We were snuggled in our sleeping bags. When it’s cold out, we zip them together to keep warmer. The alarm went off at 6a, I didn’t want to leave. It was incredibly cold still, so cold that you could see you breath. No one in the campsite moved. Warthog even settled until about 7a. Then the inevitable… get ready for today’s hiking.
The wind was cut by the trees we were camping in, so the trail itself was warmer than our campsite. We stood in the sun as our bodies thawed a bit. It took a couple of miles until we were out of the windy section. As soon as we began to drop down the mountain the forests got still. It was glorious.
This morning we officially descended out of the Whites. I’m not going to lie, I’m glad to be finished with them. This part has been breathtaking; both because of the views and the arduous climbing. However, it has also been a section where my spirit was low. As we dropped out of the Whites, I felt some tension leave and was grateful for the bit of trail this morning brought. It reinvigorated me.
We stopped at a shelter to take a break and wait for Snow Monkey and Wonder Woman to catch up. They weren’t out of their tent yet when we were leaving this morning. It was just after this that we hit the “300 miles to go” point. Only 300 miles. That’s just three weeks. I can’t believe how soon this adventure will culminate. I know there will be many complicated emotions that I will feel as we get closer and closer to the end. Right now, I’m focused on the challenge ahead: southern Maine, a section of rocks, roots, and nearly vertical climbs. It sure seems like there’s always something challenging ahead.
After the shelter we hiked another two miles until we came out onto a road and to a hostel. The hostel advertised a Labor Day party they were having. With $5- tenting or $30- for a bunk, along with free food and a party, we were tempted to stay. We discussed it over a lunch of pizza, chicken parmesan subs, pepsi, and ice cream. We ultimately landed on the decision to keep hiking.
While we were at the hostel, we got to meet and chat with Odie. Odie is a previous thru-hiker famous for putting together a hiker yearbook every year. You submit your name, contact information, and photo. It’s a way for other hikers to connect with you after the trail. He had a copy from last year, something he left for us to look at. We poured through it.
After spending far too long at the hostel, we knew it was time to go. We walked across the road, then down another, then down another. We crossed over a dam with a fly fisherman wading in the river below. Finally, the we saw where the trail turned back into the forest. We had a few good uphill pushes, something my body really didn’t want to do after the rich lunch we had. I made it.
Late in the evening we were coming to an overlook and saw another hiker. Warthog paused, then I heard him say, “Socks?!” It was someone we knew from early in the trip, but haven’t seen in maybe over a thousand miles. None of us figured we’d see him again because we knew he was so far ahead. We were all so excited to run into him. He had taken some time off of the trail for illness and to have a break. He told us of a couple other hikers we’ve missed who are just ahead. I’m so happy we are running into old friends. We felt so far behind our bubble of friends. Turns out, we are only a day or two away from a lot of them.
Two or three days later, we would find out that Socks is unfortunately off of the trail. Just after crossing into Maine, he would slip on a rock face and fall about fifteen feet. The fall would leave him with a shoulder sprain, both knees sprained, and bruises on all of his right ribs. Thankfully, he had cell service to be able to call for help. He would be helicoptered out of the forest and admitted into the hospital for a night. X-Rays would give him the good news that nothing is broken. At least he would have that to hold onto. With less than three hundred miles to go, Socks will have to step away from the trail. Something tells me he’ll be back.
Having covered around fourteen miles today, we are camped just shy of 1,900! Ah! In another week or another hundred miles, we will officially be 2,000 milers – the distance that the Appalachian Trail Conservancy considers to be a successful thru-hike. I’m so proud of our accomplishments so far. It makes seeing this thing through to the end tangible. Additionally, it heightens my fear of injury. Each day I start by praying for safety on the trail. Each day I’m am even more grateful for those who are praying for our safety. The end is in site. We are so close. I can feel it.
-ansel