Mount Katahdin: A Good Stretch of the Legs
This year, Belgrade’s community read is Heartwood, by Amity Gaige, a mystery that takes place on the Appalachian Trail in Maine. As I read the book, I recalled our trek up Katahdin, the highest peak in Maine. It is the end of the Appalachian Trail, a hike of almost 2200 miles that begins in Springer, Georgia. Katahdin has been revered as a sacred place by many cultures over the centuries. When you reach the summit, you experience its magnificence and feel the awe. Make the trek if you can. Put it on your bucket list.
In 2002 when my husband and I were younger, in our sixties, we drove to Baxter State Park and decided to hike Mt. Katahdin. It seemed like a good idea. We liked hiking and had recently done a ten-mile hike at Gulf Hagus, a side trail off the Appalachian Trail, a beautiful ridge walk by brooks and waterfalls. Katahdin would be about 10 miles.
We knew nothing about Katahdin, how rugged and strenuous it was. At Baxter State Park, we set up our tent. While we roasted hot dogs, my husband made a walking stick for me. That gift would be so helpful on the trail.
The next morning we began the trek to the summit on a nice trail, a gradual slope upwards through the woods. How lovely I thought, but the path started getting rocky. Then the rocks turned into large boulders and the trail was even steeper. Steadily upwards like a staircase. Placing our feet carefully and looking for firm hand-holds. Now it was even a little scary. Miles to go.
The last two miles we were on loose rocks, interspersed with boulders. We were sweaty, had raw hands, blackfly bites and we swatted mosquitos continually. Along the way another hiker advised us to linger at a stream and soak our feet. “Your feet will thank you,” he said. And they did.
We reached the top and marveled at the exquisite, expansive view. Mountains all around. So worth the effort.
Then a man approached me and gave me a hug. He was a through-walker ending his trip, a trip that he claims saved his life. When he returned from military service he could not live in society. Now he was placing a little stone here on Katahdin, a pebble he had picked up at Springer Mountain in Georgia and had carried all the way to Maine. He said that reaching the end of the Appalachian Trail was a very emotional experience for him. He likened it to visiting the Viet Nam Wall in Washington DC. He had hiked the last leg of the trail with a man from Sydney, Australia who was just beginning his trek, Katahdin to Georgia. All the hikers had stories.
Reaching the top was not the end of the challenge. Knife’s Edge, a narrow walk, sometimes just three feet wide, with 2000 foot drops on both sides, presented yet another adventure. And the miles heading down the trail were almost as difficult as the trip up. Our hands got scraped holding the sharp edges of rocks. We ran out of water before we reached bottom. So tired and sweaty. Knees sore. But very happy. There was water in the car and between us I think we drank the better part of a gallon. We left the park, drove to the nearest town and the closest motel. Took a wonderful shower, Ibuprofin, and ordered pizza — to be delivered. We thought we were starved, but ate little, then fell asleep watching an old movie. When you come to the end of a perfect day…
Now, in our 80s, we are content to hike Mt. Phillip…
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