Fourth Quarter Thirds

It’s strange to be sitting here writing from Grand Rapids. The bugs are gone, the air is conditioned, the coffee is hot, and I’m wearing cotton clothes. I’ve also been diligently identifying the wildflowers that I’ve photographed, and am now at 236 and counting. Currently I'm trying to distinguish between different types of clovers, asters, and goldenrods. Despite the distractions of home, it’s high time I publish a post, so here it is.

No, I haven’t given up on walking, even though the hiker icon that is stalled on my map might communicate otherwise. I’m simply ahead of schedule, and can afford some time at home to relax, identify flowers, allow my body heal, eat well, and spend time with Tera before her work schedule gets crazy. You might think that being off the trail for a few days would leave me with nothing to write about, but I promise you there’s still plenty to say.

When you take on a project as big as the Appalachian Trail, it helps to break down the big picture into more manageable chunks. One of the first ways that I did this was to split up the trail into rough quarters: Georgia, North Carolina, Tennessee; Virginia and West Virginia; Maryland, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, New York, Connecticut, Massachusetts; Vermont, New Hampshire, Maine.

The first quarter was full of new things and excitement. The whole trail was before me, and Georgia offered the promise of things to come. North Carolina held the distinction of the first new state, and together with Tennessee  welcomed hikers to the Great Smokey Mountain National Park. The springs were flowing, the air was cool, and everyone was eager to learn about the trail and what it’s all about.

Quarter two? Virginia and West Virginia. While most experience the Virginia blues because of the length of the state, I didn't. Damascus brought back memories of the Creeper trail, Pearisburg meant visiting grandparents and staying in their cabin, and Tera was with me through the Shenandoahs. In fact, the second quarter passed by rather quickly. I had started to find my stride, and so the hiking itself became easier and more efficient. Signing the register at the Appalachian Trail Conservancy in Harpers Ferry was a fitting end to the first half of the journey, and the chance to reflect on the progress I had made was encouraging.

Crossing the Potomac meant the beginning of the third quarter, marked by shorter-mileage states and plenty of large rivers. The beginning moved along smoothly. Maryland was short and flat, a welcome change from miles past. Pennsylvania meant a lot of slacking as I hiked near where my parents live, making the rocks that appeared after I crossed the Susquehanna a bit more bearable.

A swampy section of New Jersey trail

The other side of the Delaware meant more mosquitoes, but New Jersey, like Maryland, was just a small portion of the trail's length.

Things were different with New York. All of a sudden the game changed. Things slowed down.

A view from the east bank of the Hudson

Mental fatigue set in and matched my familiar weariness, and my thinking changed. I found myself faced with the reality that, with less than 800 miles to Katahdin, I had nothing to prove to myself. I had come 1400 miles. What's 800 more? Though it seems strange to measure proximity to a goal in the hundreds of miles, that's exactly what happened. That line of thinking also meant that I thought more than once about retreating to the comforts of home, the comforts that I happen to be enjoying at the moment. Yet I knew that if I stopped I would face regret, shatter a dream, and disappoint many. So I walked on. Reaching the east bank of the Hudson gave me renewed focus. The chance to walk along the Housatonic River in Connecticut was a nice change of pace and provided easy terrain. And Massachusetts, with its bookend peaks of Everett and Greylock, went quickly because of the near-constant threat of mosquitoes.

Now it’s the fourth, and each of its three states holds a distinctive stretch of trail.

Vermont has the Green mountains, which host some of the lushest forest vegetation that I’ve seen on the trail. Vermont also has plenty of mud and introduced deer flies to the trail. I’m happy to say that third is done, but two fourth quarter thirds remain.

New Hampshire holds the Whites which come with steep elevation changes, epic views, and the mountain that is known for the worst weather in the country: Mt. Washington. These mountains have been talked up more than any other stretch of the trail, and so I’m eager to see if their bite equals their bark. Finally there is Maine which boasts plenty of bogs and the hundred-mile wilderness, the secluded runway to its most coveted prize: Katahdin.

With only two thirds of the fourth to go, my excitement is mounting. I can now smile and say I only have two more states (even if Maine is the second-longest on the trail) and less than four hundred miles to walk. The end is clearly in sight.