Friday, June 29, 2012

Reignite

We are about to cross into New England.

Connecticut.
Massachusetts.
Vermont.
New Hampshire.
Maine.

That's it.

When I look at a map, I can hardly believe how far we have come.
How far we have walked.
I remember looking at a map in Georgia only a week or two in, and it was such a minimal distance of ground covered.
Now we are near the top.
Near the end.
Closer to Katahdin.

This trek has been a once in a lifetime, incredible journey, but it has been exhausting.
I feel like I will need several days of nonstop sleep to make up for all the physical exertion on the Trail.

And for me, at least, the states have not been getting any easier.
I have been expecting New England to be tough, especially once we hit Vermont, New Hampshire, and Maine; but the mid-Atlantic states have proven to be strenuous as well.

Pennsylvania was rocky. ROCKY.
New Jersey was swampy (and still rocky).
And New York has been relentlessly up and down. Constantly. And swampy. And, yes, rocky.

But every step brings us closer to the end, and I have to remind myself that it will be over too soon.
March seems like so far gone, but at the same time it has zoomed by.
I want to cherish every moment out here... even the difficult moments.

It's in these moments when I feel like I am living.
When I'm trudging along, thirteen miles into a hot and humid day, and I look ahead of me and see a massive mountainside with a tiny little white blaze floating on a tree at the very top.
I stop and sigh.
Sometimes. Most times wanting to quit for the day.
Forget the other eight miles we have to do!
I stop and I sigh and I look up at the top of that mountain.
I feel defeated.
So defeated.

But this is not defeat.

Though I want to stop, I take a deep breath.
I howl.
I growl and I scratch and claw my way up the rock and earth to the top.

I am alive.

Of course, it's usually after such a climb when I drink all my water, eat three Snickers bars and collapse in some leaves not to wake up til morning.
But it's one more mountain.

And come morning, there will be more.

"I want to be a lilikoi, Boy Lilikoi
You grind your claws
You howl, you growl
Unafraid of Hoi Polloi
You run, you're free
You climb endless trees
You reignite"


Danglin'

The lemon squeezer

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

The Ant

We are less than one thousand miles from Mount Katahdin, Maine.

Less than 1,000! That means we have already walked over 1,000. I'm still in a bit of disbelief about that... I can only imagine how I might feel once we get to Maine.

Over the past few weeks we have seen bears and snakes and ticks [oh my!]. We have crossed out of Virgina, the longest state on the Trail. We have traversed through West Virginia, Maryland and are about to leave Pennsylvania behind us. We have eaten a half gallon of ice cream in a single sitting. Each. We have walked over 1,200 miles and have been on the Trail over 100 days. My mustache is starting to grow into my mouth, but that's another story.

Things are getting real.

The miles are difficult for me. Every single one. Some days I pound my way up mountains and feel triumphant, while other days I stop half way to the top and throw rocks into the woods out of desperate frustration. My body aches constantly, and it is easier to sit down than to stand back up.

It's difficult.

And I knew it would be difficult going into this, but that doesn't really make it easier.

I have a story for you. About an ant.

Yesterday KitFox and I took a midday break by a creek to try and cool off. Anna set up her tent, and I just threw down my neo-air pad on the ground.

Relaxation.

Two hours passed quickly, and we started to pack up our things. I undid my neo-air to let it deflate and walked away to get water and have a snack. When I came back to my pad I noticed that one of those big black ants had somehow crawled inside the mattress!

"No, anty!" You can't go in there, you stupid ant. Don't you know you'll die now? Ahhh... now there was going to be an innocent dead ant carcass in my neo-air for the remainder of my thru-hike. Trying to get him out again would be like trying to get toothpaste back in the squeeze tube. It ain't happenin'.

I rolled up the mat saying my apologies to this tragic wanderer and we went on our way. We hiked five more hours for the day and made camp at sundown. I blew up the pad again (trying to ignore the fact that there was now a dead bug fluttering around inside) and went to sleep.

Woke up. Got the food bag out of the tree. Ate breakfast. Started packing up for the day. And as I'm rolling up my neo-air, yet again, there's Anty still alive and kicking and probably having the time of his life!

I couldn't believe he had survived the journey and throughout the night. Incredible! Incredible... and still hopelessly trapped inside my air mattress.

So naturally, I spent the next twenty minutes trying to free the little guy. My frustration grew as this ant kept hobbling along in the wrong direction of his one and only exit to freedom. Ahhh what am I doing?! I'm wasting our time trying to free a dumb ant from my sleeping pad! How is he even still alive?

I was about to give up until I had one final thought to get him out. With the little remaining air still inside, I bagpiped that sucker and YES! Anty shot out of there like he was being fired from a whale's blowhole.

I shared my excitement with Anna and we celebrated with high fives. Anty seemed a bit shaken (wouldn't we all?), so we found a leaf and put some water and a craisin on it. I placed Anty on the leaf with his peace offering, and instantly he attached himself to that craisin and started feasting. I imagined a pilgrim coming to the New World and kissing the ground when they finally landed. This little ant kissed a craisin.

I think I speak for all three of us to say it was a joyous moment. We said our goodbyes to Anty, the Wanderer, and we left him to his feast as we started our day (he never left that craisin).

What an interesting and bizarre way to start a day, right?

Well, he's just an ant, Micah. How many have you killed in your lifetime? How many have tried to bite you and steal your picnic food and invade your house? He's just another ant.

My friends, I am the ant.