Aug 20th, 2018
A year has passed. One year ago today, I came off the Appalachian Trail.
It was devastating.
It was a relief.
It was a failure.
It was a victory.
It was the deferral of a dream
It was because I was hurt.
It was because I ran out of money.
It was because I needed to be home.
It was because I needed to be with my life partner.
And so it ended. When people talk about the reasons they end their thru-hike early, it tends to be because of one of the above “becauses”. For me it was ALL of them.
I’ve been rereading my blog entries, one-a-day (like the vitamins), since April 27th. It’s bittersweet to be reading the last of the trail blogs today. These past 90-ish days I’ve kind of had the experience that those who followed my blog in real time last year had. And I’ve found myself cheerleading myself from the perspective of a year later.
And I have been thinking, ”why couldn’t you have gone a few more miles each day, with fewer town days?” and “You could have done better”.
Then I let myself sink into the actual memories of those days, and remember the shoulder pain, the foot pain, the feelings of being wet and cold, of putting on those wet clothes in the early morning, of looking at the trail going up (or down) and feeling dismay, and I feel again the weight of the physicality and of the emotions.
And I am amazed.
90+ days. ~820 miles. Countless footsteps.
I met many people, and felt a kinship right away with them. I made a few really close friends, folks I miss today. It’s great to learn that Hops was able to get back on trail and complete the full 2190 miles, and that Tillie could meet up with him and celebrate it with him. To learn that this year Boss and Goddess came back and finished, and that Groceries got her last miles in. They give me some hope that maybe my coming off trail really is just a deferment of my own dream.
And I continue to dream. In dreams I’m back on trail, and I am in community.
And I daydream, thinking about my next adventure, getting out into the woods with my faithful trail companion, Ernie the potcake. Or exploring the NH State Park system.


Pawtuckaway State Park, Nottingham, NH
I would very much like to hike the AT through the Presidential range sometime this year, and, collaterally, bump my total mileage up some.
Because it shouldn’t really be about the number of miles. I was able to let those milestones go to the point that it was often in retrospect that it occurred to me that I had reached another one.
And yet, the miles often became synonymous with the effort. And 2190, the big milestone, the one that would mean I was a thru-hiker, that was impossible. I knew that at the start, and had to work at pushing it out of my mind, to take the trail one day at a time, one step at a time, because that WAS possible. If by doing the possible one step at a time I had made it all the way in one year, then the impossible would have become the possible. And there are many, many folks who are able to perform that magical feat, and more every year.
I pulled off the impossible feat of walking 820 miles.
I don’t think I’m done yet.


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