Appalachian Trail, week 2…
Summits, Soreness, and State Lines
I am writing this from inside my tent, thinking about how I survived my first night sleeping alone— completely, utterly alone— in my entire life. Everything seems a little louder, more daunting, and less friendly when I don’t have a community to scope out potential (most times, irrational) dangers with. Yesterday marked the biggest accomplishment of my trip: I summited Mount Moosilauke, the first mountain in the White Mountain National Forest, and the mountain that about killed Josh and I when we summited it a couple years ago.
I’m starting to feel the awesome sense of community that pervades all thru-hikers on the Appalachian trail. The generosity, hospitality, and kindness I’ve experienced on this trip is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. The people are fantastic.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous to hike the White Mountains (known as the most dangerous, physically challenging, and beautiful part of the trail), but the experience is going to be absolutely spectacular. From Moosilauke to Maine, Katahdin here I come 
No comments:
Post a Comment