Catch-Up

I've made it to New Hampshire, and have only one state left to go.  The remaining milestones are slowly dwindling down to just a handful: I have one more state border to cross, the 2,000 mile marker, and then Katahdin.  (Small aside: if I can't manage to spell Katahdin correctly by the time I summit I think my thru-hiker license should be revoked.  Seriously, my mental block on the proper spelling of the northern terminus of the AT is ridiculous.) As I rapidly approach the end of my hike (although not right now, as I'm getting lost in music at my parents house while the rain comes pouring down outside), I've been having trouble summarizing my thoughts into coherent blog posts.  The trouble is magnified by a couple of things: first, I don't seem to have consistent cell phone service up here, which makes updating my blog with mini vignettes rather difficult (and also makes being in touch with those of you who want to meet up with me nearly impossible), and second, so much has happened in the past few weeks that I get overwhelmed when I think about sharing it. So please forgive me for the infrequent posting, forgive me for leaving things out, and forgive me for not sharing each and every moment. (Actually, don't forgive me for that one, but just be grateful.  I suspect that you really don't want to know my thoughts on the most recent privies I've encountered, which generally have not had doors or walls or lids.)

Last week my friend Elsbeth and her wonder-dog Duke were hiking with me, and got to participate in the full range of thru-hiker experiences.  She hiked in the rain, up steep hills, and got stuck in mud up to her calves. She saw beautiful vistas from high, craggy cliffs, and inhaled the odors given off by wet dirt and grass and leaves.  She filled her belly with blackberries, and ate ice cream and pie as often as we could manage. She felt the joy that comes along with crossing a state boundary, finding unexpected soda chilling in a nearby stream, and entering a hiker town and finding oneself instantly surrounded by hikers who are your immediate friends based solely on shared experience.  She marveled at each flower, listened to the loons, and reminded me of the beauty of the forest that after 1,700 miles I don't always see right away.  Lately the trail has felt like normal life, as if everyone wakes up every morning and stumbles out of their tent, hikes all day long, and then watches shooting stars from a fire tower at night.  Having her along for five days has made me pause and see just how magical my life really is.  I can't believe that in the past thousand or so miles I'd forgotten that.

The goodbye hug.

I'd like to write more at the moment, but I need to patch my long johns and hang out more with my parents before I hit the trail this afternoon.  Posting may be infrequent during the next month as I finish up this journey, but please know that I appreciate each and every thought and well wish that you send my way.  I don't have many mail drops left, nor do I know exactly when I'm going to be finishing (a month or so, I suspect).  If you are interested, you can write to me by the following dates at these addresses: Bree Carlson, Thru-Hiker; General Delivery,

• Rangeley, ME 04970 (August 25)
• Caratunk, ME 04925 (September 1)
• Millinocket, ME 04462 (September 9)

Thank you.