 Floatin' with my crocs up in Maine |
The southwestern part of Maine was vacant. For a few days I didn't see a single house or hear any cars. Without any wind, the sound of total stillness gives your ears a faint ring. This is what I pictured the hike to be, and I had been disenchanted with some earlier stretches that were far less remote. I remember two days of real solo hiking, only seeing hikers at the shelters. Its hard to describe how different it is not running into hikers every ten minutes. Soo much better. I had no problems with the solitude, especially knowing I would be finished in two weeks.
Mile 1973 brought me to Sugarloaf Mountain, where I hiked .5 off the trail up to "The Summit House." Sugarloaf was an old ski resort, and the Summit House was the restaurant at the top that they never tore down. It had a pretty deserted feeling to it, and I was glad to have made it just after sunset, before it got pitch black. I was there by myself, and had to wake up a few times because the steady wind kept opening the door. I finally propped my hiking pole to keep it shut, but the wind was raging through the night. The next morning I woke up and walking out on the summit could see Mt. Washington to the southwest, and my first view of Mt. Katahdin to the northeast. One sixth the entire trail!
 2000 Mile Marker, Maine |
Mile 2160 brought me to Abol Stream, the "postcard" view of Mt. Katahdin, and in the sunset it looked amazing. It towers at least 2,000ft above anything in sight, and I believe it's the only 5,000ft peak in Maine. My dad met me out for this and climbed it with me. They say it's the hardest mountain on the hike, and it just might be. There was lots of technical scrambling and a steady wind. There were about thirty people on the summit, and one hiker was nice enough to give me a mini bottle of champagne to open. Just like the beginning of the hike, none of it really hit me all at once. I didn't really feel like crying, that's for sure. I was so ready to be finished and so tired of hiking that it was only half celebration, the other half relief.
I should also mention Earl Schaffer, the first thru-hiker. He was also a source of inspiration. The trail was completed in the 1930's, but before his hike, nobody thought it could be done (or at least no one understood why someone would). He served in World War II, and when he returned he had lost his best friend. He said he had to "hike it out of his system," and did the hike again fifty years later. He passed in 2002 of cancer. He wrote about his first hike "Walking with Spring."
 Summit shot of Mt. Katahdin, August 17th |
"White Blazer" - A purist. The trail is marked by these two by six inch white blazed on the trees, and a white blazer has seen 'em all.
"Blue Blazer" - Term used for shortcuts taken on the trail, usually justified by bad weather. On top of most balds and exposed ridges, there are blue blazes through the trees that will get you there easier. Though it also is the term used when you see a quicker way into town.
"Yellow Blazer" - Its a term used to describe a thru-hiker who has decided he or she has had enough of a particular stretch and hitchhikes up the trail a ways. Them, I don't like. It refers to those who follow the yellow lines of the highway over the white blazes of the trail. When the going gets tough...Bill Bryson, for example. Now, just because someone has done some yellow blazing or lots of blue blazing does not deny them of the title thru- hiker. Its usually pretty well known who is a purist, and who just jumped two days ahead of you. I had heard from one hiker that anyone who does enough yellow blazing should get the word "yellow" worked into their trailname.
"Pink Blazer" - A newer term, but age old tradition of a guy hiker blue blazing, yellow blazing, feigning injury, ect. to stay on track with a female hiker. It is a term used when the feeling is not mutual. I don't want to call anyone out on this one, but I've seen it done a few times. You know who you are!
 Kaya, waiting patiently outside a restaurant in Shenandoah |
"Flip Flopper" - Someone who thru-hikes, but breaks the hike into two sections. I met about a dozen flip-floppers who started from Springer in May, but just couldn't take the summer heat, and around halfway north, they went up to Maine to hike south. Flip flopping is pretty much the only comfortable way to hike unless you start north in the spring, or south in the summer.
"2000 Miler" - A term used to describe someone who has hiked the entire length of the trail, no skipping (Does not refer to anyone who has hiked 2000 miles of the trail). So I guess its a white blazer's thru-hike. I just emailed the Appalachian Trail Conference to see if I made the cut. I skipped a half mile into Pearisburg, VA and was driven over about .3 miles of the trail outside Shenandoah. Because I didn't hike every white blaze, and I'm on the honor system here, I'm technically not a 2000 miler. But I'm not really kicking myself, most people skip a bit more.
"My favorite part of the hike" - This question did take some thought, but one answer stuck out for me. It was having the energy to hike long and hard every day, especially when it was colder out and we would have a nice fire. You never get tired of the feeling of accomplishment-while I pat myself on the back here. I never go on fifteen mile day hikes, and cancel all plans if the weather looks bad, but here I had no choice. It was a combination of great people and the long term goal of thru-hiking that brought me out and kept me on. So my favorite part of the hike was the first five hundred miles through the south, getting to rest my bones next to a fire at the end of the day.