Mile 700 Journal Entry

The road takes me to new places. As I walk, I analyze my own greed, my needs for validation, my limits, my morals. The fights are less physical and enter into an examination of my psyche. I no longer fall asleep thinking about the pain in my legs. Instead, I think about rationalizing every decision, every plan, every social interaction. My thought process after more than 3 days in a row without comforts becomes primal. Have breakfast, take the walk, have lunch, who’s waiting for us? Who is suffering in new places? Who is struggling with problems at home? Who’s going home? Is there water today? Will it rain? Did you wash your hands? Who needs a favor? Are you OK?

It’s a continuous cycle of questions that go through my head at all times. It sounds anxious, but the funny thing is that I feel calmer than ever. I am present. I look at the bugs and I thank the sun and I laugh with friends and I fall and I scratch and I bleed and I limp and I stretch and I laugh again and I laugh until the trekking poles hit the rocks and we repeat the joke at dinner, where we reference another one from two weeks ago, just a moment. us shared. It’s jarring and ridiculous and I’m in it for the long haul.

I can feel myself standing on Katahdin. A fragment of time that already happened somehow somewhere. The smell of Maine morning fog and mist-covered trees. I will miss the sound of Dutch conversation behind me as I walk, just as I miss Horsepower’s smile and advice. Each person, each state, each forest holds its own unique memories and feelings. How can I categorize these experiences in my head? How do I find something new every day? As my routine becomes identical in a familiar climate and familiar struggles, I find myself on autopilot while absorbing more information than I thought possible. I’m learning Dutch! I remember the Dutch one! My brain is full at the end of the day and I crawl toward sleep like a desperate child.

“Be careful,” WB had told me in Boots Off. «The trail will ruin your life. It will also improve it greatly, don’t get me wrong. But it will throw you somewhere you never planned on.» I’m on roulette now and they’ll spit on me. My job now seems to be to learn to let go. Let the plans take care of themselves. Balance preparation with spontaneity and relinquishment of control. When tasks become too overwhelming, sit in the sun and breathe deeply. In the stillness, remember why you are here and when you are ready, continue walking north.

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