The Last Section: Part 1

This is part 1 of a 188-mile northbound section hike of the Appalachian Trail in Maine in September 2023. I started hiking at the road crossing near the town of Stratton, ME and finished at Mt. Katahdin in Baxter State Park, the northern terminus of the trail!  

Sometimes the Hard Part is Getting There

This being my last section of the trail, it would seem that I should have had my hike prep down to a science. But if someone were hovering in the corner of my apartment watching me, they would have seen a whole lot of organized chaos. 

There I was, surrounded by scattered piles of beef jerky and ramen noodles among a couple empty boxes on my floor, in the midst of putting a food resupply together yet somehow still grappling with whether or not I should even go on this hike. 

I battle a lot of guilt when it comes to going on these adventures. It’s all I want to do, I love being there, yet it takes away time from my friends and family. And contrary to what it may seem, it’s not so much being gone on the hike itself that takes that time away, but the time in-between the hikes. My hope during the in-between time is always to work a ton of flight hours, get in shape and dehydrate some of my own food, among other things. But I rarely accomplish this, because I can’t keep up with preparing for the next section while also giving time to be the best friend and family member that I can be. I know that if I always did what I wanted to do, then people I care about would see a lot less of me than they already do, and that is a hard topic to grapple with. 

Why it was hitting me so hard so close to the end of the trail isn’t exactly known. Maybe part of me was also afraid of finishing it, because I didn’t know what it would feel like and I really didn’t want it to be over. I was scared of the emotion that could potentially come with completion. Fortunately, a few strong voices of those same friends I just referred to were helpful in convincing me that I was so close to the end and needed to do it now, while I could. 

Traveling to the trail is always the most stressful part for me, because I never know how it’s going to pan out. Ironic, considering I work in the airlines. Yet one way or another, it always does pan out, and in the late morning of September 9th I was standing at the trailhead at ME Route 27 outside of Stratton, Maine. 

Day 1: Trailhead at ME Route 27 to Bigelow Col Campsite

The last time I was at that spot, it was August of 2021 after I started a long section hike in Boiling Springs, PA and walked a lot of miles to be halfway through Maine and to my frustration, go home. But things always work out. Had I finished the section then, I would have reached Mt. Katahdin with a couple small sections yet to hike in the South, and also have finished out Maine exhausted with a lot of life stressors going on in the background. This time, once I was at that trailhead, I knew I was finishing the trail the way I was supposed to finish it. 

Granted, I was a little nervous. I was starting right up the Bigelow Range on Day 1, with my city legs. Those feelings wouldn’t even be there if I had been naive and never hiked in Maine before. It was knowing what I was getting into that was causing the nerves and I almost longed for the ignorant bliss that can come with not knowing what the hell I’m doing. 

These Maine mountains are tough. Although they top out around 4,000-6,000 feet, generally speaking, the “trails” are steep and rugged. Quite frequently, there are moments when I have to use my hands or take a step equivalent to the size of skipping a stair or two on a staircase. 

Well, up I went. I was planning for eight miles, and I knew that eight miles, on that mountain on day one with a full pack, was going to be questionable. Especially since I couldn’t start very early, as I had been in Augusta, ME that morning and had to get a ride a couple hours up to the trailhead. But the day was incredible. I couldn’t have asked for better weather, and by the time I reached Bigelow West Peak, I felt like I was on top of the world. It was like being a tourist and coming home, all at the same time. 

 

In typical AT fashion, it didn’t take long for me to come down from the top of the world and be humbled by something. I reached my goal of getting to Bigelow Col campsite before the sun set, and when all was said and done, I think I spent cumulative hours of time between both being unable to find the remaining open tent sites, and then searching for the water source. There were two sources. One was dry, and the other was essentially a puddle, as I finally found out after having to interrupt a group of eight friends enjoying their evening chatter at camp to inquire about the water-source whereabouts. 

One member of the group actually had to walk me to the spring (puddle) after I didn’t manage to follow their directions successfully the first time. Despite reassuring me that they all had the same problem as I did when they arrived at camp, I was so embarrassed inside. But I guess I got the very feeling that I had somehow been jealous of earlier in the day. I retreated to my tent, got cozy, and wondered what the hell I was doing there. It was so good to be back.

Read part 2 here!