Reaching for the summit
There’s a spot on Mount Katahdin’s famed Table Lands called “Thoreau’s Spring”, named after Henry David Thoreau, who once roamed this plateau in his summit bid. The sign marking the spring it simply declares “Baxter Peak: 1 mile.” I turned to my hiking companion, Cookie, and said “One mile, that’s it? It’s over in one mile.”
He simply responded “Yeah, it really is.”
One mile to go. After walking 2,175.2 miles, there was only one to go. After traversing the Appalachian Mountains through 14 states by way of the Appalachian Trail, there was only one mile to go. After fighting through powerful winds, being chased by thunder and lightening on an exposed ridge, after walking through torrential down pours and unbearable heat, there was only one mile to go. After climbing to above 6,000 feet, and dropping to as low as 124 feet, there was only one mile to go.
It was time for me to complete the task, to walk that final mile. It was time for me to stand on that famed summit. The final mile was an emotional one. I was attempting to rationalize what it meant to me to actually see the summit, to know it’s no longer a distant goal but a visible objective. Then it hit me, there would be no tomorrow. Tomorrow I would not wake up and walk 20 miles. Tomorrow I would not wake up and complete the never ending array of town chores to prepare for the next stretch of trail. Tomorrow I would not wake up and wonder what America’s Footpath will throw my way next. Tomorrow it would really be over. Wait, it would really be over in less than a mile. A tear rolled down my face, containing my emotions was no longer necessary.
When I was a measly 1/10th of a mile from the summit, I finally saw the sign marking the end. I paused for a moment to regain my composure, and I glanced over at Cookie. He said to me in his southern accent, “There it is, Kirby.” I remained silent for a moment, and immediately broke down in tears.
I turned to Cookie and said, “Yeah, there it is. Go on ahead, I’ll meet you at the end.”
Seeing the sign was a powerful realization. I now realized that I would actually finish this trail, that I would go home victorious. I found it hard to believe I was actually standing where I was, considering everything it took for me to get that far.
I slowly started to walk towards the summit, passing the final white blazes that have guided me this far. With each step, the sign became that much closer. With each step, I shed another tear.
And then there it was, the famous sign marking the most powerful summit on which I’ve ever stood. I stood there for a moment, gazing at the faded wooden sign that was emblazoned with the simplistic yet powerful words:
Katahdin
Baxter Peak-5,267
Northern Terminus Of The Appalachian Trail
It was actually over. There were no more mountains to climb by way of America’s Footpath, there were actually no more white blazes to follow. I finally stood on that famed summit.
I through-hiked the Appalachian Trail.
Ga>ME 2008