The Wilderness

Here's the truth of the matter: the journey is almost over. The feelings I have I cannot easily describe to others, who are usually so eager to extract some sort of revelation or truth out of my 2,176 mile hike. The best I can do is tell them that this feels like the last week of high school; all my sentiments and experiences seemed warped by time, and what was so recent seems like a lifetime ago- but still, that is not an accurate comparison. A journey like this can only be known like a work of art- something that we can describe passionately to others, but can really only be understood by experiencing it for ourselves. So I can only describe for you what it feels like, being here in Maine, 114 miles away from the finish. It feels like many frigid nights, days with snow underfoot, warm hostels, copious quantities of hot food, scarce rations of cold food, American towns too small for maps, friendships through triumph and sadness, physical taxation, the glory of peaks, the misery of every type of thunderstorm, the oppressive summer heat, paranoia of insects, and the great simplicity of only living with less than 30 lbs. of possessions.
Still, things aren't over yet. A friend of mine from high school, Will Davis, picked me up from Monson and has let me stay and recover at his house before heading into the 100-mile Wilderness- the last crucible. In many ways it is the culmination of a Northbound hike- 100 miles of untamed Maine backcountry- untouched by roads, and still in the hands of the forest's will. The last fourteen miles include the climb of Katahdin, the highest peak in Maine and the magical Mountain Deity. Maybe I will have some revelation for you then.