Final Post
If you have been following my blog for the last three months, thank you for being part of my journey. I am honored that you found this stuff interesting enough to read. Sharing some of my thoughts and experiences from the trail through this blog has helped me clarify my own understanding and create a personal narrative of what I consider to be the coolest thing I have ever done.
Some closing thoughts after nearly at week home...
I am in awe of anyone who though-hikes the entire trail in one year. It takes a far greater level of commitment (or maybe it's plain mulishness) than I possess to spend day after day and month after month walking through the woods with a pack on your back. It's not the hills or rocks or trail food or lack of creature comfort that makes it so hard to finish. Those, in fact, are a large part of the attraction. Rather, it is the price you have to pay in forfeited opportunities that can erode the commitment. Taking five-million steps on one path requires a singleness of purpose I don't have the attention span for. Frankly, once I felt I had accomplished the inner goals that prompted me to want to hike the AT in the first place, I became bored with the sameness of each day. I guess that statement captures my ultimate fear of life in general - becoming bored with the sameness of each day.
The most uplifting part of my trek has to be the amazing people I met on the trail - people of all ages, shapes, and sizes from all over the world each with a unique reason for hiking for months on end. People like Shaky and Puddin', a retired couple hiking 600-mile sections of the AT every year until they finish. Or Fossil and Double F - a couple of septuagenarian good old boys from South Carolina walking only five or six miles a day but embracing every moment. Or Isabel - a sometime ski-bum and whitewater rafting guide and full time word-lover who comfortably uses words like "petrichor" and "esprit de l'escalier." Or Arthur, a very successful chef and fascinating autodidact who gave up his career to hike the trail. I don't know how he was doing it. He had lost nearly 50 pounds in his first month on the trail and was still well over 300 pounds. And there were Borderline, Trail Boss, Mouse Trap, Sir-Packs-a-Lot, Fearless, Bear Meat, Lucky 59 and PepperPot just to name a very few of the inhabitants of the Trail. I met so many amazing people who share almost nothing in common except a love for the trail and a quiet, self-reliant approach to life. The AT subculture is not perfect. Wherever there are people there will be assholes and idiots. But the denizens of the trail are a special group and I am honored to have been welcomed into their world for the last three months.
One very special member of the AT nation became my hiking partner and, over nearly 250 miles together, a very good friend. Tom "JusMel" started from Springer Mountain the same day that I did. Probably a dozen others also started that day. We all shared space at the first shelter on the trail after a hard thunderstorm initiated us all to the trail. The next day JusMel and I ran into each other a few miles from the shelter and began hiking together. Two old Boomers talking about music, travels, trails, and family, we were simpatico from the beginning. Over the next three weeks, we shared the trail, shelters, hostels, hotel rooms and, more importantly, a mutual love for the outdoors. My commitment to hiking was already wavering and I am not sure how far I would have gone without the company of JusMel. But I do know that finishing the hike together with a week of perfect weather in the Smokies was the ideal ending to my journey. Thank you, Tom JusMel Kentucky, for your company and your friendship. We will most certainly hike more miles together in the years to come.
Finally, I just want to say that I changed on the trail. I think I changed for the better. Pepsi was a more interesting person than Paul and I loved living that alter ego. He was comfortable meeting new people every day and sharing intimate space with strangers. He listened to people tell their stories and he told stories of his own. He was always up even when the rain poured and he was soaked to the skin. He was resilient. He was likeable. And he was able to talk about his deepest thoughts with an openness that surprised even him. But Pepsi is retired now and it's just Paul from here on.
I already feel homeostasis pulling me back from my Pepsi-ness. But part of Pepsi will always be here in one form or another. And I can always go back and hike the remaining 1,300 miles if I need to find him again.
Let me know if you want to join me on that journey.r
Some closing thoughts after nearly at week home...
I am in awe of anyone who though-hikes the entire trail in one year. It takes a far greater level of commitment (or maybe it's plain mulishness) than I possess to spend day after day and month after month walking through the woods with a pack on your back. It's not the hills or rocks or trail food or lack of creature comfort that makes it so hard to finish. Those, in fact, are a large part of the attraction. Rather, it is the price you have to pay in forfeited opportunities that can erode the commitment. Taking five-million steps on one path requires a singleness of purpose I don't have the attention span for. Frankly, once I felt I had accomplished the inner goals that prompted me to want to hike the AT in the first place, I became bored with the sameness of each day. I guess that statement captures my ultimate fear of life in general - becoming bored with the sameness of each day.
The most uplifting part of my trek has to be the amazing people I met on the trail - people of all ages, shapes, and sizes from all over the world each with a unique reason for hiking for months on end. People like Shaky and Puddin', a retired couple hiking 600-mile sections of the AT every year until they finish. Or Fossil and Double F - a couple of septuagenarian good old boys from South Carolina walking only five or six miles a day but embracing every moment. Or Isabel - a sometime ski-bum and whitewater rafting guide and full time word-lover who comfortably uses words like "petrichor" and "esprit de l'escalier." Or Arthur, a very successful chef and fascinating autodidact who gave up his career to hike the trail. I don't know how he was doing it. He had lost nearly 50 pounds in his first month on the trail and was still well over 300 pounds. And there were Borderline, Trail Boss, Mouse Trap, Sir-Packs-a-Lot, Fearless, Bear Meat, Lucky 59 and PepperPot just to name a very few of the inhabitants of the Trail. I met so many amazing people who share almost nothing in common except a love for the trail and a quiet, self-reliant approach to life. The AT subculture is not perfect. Wherever there are people there will be assholes and idiots. But the denizens of the trail are a special group and I am honored to have been welcomed into their world for the last three months.
One very special member of the AT nation became my hiking partner and, over nearly 250 miles together, a very good friend. Tom "JusMel" started from Springer Mountain the same day that I did. Probably a dozen others also started that day. We all shared space at the first shelter on the trail after a hard thunderstorm initiated us all to the trail. The next day JusMel and I ran into each other a few miles from the shelter and began hiking together. Two old Boomers talking about music, travels, trails, and family, we were simpatico from the beginning. Over the next three weeks, we shared the trail, shelters, hostels, hotel rooms and, more importantly, a mutual love for the outdoors. My commitment to hiking was already wavering and I am not sure how far I would have gone without the company of JusMel. But I do know that finishing the hike together with a week of perfect weather in the Smokies was the ideal ending to my journey. Thank you, Tom JusMel Kentucky, for your company and your friendship. We will most certainly hike more miles together in the years to come.
Finally, I just want to say that I changed on the trail. I think I changed for the better. Pepsi was a more interesting person than Paul and I loved living that alter ego. He was comfortable meeting new people every day and sharing intimate space with strangers. He listened to people tell their stories and he told stories of his own. He was always up even when the rain poured and he was soaked to the skin. He was resilient. He was likeable. And he was able to talk about his deepest thoughts with an openness that surprised even him. But Pepsi is retired now and it's just Paul from here on.
I already feel homeostasis pulling me back from my Pepsi-ness. But part of Pepsi will always be here in one form or another. And I can always go back and hike the remaining 1,300 miles if I need to find him again.
Let me know if you want to join me on that journey.r
Signing off,w
Paul/Pepsi
Paul/Pepsi
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| The path is clear even when the destination is foggy |
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| When you come to a bridge, it's usually a good idea to cross it |
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| JusMel in the Smokies |
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| Breakfast at the last shelter |
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