Finito!

As most of you already know, we have just rapped up our AT thru hike on September 1st. We appreciate all the support and confidence from everyone throughout this trip; we really couldn't have done it without you. We were picked up by Steve and Nancy Mandt and are slowly making our way home. We have put together a list of casualties from our trip purely for your entertainment....8 pairs of shoes, 4 pairs of trekking poles, 20 pounds of body weight, 3 Backpacks, 4 shirts, 4 pants/ shorts, 10 pairs of socks, 10 square feet of mole skin, 2 sleeping pads, 20 shed pounds of backpack weight, 1 sleeping bag, 5 toenails, 1 marriage.....just kidding!!!

Okay, I have commandeered the keyboard from Jess because this list is getting depressing. While both of us were entirely ready to get this trip over with, we both also correctly assumed that we would instantly miss the lifestyle and mindset that accompanied the journey. For several days we have tried to grasp and communicate what we have learned and experienced, but both of us have concluded that this is an impossible task. While we remain the same people, some intangible change has definitely occurred. First of all, we realize what we can do without, which, in today's society is entirely necessary. We have had to endure quite a bit of depravity from the comforts of a normal life, and the nearly monastic experience has brought with it a sense of change. The most notable change that occurred was directly related to our pace. Travelling across America at three miles per hour versus flying through the countryside in a car, allows you to actually get a feel for the culture and people that you meet along the way. We were fortunate enough to meet an incredible array of people that truly restored our faith in humanity. With the anxiety and stress that accompanies modern life at lightning speed, it isn't hard to become disillusioned with the inherent goodness in people. While in New York City, we could feel the jackrabbit pulse of the population, leading us to completely understand why everyone thinks "New Yorkers are assholes." It's not just that particular city; look at yourself in a traffic jam on a hot afternoon. You're in a hurry and all of the sudden, someone cuts you off and delays you by a mere two seconds. It is undeniable that a sense of rage instantly blooms within you, and a bout of cursing and swearing against all those stupid people will inevitably follow. I am so guilty of this on a daily basis that it isn't even funny. It is so easy to get worn down and pass sweeping judgement on humanity as a whole. It's only when you are standing on the side of a mountain road, dreaming of cheeseburgers and pizza, covered in grime and shivering due to the unexpected downpour that has suddenly enveloped you, leaving you looking like a half-drowned sewer rat, that someone in a truck will pull over and let you believe in people again. Not only will they drive you to town, but they might invite you into their home to clean up and share your stories with them. We have also realized that, as generic and hallmarkish as this may sound, we are fully capable of attaining any goal, however distant and difficult, that we seek. Choosing to hike 2000 miles is really no different than going to college, or starting a new job, or even deciding to lose weight. At times, all of these goals really suck. There is temporary pain and suffering, and while you are working towards them, they seem unattainable and never ending. The mind, however, is a funny thing, and memories are slowly disassembled and reformed. Most of the time, all that is remembered are the good times and the sense of accomplishment and achievement that accompanies reaching the finish line victorious. I told you earlier that this would be difficult to put into words, and after re-reading this, I realize that I have utterly failed to get my point across. Most of this may seem like ranting and babble, but after an hour and a half in front of the laptop, this is the best I can do. Maybe it's time to change gears and simply tell one more story. On our last night, we left the tent in the pack and laid our sleeping bags on the sandy banks of the Penobscot River. Looming above us was the nearly mile high massif that is Katahdin, accompanied by a spread of stars that I didn't dare begin to count. Throughout the night, the haunting calls of the loons were carried across the black water. By four in the morning, I had completely given up on sleeping, and we set off into the North woods of Baxter State Park. By nine we had reached the base of the mountain and exchanged our heavy packs for daypacks at the ranger station, where we discovered that we were the one hundred sixty third and fourth hikers out of the thousands that began to reach Katahdin. Shortly thereafter, we began climbing, and several miles later, we broke treeline in an intense wind and began slowly bouldering and climbing up the razors edge of a ridge that lead us to the summit. By eleven, we were standing next to the weather-beaten summit sign, posing and taking pictures with enormous smiles plastered on our faces. For the next hour we perched on a rock near the summit, looking down on hundreds of lakes that appeared like a mirror shattered and strewn across the landscape. As if this wasn't enough, whenever a section hiker made it to the lofty heights, completely spent and out of breath, they asked where we had hiked from. When they discovered that we had come from Georgia, and had just reached the end of a truly incredible journey, the response was always the same. They always had a mixed sense of awe at the sheer distance, but also a sense of inspiration that they too could set out and accomplish the same feat if only they so desired. I will not lie, that is the single greatest feeling in the world. We are excited to make it home, and we can't wait to see you all and share our pictures and stories. Hopefully, although I guarantee nothing, we will be able to better vocalize and epitamize the experience, and share a little bit of the fire that has been lit within us.