Near the end – The walk

I remember the day he hit me: I was approaching the end of the path. The mental change was sudden. I immediately started thinking about this path as something that will end soon. It is no longer something that I am in the middle.

The arch of this walk feels different from the past walks. Every day is like a mini through himself, so much adventure packed at all times, so many lessons. I definitely learned that all I have to do is move on. Time will spend and will eventually reach my destination.

I have come to appreciate sleeping in my cozy store at the end of each day. And crawling my sleeping bag. Eating my hot food, always delicious after walking hard all day, and because everything knows better in the forest.

When I am close to the end of another walk, I am growing especially nostalgic for this adventure, knowing that it will end. It feels strange and bittersweet. I have enjoyed this more than any other, although it has been the most physically challenging.

A bittersweet feeling

I don’t want it to end; I am also ready to finish. Ready to stop being sleepy all the time. To eat normal food and no junk and cook like a normal person. I am so ready to eat fruits and vegetables. And sleep in my own bed. Ready for access to drinking water at any time of the day. Ready to let the skin of my footy foot, let my legs rest, give a break to my shoulders without a backpack that weighs them, pressing the knotted hematid muscles all day. Ready to see my friends and family, go to my favorite restaurants and see my cats.

But at the same time, I don’t want to sleep outside. I don’t want to be inside most of the day, or I have to listen to cars and construction. I don’t want to stop being so intimately aware of the weather, or stop pushing and challenging me all the time. I don’t want to lose that glorious sensation of the first shower after five days without one. Or be so intertwined with the nature that I can smell the laundry detergent of an expert from a day from a mile away. (I am sure that they can also smell my stench at a mile away).

I do not want to lose the feeling of freedom that I have here, or of the person I am when I am on my way.

When I realize that I only have two weeks of this walk changed how I thought about everything. I appreciate every view, every tree, wild flowers, fresh air breath. All good nights.

Loving wild flowers

Before starting my walk, I was having a bad moment mentally. Winter brought depression, and spring was an non -scales of trying to navigate my mental health and return to control again. I asked if it was now the right time to make this walk. Some people warned me, maybe I am not in the best emotional place to be alone in the forest, far from home, pushing me physically and mentally, without cell service most of the time. Then, a close friend reminded me that through those who like favorite things. I could give me the feeling of autonomy I needed. I should follow my heart and show me what I can do.

Duel

As this path comes to an end, I cannot prevent my thoughts from going back last year when I was doing the continental path divides to complete my triple crown. While I was along the way, my grandmother died. He was as close to her as a grandson. I was in Colorado when I received the news that he only had one or two left. I couldn’t stop thinking: «If I could only fly home right now and give it a last hug, everything would be fine.» Thought tortured me. I imagined his soft white hair, his bright smile and a laugh that kept at his last moment. I imagine in his living room bed in my aunt’s house, extending his fragile arms to squeeze me with the little strength he had left. I would solve along the way, knowing that I had already seen her for the last time.

The day I received the call that had happened was an emotional whirlwind. I was still in Colorado, right north of Grand Lake. My dad was through the Colorado path at the same time. His sister, my aunt, was back at home with Gammy. That morning, my aunt had called me the road and told me that the nurse said it was probably her last day. While walking a inclination through the trees, the dark clouds threatened. I called my dad to register. As soon as he picked up, he said: «She left, Livvy.» Tears began to pour my eyes. My father, who had spent much of the previous two years helping to take care of his mother, was also an emotional accident. He explained that he could feel that he had happened before receiving the news. He had been walking on his trail, listening to a piece of moving classical music, with his mother’s memories through his head, and could not stop crying. Suddenly, she was beaten with the most powerful feeling that she had died. A moment later, his sister called to inform that it had happened.

After this phone call, all I could do was continue walking, crying, and thinking about Gammy. He began to pour, then leave, then ray and thunder. He felt chaotic trampling the humid path through the weather, sobbing with a heavy heart. I kept stumbling with the roots, without the strength or will to collect my feet enough.

Fortunately, I could fly home to attend your commemorative service and be with my great family of people who loved my grandmother so much. Going through the process of losing and grieving for her while doing through the CDT was one of the most difficult things I have done.

I took many of those emotions and memories of my sweet and small grandmother to this through the walk. But I think walking through the CDT, and going through the emotional roller coaster on that path made me feel prepared for anything. I felt that if I could overcome that wild path, remote, challenging and full of pain, then I could walk again.

My gammy and I when I was a baby

Channeling my CDT courage

Before starting this through Thru-Hike, a thought kept rolling in my head. «This walk will bring me back to myself.» At this point, when I am close to the end, I think I can say, he has done it.

This walk has been full of contradictions. I’ve been alone, but I love walking for myself. I have been exhausted, but full of life. I have been so uncomfortable and yet so satisfied. My body hurts but it is also in a very good shape. My mind feels clear, but full of thoughts. There are times when I felt scared, but at the same time, completely at home.

The final impulse of the challenges

Some interesting changes and challenges have emerged recently. Granola bars now know too much for me, I can barely drown them. I have to dodge the ortigas, the poison ivy and the briars on the weed -covered path like a character in a video game … but not in a fun way. I discovered that all the little craters and the painful red spots throughout the bottom of my feet are actually the foot of severe athlete. (This is something that I have treated in all my walks and I thought it was normal or part of it). I think that after eating 20 full pizzas on this path, I can finally say that I am tired of the pizza (for now). Autumn foliage is in its bright peak, and this is my favorite time of the year, but the weather has been beauty, wet, warm and rainy.

Autumn colors

Getting to the end of this path is the most emotional I have felt at the end of a walk. I think it’s because it can be the most authentic thing I’ve done in my life. I have survived loneliness, discomfort and yearning. I have come to know myself much deeper. I have pushed difficult times using anything but my own energy will. Well, that and some key phone calls with support people. More coffee. And sweet.

It seems that every time I make walking, I have to learn how much a battle full of emotions can be. Each walk takes me back or closer to myself. I am already thinking about the incredible adventure that I want to do next. Through the CDT, this walk, and whatever my next one, I have always been and I will be thinking of my gammy.

An exciting milestone!