I think it was said once before "holy shit I have knees!"
So I'm 272 miles in. That means I'm over 10% done, and have fewer than 2000 miles left. These are great milestones.
Other statistics include: 2 sunny days, 2 half sunny days, all other days wet or snowy.
Two obscene care packages and one "anonymous" postcard. High fives all around you mischievous planners you!
Words of wisdom: if it snows and then gets warm, you get mud. If you have mud and it rains all day, you get rivers and lakes. If you have rivers and lakes and it freezes all night, you get skating rinks! And that is the Smokies.
I hate the Smokies. From what I learned in one sunny day there, it is usually very beautiful. But when it is foggy and muddy, it is not beautiful. And you have to sleep in shelters, but if a weekend tourist wants to sleep in the shelter, they tell you to set up your tent in the mud. But sometimes the Smokies are very beautiful. The end.
This is really an indescribable experience. My first journal is already almost full, blathering on about emotions and exercise and plans and joys. After a day or two, every single challenge that wasn't immediately rewarding, becomes a landmark. Time goes very slow, even when I hike 3 miles per hour. We do not multitask. We talk about our feet, and our packs, how far we plan to hike that day, try to keep track of our friends days ahead of us and behind, and the food we plan on eating. We talk about why we're here and why we'll stay. We hike for 8 to 10 hours, find a place to camp, crawl in our sleeping bags at 4 pm and start making dinner. There's a community along the trail of people who still like living in this other-ness, who have started hostels and stores or shuttle services to help us out, and we are insulated from normal laws and etiquette... and hygiene.
I feel like a year has passed in the real world. I've covered so much ground and met so many people and filled my days with moments of pure bliss and then moments of animalistic exertion. In the last four days I hiked 20, 18, 15, and then 18 miles. I'm losing weight because I won't carry enough food to cover the calories I burn. My knees suddenly started talking to me yesterday, so I'm taking today off. I've planned all of 2010 for myself and a few other people. I have no idea when I'll finish, but some have told me at this rate it'll be August. September seems more likely.
This is a simple life, but it is the hardest lifestyle I have ever maintained. Every day is an achievement in my simple little brain, in my tiny little life. When people who help me along the trail show me pictures of the past hikers who sent them photos of Katahdin, I get choked up. Imagining being free of the white blaze is an odd idea. Terrifying. Powerful. Unparalleled. And I've only just begun.
With love, and hours of apologies for not being able to maintain my treasured friendships- to all my friends, I wish I could stay in your lives, updated and constant; so thank you for understanding that I cannot, and supporting me anyway. I am so lucky to have you all in my heart.
Other statistics include: 2 sunny days, 2 half sunny days, all other days wet or snowy.
Two obscene care packages and one "anonymous" postcard. High fives all around you mischievous planners you!
Words of wisdom: if it snows and then gets warm, you get mud. If you have mud and it rains all day, you get rivers and lakes. If you have rivers and lakes and it freezes all night, you get skating rinks! And that is the Smokies.
I hate the Smokies. From what I learned in one sunny day there, it is usually very beautiful. But when it is foggy and muddy, it is not beautiful. And you have to sleep in shelters, but if a weekend tourist wants to sleep in the shelter, they tell you to set up your tent in the mud. But sometimes the Smokies are very beautiful. The end.
This is really an indescribable experience. My first journal is already almost full, blathering on about emotions and exercise and plans and joys. After a day or two, every single challenge that wasn't immediately rewarding, becomes a landmark. Time goes very slow, even when I hike 3 miles per hour. We do not multitask. We talk about our feet, and our packs, how far we plan to hike that day, try to keep track of our friends days ahead of us and behind, and the food we plan on eating. We talk about why we're here and why we'll stay. We hike for 8 to 10 hours, find a place to camp, crawl in our sleeping bags at 4 pm and start making dinner. There's a community along the trail of people who still like living in this other-ness, who have started hostels and stores or shuttle services to help us out, and we are insulated from normal laws and etiquette... and hygiene.
I feel like a year has passed in the real world. I've covered so much ground and met so many people and filled my days with moments of pure bliss and then moments of animalistic exertion. In the last four days I hiked 20, 18, 15, and then 18 miles. I'm losing weight because I won't carry enough food to cover the calories I burn. My knees suddenly started talking to me yesterday, so I'm taking today off. I've planned all of 2010 for myself and a few other people. I have no idea when I'll finish, but some have told me at this rate it'll be August. September seems more likely.
This is a simple life, but it is the hardest lifestyle I have ever maintained. Every day is an achievement in my simple little brain, in my tiny little life. When people who help me along the trail show me pictures of the past hikers who sent them photos of Katahdin, I get choked up. Imagining being free of the white blaze is an odd idea. Terrifying. Powerful. Unparalleled. And I've only just begun.
With love, and hours of apologies for not being able to maintain my treasured friendships- to all my friends, I wish I could stay in your lives, updated and constant; so thank you for understanding that I cannot, and supporting me anyway. I am so lucky to have you all in my heart.
posted by Sara Haxby at
10:56 AM
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