It's over.

Sorry it has taken me so long to post anything, I'd be surprised if anyone has the patience to keep checking a non-updated blog, but here I am regardless. To be honest, I kept putting off writing a post because I have been at a loss for words. Since I returned, I have talked to a bunch of people who ask me how the Trail was, and I find myself unable to answer them. It was such a, well, BIG experience! Six and a half months, highs, lows, in-betweens, boring days, exhilarating days, 25 milers and zeros.

Another reason I have had trouble coming to some kind of grand conclusion is the awkward way my hike ended, in a way. I was extremely fortunate to have my dad and Mr. Bush, a family friend and father of one of my closest friends from home, join me for the spectacular ascent of Katahdin. It was a surreal experience, and one of the most magnificent mountains of the entire trek. Afterwards, we met up with Jake (!!!) at the base of the mountain, and went to the Bush's summer house near Bangor and drove home from there. Once home, I took a day just recovering physically, and then jumped right back in to working on the house restoration. I felt bad asking for more time to recover/adjust, seeing as I was coming back from a 6.5 month vacation, and underestimated how unprepared I was.

Luckily, and thanks to my unbelievable friends, I got to see off my trail experience more properly. After a re-energizing visit to Jared at Fairfield, I was visited by Grizzle on his way back to Georgia. Grizz stayed in town for a few days, helping at the house and hanging out for baseball games. After that, Jake, Candybar and Tater all arrived for one last night in the basement and one last "High school hangout". We road-tripped into Boston, where we watched Game 1 of the World Series from a bar RIGHT outside of Fenway, and stayed with the always amazing Tobin. This morning, we drove back to Gbury, parting ways with Jake as he returned to Philly, and drove into New Haven to visit Tater's friends at Yale and watch Game 2.

...And then we parted ways, as I drove back home and Tater and Candybar stayed in New Haven, from whence they will travel back to their respective homes.

Saying goodbye to those guys gave the trip a sense of closure, and made the drive home in the wee hours of the night surprisingly emotional. After spending months bonding with hikers in the ridiculously close contact we keep, getting to know them like family, it is finally to a point where I don't know when I will see them again.

I realized that saying goodbye to Tate, CB, Grizz, Jake and everyone else was at LEAST as hard as saying goodbye to the woods that had become home over the summer. A thru hike, at least for me, does not happen in a vacuum. It is not just you and the Trail. Instead, the AT is a venue for an adventure. It is the backdrop, the unwavering constant in a lifestyle that is otherwise unpredictable and sometimes absurd. You never know how far you'll go, how you'll get there, who you'll be with, what will happen, but you do know that you will keep hiking North, keep following the white blazes until they stop. When they do stop, dramatically and suddenly atop Katahdin, I came to a flash realization that hiking to this summit was not the point. If I had wanted to get to Baxter Peak so badly, I would have driven to Millinocket and day hiked up!

No, the uber-simplistic and linear goal of hiking from Georgia to Maine is a concrete anchor to which thru hikers can tie their own goals or desires. We don't hit the trail just to walk in the woods, we do it to learn something about ourselves, or our world, or to find a lost spark, or any number of unique reasons.

So when you ask me how the trail was, don't think I'm being a jerk or blowing you off if I have a hard time answering. I'm not trying to make it into something it isn't: It's not the most extreme adventure, or the most difficult, or anything like that. I am more impressed by people who successfully live abroad, or better tackle the challenges of everyday life, than by the achievement of thru-hiking. But even if it isn't the greatest accomplishment, it is something tremendously special. It is a chance to live a drastically more simple life, to enjoy the simple silence of the world's surviving wild places, a six month service in the vast green cathedral we call home.

To all my brothers and sisters from the trail: thank you so much. You were the alpha and omega of my trail experience, and I'll cherish the pictures and memories of you more than you know. To the friends and family without whom I couldn't have made the first step, especially to Mom for providing ridiculous amounts of home support, and Dad for taking time from his unbelievably hectic schedule to come out to the woods, a million thanks.