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September 19, 2003: For the second time in as many weeks, I am approaching the summit of Maine's highest peak, Mt. Katahdin. I am sweaty, tired, my knees hurt, and man, am I starving! I am, again, proud of this feat, pleased by the day's great acconiplishment. Then, with the same suddenness and determination of a gust of wind rushing across a mountaintop, one single guy puts my day into perspective. He is hanging upside down from the Mt. Katahdin Summit sign, holding on by the backs of his knees; his long beard and dirty clothes dangle toward the ground. This guy has just hiked over 2,100 miles from Georgia to this spot in Maine to complete the Appalachian Trail.
I wasn't actually surprised to find AT finishers at the top. In fact, that's exactly why I was there. At that very summit, two weeks prior, 1 had been contentedly eating my GORP and assortment of other trail and junk foods, when I heard a distinctly familiar sound: a beer can opening. Five thousand and some feet above sea level, I turned around, feeling' and tasting, a mixture of surprise and envy. Sure enough, I saw a middle-aged mustached man slugging off a Budweiser; his girlfriend's son had just completed the AT, and the couple had come all the way from New York to support and accompa.ny him on the final climb of the trail; they had champagne and beer to celebrate.
As I was descending the mountain, my thoughts lingered on the AT finisher. Something about the Appalachian Trail, and those who choose to devote six months of their lives to hike it, intrigues me. Many people would consider such a task to be voluntary hell...myself perhaps included. Knowing other thru-hikers, I've of course heard their accounts of the journey, and I've read A Walk in the Woods, but on this particular day I'd missed an opportunity to talk with someone at the height of their emotional involvement in the experience and the momentous completion.
So I drove up to Baxter State Park again, camped, awoke early, saw a moose duck into the woods-not relevant to the story, but always a Northern Maine highlight - and set out with my supply of food, water; and this time, a pen and paper.
The hikers I met at the top were D=RT (pronounced "dirt") from Missoula, Montana, Sidetrack from Nutley, New Jersey, Odyssey from Lynn, Massachusetts, Axil Rose" from Rock Island, Illinois, and Enzyme from Madison, Wisconsin. D= RT was the guy hanging from the sign:
I was hoping to initiate a dialogue, allowing the hikers to shape our discourse by how they were feeling. All five hikers were extremely willing to answer my prepared questions, but I didn't get the gush of emotional response I was anticipating; I suspect the enormous realization hadn't yet sunk in, and I was understandably a bit of an outsider, not quite able to share in the experience.
Our conversation seemed to steer toward eating and appetite quite often. For example, when I asked what words or associations come to mind when they heard the word "day hiker," Sidetrack immediately responded with an enthusiastic "Food!"
Naturally, I felt immediately ashamed that I didn't have any food in my little daypack I was willing to share, but hey, I just hiked four hours! The distinct smell of cleanliness and the predictable sight of cotton were, incidentally, also associations with day hikers.
What items, besides the obvious gear, proved to be surprisingly useful?
Sidetrack: My Victoria's Secret blue silk PJ bottoms. Comfortable AND warm. (She is wearing them).
Odyssey: My spoon for peanut butter.
Odyssey's response provokes Sidetrack to launch into an anecdote about still having a plastic disposable spoon she picked up in Helen, Georgia the first time she hiked the AT a few years prior.
It also provides an apt example of how Sidetrack got her trail name.
Who did you miss the most and who did you miss the least?
Sidetrack: I miss my mom and my cat the most.
Odyssey: My dogs. (Neither answers the second part of the question).
D= RT: My ex-girlfriend. For both answers.
Speaking of relationships, what is the singles scene like on the AT?
D= RT: I met someone on the trail the first time I hiked it in 2000. We dated for two and a half years.
I confirm that this is the previously alluded to ex. All three hikers agree that people hook up often.
Odyssey: I was not expecting so much "drama" on the trail.
Sidetrack: You get to know people really fast. If you hang out for one night you feel like you've known someone forever. Eleven days feels like forever! If you get sick of someone you can just out-hike them. Or, the love of your life might get Lyme Disease. and have to leave the trail... (meaningful and amused glances are exchanged between Sidetrack and Odyssey).
How do you feel right now, being done?
Odyssey: I don't feel as ecstatic or as sad as I thought I would. It'll hit us later.
Sidetrack: It's sad. We're not necessarily going to see everyone again, starting with tonight "at the shelter. I keep in contact with some people I met last time, but we still all go our separate ways.
What advice do you have for anyone thinking about hiking the AT?
All: Go north! (Which means starting in Georgia and ending on Mt. Katahdin. They tell me that hiking from north to south is anticlimactic, and flip-flopping - breaking the trail into two pieces - is also a letdown.
Sidetrack: This is one of the prettiest hikes and summits on the AT. There's no climb like it [Hunt Trail]. I flip-flopped my first time, and that t was part of the reason I wanted to hike it again.
Where are the majority of hikers from? Lots of Mainers?
Axil Rose: Lots of East Coasters.
D= RT: Lots of people from Mass. Not a lot of people from Maine.
Anything else I should know?
Enzyme: Fresh fruit is a treat when we go into towns. Our appetites are pretty impressive.
Sidetrack: This is what I ate yesterday: A ten-serving bag of pretzels, two entire rows of Duplex cookies, two strips of beef jerky, a PowerBar, two granola bars, a SlimFast bar, a box of hummus, a baked potato, an entire box of gingersnaps ... what else? I can't even remember but I know there's more.
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