I didn’t know it then, but this is what our last day on the AT (for 2018) looked like. After four months, we conceded that while our hearts and minds and most of our bodies were aching to walk another 550 miles, Lucy (as I’ve dubbed Dean’s left foot) demanded and frankly, deserved otherwise.
For the one from Maine, everything since Georgia has been a “Katahdin approach trail”. The mountains and lakes and miles I was most excited to see still lay north. It’s heartbreaking to let that go.
And yet… I know that the trail was always just a sturdy container for the real journey, and the wildest wilderness is the one inside me.
Slowly (and with a fair bit of resistance) I am learning to relinquish my imagined plans and to surrender to the way it is.
And… because I got behind on sharing the last couple weeks, I still have photos from the hike from our travels through Massachusetts and southern Vermont.
It was my favorite stretch in many miles, the transition toward bigger forests and wilder country unmistakable. It was also a mess, the trail a giant mud pit from the intense nightly storms.