Thursday, September 10 10:10 pm 16.1 mi
AT 1895.6 Centennial Trail → AT 1911.7 Carlo Col Shelter
Weather: Hot and muggy, overcast
Trail Conditions: Last mile was relatively rugged, made tougher by the quickly darkening sunlight
My Condition: I’M IN MAINE!!! Can’t believe it! I walked from Georgia to Maine!!!
Long day of hiking, made quicker by Puddles’s game “Name That Name.” One person thinks of a person, and the others have to use yes/no questions to figure out who it is. For even more challenge, “Name That Thing” works the same way but isn’t limited to just people. Got caught pooping today for the very first time on the AT. She walked by with her two dogs and still said “good morning!” as I did my best to quickly cover up. Got emotional seeing the distant sunbeams, mountains, and general majesty at Mt. Success, also knowing how close I was to the Maine border. Waited for the whole trail fam to cross into the state altogether.
Post Trail Analysis
It is no fun getting caught with your pants down. Unfortunately, when you’ve gotta go, you’ve gotta go. I half-ran, half-shuffled to try to find a place with cover. Sadly, I was at the bottom of a valley, with a sparsely forested hillside next to me which didn’t provide any better options. Weighing my options, I looked around and saw I was in the clear. I decided to do the deed as quickly as possible. I was committed by the time I heard a car come to a halt, and heard the closing of car doors and the horn marking that the vehicle had been locked. At this point I’m doing my best to clean up and get myself decent as quickly as possible, praying silently that she was walking the opposite direction. She wasn’t. I was mostly covered up when she walked by and shouted her greeting, but I know she knew what I was doing, and I couldn’t be more sorry and embarrassed. This would be the one and only time I’ve been caught pooping in the woods, and frankly, it’s a wonder it doesn’t happen more often! Most hikers have their own similar story, or at the very least a close call.
I was hit by a tidal wave of emotion as I crested the wide open expanse leading up to Mt. Success, seeing the sunbeams peeking through the clouds and the layers upon layers of glorious mountains. Not only was I floored by the beauty of this particular moment, I knew I was about to make my final state crossing into Maine. I’m getting goosebumps right now remembering the scene. In the face of so many challenges – rugged terrain, living in the elements all day every day on the trail, the sore muscles, the sweaty days, the soaked through to the bone days, the bumps and bruises, sprains and strains, the blisters, and on top of it all, a pandemic – my goal that I had dreamed of for so long was almost within sight. I got choked up in that moment, filled with gratitude for what my body and gear had endured, for the inner strength I had found through the journey, for the many kindnesses I was blessed with along the way, and for the people I was with. This mountain was aptly named, and I could feel the success of this adventure humming, buzzing, radiating within me.
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