Say goodbye – the walk

I am in Monson, Maine with Pony and Mountain Dew, my constant companions for more than a month and my final tramilia through the whites and Maine. We have planned to get to Katahdin together with Wawa and Roach in approximately one week as of today. In the city, we visit the people we have not seen in days or weeks, people who will not see again on this path. Perhaps we could see them in the future in which we have a meeting in the days of trails or remain in contact virtually, but in reality we all live throughout the country, and some live in other countries, and this could be.

I said goodbye to Frickles, which constantly impresses me with his tenacity, continuing walking for 2000 miles despite the constant struggles with the pain and ankle from the beginning. She has always greeted me as an old friend, and I will miss seeing her in the cities and on the way. She will accumulate 3 days before us, and then return home to Virginia. I met her in North Carolina, before the Smokey mountains, and she is my friend of the oldest path. It is really a pleasure that has seen her again at the end of this trip.

I said goodbye to Puck, whom I also met in the smoks. We have been like neighbors who look in the last 6 months. She is an incredible woman who is not ready for this adventure to finish. She loves this, and somehow everything maintained her reputation as the cleanest and best olfilist along the way. I cannot believe that I can no longer enjoy your warm presence. She will also accumulate a few days before us.

I said goodbye to Barefoot, a member of the warrior expedition that I have met again and again in some of the most memorable places along the way. I filmed him by turning in his cheerful dream on Max Patch, a deeply significant place for him on his trip. I saw him again at the upper Moosilauke, jumping on the rocks, his spirit took him faster than any of the other hikers as he ran through the whites again full of absolute joy and admiration for the mountains he climbed. I will not be able to see it in Katahdin, since he will be a Cifana with Puck a few days before us.

I fired from Wingit, whom I met at Gorgeous Stays in North Carolina. He walked the path last year and assumed the role of Trail Angel Extraordinire this year, after the bubble of the hikers in his van, giving attractions and magic of trails to the needy. He helped us many times, and he always encouraged us that the feelings of exhaustion, sadness, preparation for the end were normal. I have gotten used to hearing so that his truck decreases speed on a road with him and his dog taking his head out the window to ask if we need a trip to the city, I do not know how he will feel walking through the streets of my new city without that spontaneous neighboring interaction.

I said goodbye to others, but I couldn’t say goodbye to most. Many people with whom I have met and have even become good friends on the way, without an idea that our «see you» would really be «goodbye.» Some have not seen in hundreds of miles, but I still think about them.

I’m going to say goodbye to Mountain Dew and Pony. In that final peak, a last mountain to climb together, where I am sure I will cry, since everything really hits me that it ends. But our friendship has been more about the time of inactivity than miles. We have camped together, we sat around a fire and laugh together, we go to the lakes and we shudder together, we saw so many movies in the shelters together, learned and taught games, learned and taught insults in sign language so we can shout without words. I will miss these days of silly and familiar friendship, where we prefer the company of the three more than stay in the best known hostel with a dozen other hikers along the way.

I will say goodbye, but then we will all go on separate roads. We may never play cards again in a pub in a small town in Maine. We may never play chess again in a shelter in the forest. We may never discuss my plans for a thematic reality television program while walking again in infinites.

People talk about the depression after the paths, and it is definitely something real. When you go out of the way, whether you finish in Katahdin, give up due to an injury or boredom or simply get fed up with monotony and physical and mental demands, you are leaving not only a way of life, but also a community of people. The people who have helped you to get where you are going, people who feed you, people with whom you are familiar, people with whom you are close. People you have known as the person you are along the way. You are also leaving yourself, in a way.

The path is a place for self -discovery, safe. You can have a new name, try new things every day, strive, reduce speed, learn to trust yourself, learn to trust others, learn what not to trust others, learn to express yourself and make your own decisions. We may not know what we will do after the path, and maybe that scares us, since we will feel lost and not prepared for the onslaught of the demands we leave behind for the forest and walking. But perhaps we can learn to access that part of ourselves from the path, the part that could survive with junk food and walk, the part that could sleep through a storm and drink pond water, which could be a new friend in a day and get away from the next unpleasant people.

Maybe we can learn to survive in this new world we will find. And maybe they call us back to the mountains and forests that surround us, assuming new challenges in our free time or as soon as we have left enough to escape the world again for a few weeks or months. Maybe see everyone again, sooner or later.

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