Eating Elephants

I used to believe that cramming my emotions into the bottleneck of a contained jar was the appropriate way to weave through this world. To stockpile my darkest thoughts and beliefs onto the shelf that was hidden away, covered in dust and cobwebs. To take what was unnatural and unconventional and conceal those things with the standardized images of everyday life. Before walking into the woods I felt like a young man who was being constricted by the tight grasp of mediocracy, the constant social norms. I’ve disregarded the meaning of money and found wealth within this intangible and profound substance of the struggle of an everyday hiker. My feet ache, my back and hips have begun to chafe, leaving rash marks that make it difficult to mount the 40 pound pack onto my shoulders. I miss my family dearly, even through video chats and phone calls it comes nowhere close to matching the sensitivity of a hug, nor the scents of a home cooked meal, or the deep belly laughs that only come through the company of close friends.

The halfway point of this journey has been reached and Mount Katahdin feels like it’s just around the corner. She patiently awaits my arrival as I bide my time in the steps that become miles, miles that become days, days that become weeks and weeks that cycle into months. The more grueling the struggle, the greater the achievement! There are no words that I could jot down that may elaborate how it feels to be out here! To turn this into a lifestyle, driving my heart to beat a little faster but also dropping that same heartbeat down to a level of stoicism. That same stoicism that forces me to be calm in high stress situations. That same stoicism that allows me to ask the right questions through conversations with strangers. That same stoicism that allows me to be comfortable in solitude. To welcome those challenging thoughts, however, rather than treat my mind like a prison cell or punishing myself for sometimes thinking negatively, has become refreshing, all the while learning not to linger on them.

The road to the end becomes apparent in my mind as the days wind on. Nothing in this life lasts forever but I think that’s what makes this whole ordeal so spectacular. You will never again be as refreshed by those first scents of honey suckle, although the scent still remains refreshing. A song that you hear for the first time will never have that same indispensable feeling, even though you may return to that song thousands of times thereafter. All of the encounters of making love will never sear themselves into the brain quite like the first time, with your first partner as you undress each other and nervously proceed to act like you know what you’re doing. The memories gained from a good night out with friends will never again reveal themselves quite in that fashion, although most of us never lack the effort to relive such times.

As I sit on the porch of Battle Grounds Bakery and Coffee Shop in Harpers Ferry, West Virginia, peering out at the mountains that await me, I can’t help but to reflect on some of my fears. I fear that I am changing on this adventure in a way that no one back home will recognize me when I return, however, the conversations that will ensue when I do return are an exciting prospect to reflect upon. I fear that when I eventually finish, there will be a period in my life. A period of limbo, of severe contemplation as to what comes next for me, what hides behind the curtain of the future? I loathe the thought of rejoining society as it was before. In finding a profession, in trying to describe everything that I’ve seen out here, knowing that the stories I talk about will never do any of this adventure any justice. I fear that when I finish, I may lead a life in search of the same wanderlust that inspired me to do this in the first place, never again receiving the extent of substance that I have received on this particular Thru-Hike.

My cherry has been popped, although not in the sense of sexual adornment. Popped in the sense of enlightenment of what a wonderful world we could all live in, although sometimes we take it for granted a little too much.

Three months have flown by since I took my first step on Trail, climbing those daunting stairs at Amicalola Falls. 1,026 miles have been covered solely on foot (give or take a couple hundred feet that I may or may not have shaven off🥴). I would not take these moments and trade them away for anything, for they are too precious to me. I know the road ahead holds mysteries waiting to jump out at me. I know it holds frustrations in the form of difficult challenges as well as smiles and laughter via great memories and moments to be had. It will likely bring forth moments of tremendous emotional vulnerability, as I’m already a pretty emotional person in general. I look forward to the road ahead and just like that first day on March 6th, I will take it one step at a time, one bite at a time until I reach that final summit.

“When someone makes a decision, he is really diving into a strong current that will carry him to places he had never dreamed of when he first made the decision.” -Paulo Coelho: The Alchemist