Hit the Road, Maine! I Ain't Comin' Back 'Cept by Train or Boat or Car or Plane!

Yes. I have completed my first state of the Appalachian Trail - all two-hundred eighty-one point-something miles of the moose poop-laden, rock-filled, root-knotted, and sometimes head-scratching Maine "foot path". And it was awesome. Every wipe out, ankle roll, and blister surgery (yes, scissors included) was worth the wealth of summit vistas, friendly conversations, and trail knowledge that I collected along the way. For those of you keeping track at home, I completed Maine on the morning of the 23rd day of my hike, placing me comfortably within the 21-25 day range for the poll responses. For those of you who answered correctly, you may choose between: the blue shirt I wore through the entire state of Maine (I'm throwing it out otherwise), an autographed photo of me and the "Kennebec River Ferryman" (unfortunately he wasn't giving autographs at the time), or maybe you'd rather just give yourself a pat on the back...

Maine is no more.

Yet, barely a dent has been made.

With me for this crossing of state-lines was my extremely brave sister, the one formerly known as Kristen. Whenever you see or call her now, you must refer to her by her trail name "Squirrel". You might think that she received this name due to her uncanny ability of scrambling around rocks and trees, or for her foresight of packing food for a rainy day (much like squirrels store up acorns and nuts for the winter), and you would be right in thinking so. However, this name was given her based on her snacking tendencies while on the trail. It seemed like every time I looked back to check on her she was pulling a small stash of trail mix out of the side pouch of her backpack, or stooping down to pick blueberries and raspberries on the tops of mountains. She wanted a trail name. She got one.

Squirrel in rock-climbing action (notice food pouch on right hip).

Food anecdotes aside, she really was a trooper. Through no design of her own, she set aside this past week of her summer to hike what is known by many as the most difficult section of the AT - The Mahoosuc mountain range which includes Mahoosuc Notch, a labyrinth of boulders and ice caves. If you don't believe me, watch this movie.

Mountain hiking/climbing isn't an easy thing to just pick up and start doing, let alone in the middle of a tough section of trail. My sister kept right up with me, and owned the downhill sections so well that I made sure she led every time. Downhill on the AT doesn't mean strolling down a gentle slope, it means picking your way down roots and rocks which are often covered in a coat of slime or rain. It was awesome having her along for the week, and I hope she had as much fun as I did (although she did say someone would have to pay her 5,000 dollars to do that section again). The fact that none of my "Summercamp" buddies caught up to us after a week of hiking is a testament to how well she really did.

As for other occurrences of note, I have continued so far to live up to my name of "9 Lives". With Squirrel watching doubtfully, I attempted a crossing of a wet, rotten log 3 to 4 feet above a perfectly manageable piece of trail. I don't know why I tried it, but it looked like a very attractive option at the time. Of course I fell off and luckily landed in a little tree that held me back from falling the rest of the way down the mountain. I think I was too happy to be alive to take a picture. Another time I was trying to catch up to my sister who had taken off in front of me, downhill. I began to practice what I thought to be good "trail running", which to me was "running as fast as I could down the trail". Didn't see the wet rock face drop off waiting for me - so I continued to "ski?" my way down the rock, pulled off a complete 360, and somehow landed on my two feet. This is not skill, people. This is God watching over me. If you read my journal you'll find almost every night without fail, "STOP DOING DUMB STUFF!" or "NEED TO BE MORE CAREFUL!" written somewhere in the entry.

Instead of telling complete stories of what happened in the past week and a half, here are some pictures...

The hardworking volunteers that keep the trail running. They asked if they could take my picture, so I told them it would cost them one too.

Pumped to be on a mountain with no view.

Can someone (an ornithologist?) please identify this bird for me??? They jump out at me from the trees and yell at me. But they're fat and can't seem to fly too well...

A typical AMC shelter.

Again, these boulders were ridiculous.

As for the hike overall so far, I'm really enjoying it. Other than a few cuts, bruises, and losing just over twenty pounds, I feel pretty good. I find I can consistently get myself up mountains without stopping for a break, and at times I can pull off 20 mile days if I really need to. If I'm having an off day, and getting to a peak seems out of the question, I repeat Isaiah 40:31 over, and over, and over until I find myself at the top.

Everyone out here is in the same boat, so it's easy to get to know people through their stories and struggles. Not many people know why they're out here doing this, and sometimes neither do I. I never doubt that what I'm doing is a good and valuable thing, but sometimes I wonder what it is exactly I'm getting out of it. And although I don't have a distinct answer, I usually come to this conclusion: That a lot of what I'm doing with my life and thinking about, I do because it is what I think someone my age is supposed to be doing and thinking about. Not that going to college and getting a job are the wrong things to do (they're not). I just needed to distance myself from the flow and examine my options from afar. I don't need to come up with a blueprint of what I want to do with the rest of my life, I just needed a little "hitting of the brakes" to allow myself to slow down and think a little (and pray a lot). I guess I don't want to do anything for the sole sake of doing "something" because it felt like the right thing to do and made sense. I always come back to this prayer when I think I'm becoming too much a part of this world and start to settle just because it feels natural:

Prayer of Sir Francis Drake
--------------------​------------

Disturb us, Lord, when We are too well pleased with ourselves,
When our dreams have come true
Because we have dreamed too little,
When we arrived safely
Because we sailed too close to the shore.

Disturb us, Lord, when
With the abundance of things we possess
We have lost our thirst
For the waters of life;
Having fallen in love with life,
We have ceased to dream of eternity
And in our efforts to build a new earth,
We have allowed our vision
Of the new Heaven to dim.

Disturb us, Lord, to dare more boldly,
To venture on wider seas
Where storms will show your mastery;
Where losing sight of land,
We shall find the stars.
We ask You to push back
The horizons of our hopes;
And to push into the future
In strength, courage, hope, and love. 




If only there was something about hiking in there everything would be perfect, but I did "find the stars". Last night I "cowboy'd" it and slept under the stars with nothing but my pad and sleeping bag. I felt absolutely tiny with the whole forest around me and the universe above, and I even got to see a bunch of shooting stars (one seemed so bright that it could have landed a few miles away). I'll be taking a week off from the trail to head to Camp-of-the-Woods with my family for our annual vacation, but I'll be back in Gorham before I know it to finish the next 110 miles of New Hampshire and 1,800 of the Appalachian Trail. Thank you everyone for your texts and comments! They give me something to think about or laugh at when deep pondering has run its course for the day. Thanks for reading and until next time, God Bless!