for 3 days, which is a rarity. Rarity in that it has never happened for me and another thru-hiker. I liked it cause it was mutually beneficial, I wasn't getting creeped on, and each of us hiking our own hike was most important to both of us. Then I went on vacation.

I meant to update this from there but I fell asleep instead. The change (or lack) of pace and some seawater did me wonders. And my legs, in revolt and mutiny after 1850 miles of what I'd put them through, were back in the game and up for hiking again.

Ups and Downs - White Mountains National Forest

Water became scarce between Hanover and the Whites. Record temperatures continued to climb. I replaced my boots in Lincoln. Things were going well. The Trail was notably tougher and less maintained. I was dragging, feeling lethargic and not making so many miles. The Whites were partly familiar territory. I zeroed at Lonesome Lake. The Croo there was really great to me. I felt like I could sleep all day and did a pretty goood job of it. The next day I was meeting Lydia with eagar anticipation. She brought me a Trader Joe's resupply and carried it halfway up the mountain for me. For a few hours of the morning we hiked, snacked and got hit on together. Not long after she returned to the Flume for a drive back to the baby, I puked all over the trail. It was highly un-Leave-No-Trace-ish, but there wasn't much I could do about it, and 2-3 weeks of upset stomach from various and sometimes unknown causes finally departed. The skies were alternately overcast and clear day by day, but with no major storms I say I got fantastic weather for the duration, and with consistant sufficient calories further supplimented with Hut Food my energy returned in force and I was both enjoying and feeling strong for my 8-15 mile days thru this territory, highlighted by the scenery and appearance of trail friends not seen for sometime. We're now crossing southbounders in relatively large numbers, most of whom are highly annoying, arrogant and inconsiderate, but that's just a generalization. I've met a few real good ones as well. Zeroing yesterday at the trailside hostel near Gorham NH I accomplished most everything but this update: sleep, resupply, cleanings, repairs, and writings. I won't quite hit Maine today but I'm really really close at this point. There's a rendezvous to the coast I'll be making from Rangely sometime next week, so I'm signing off now to pack up and hit the Trail. Under 300 to Katahdin.

Into the Whites!

What a fun day, and what a fun time! I, self-proclaimed "Brownie," for a day, met up with the famous Gingersnap herself 1 mile north of the Flume Visitor Center in Franconia Notch State Park on Tuesday, July 26. Poured the night before, and poured the night of, but was lovely and mild during our short hike together.

Snappy spent the night stealth camping (or something like that...) in a cozy nook under the highway and then met up with me at the Flume bike trail and Liberty Springs trail crossing. I believe it was 2 years since we last saw each other, so what fun to catch up! I came bearing goodies from Trader Joe's and the usual dried milk, dried potatoes, dried beverage, dried apples, dried whatever.

Spent a couple of hours together before I had to turn back and return to the car to hustle back to Waterville Valley, where my mom was watching our one year old little boy. I was happy to NOT carry him in my backpack up the steep-ish, wet-ish trail. And was able to run back on the trail after emptying my "weight" onto the lone hiker.

Gingersnap was aiming for Garfield that eve. Don't know whether or when she arrived, but with 375 to go, I'd say she's looking pretty swell and as chipper as ever. Sent me back with a bunch of mail and a bit of trash.

All in all, great day, great hike, great friends! Keep on keeping on Kris! You're almost there! So proud of you!

Onward and Upward

Vermont was a pretty rough time. Not intrinsically, just circumstantially. Physically yet ill and hardly eating, socially- stalked on and in a wierd mix of long termers, climatically- over heated, ...ok, the navigationally screwed issue was intrinsic. There's absolutely no way that anyone should begin another trail large or small in overlap with the A.T., split them 100 miles down the road and blaze both White. No way. Especially without any sort of warning signs leading up to that point. Especially displaying the newly intoduced trails blaze prominantly and hiding the A.T.'s blaze entirly arround the bend. On a white birch. There's some things in life youre supposed to be able to trust, like your parents, and a best friend, ...and white blazes to lead you from Georgia to Maine. Only to find out it's like the yellow brick road and the Wizard of Oz. This will stand out in my journey as one of the most frightening and rattling experiences of all. Next day I walked mostly in a bewildered and disillusioned haze of betrayal. My night at the Lookout began to redeem the situation. That, and Killington Peak previously, are the highlights of the Greens.

2 days and a very few nauseous calories later I came into New Hampshire, into Hanover-Dartmouth and to an unexpected welcome from friends of friends made in Hot Springs, NC. I'm taking 2 day off hiking, most of the run-around and some of the rest taken care of today, and tomorrow desinated near entirely to sleeping. The Whites loom not far in the distance. I have mixed feelings regarding them. But 1740 miles into this thing there's only one way to go, and that's north.