Dispatch from Springer Mountain, Georgia -- November 13, 2004

My vicarious hikers,

This will likely be nothing more than a quick bulletin to announce to those of you who have been following that my hike has come to an end.

I finished the Appalachian Trail two days ago at 4:17 on November 10th, summiting Georgia's Springer Mtn with 8 other southbound thru-hikers.

Though all in all a very bittersweet moment at the end, I have to say that my last night on the Trail was my best and the final day's hike felt like a victory lap before I even finished. I ended on a 21 mile day, having spent the previous night under the stars with some other hikers to whom I had just caught up that evening. Some I hadn't seen for a long time; one I met for the first time.

From the Georgia border southbound hikers have a meager 74 miles left, a dauntingly small number of miles remaining. But hiking through that final state was entirely surreal as the numbers dwindled. I altered many of my usual hiking procedures, became more cavalier, more spontaneous about how I should take on the last miles. I had thought about staying at a hostel 30 miles from Springer and slapping a mammoth last day, but upon hearing of the great gathering of southbounders 9 miles south, I hiked into the night for the second night in a row, plowing the dark with my headlamp as the numbers fell and fell and fell.

Waking up the next day with 21 left stirred some emotions as we hiked along together, "Parade Style," the miles sliding by too effortlessly. At 8 miles left, I filled up on water for the last time, and, finding myself at the front of the parade, soon adjusted to my own pace, slicing off the last 8 miles in 2 hours 15 minutes. Though I felt slightly guilty parting from this great pack, I also felt a subtle but convincing need to end on a speed I had come to call "Hellhound Mode." Seriously, when am I going to be able to hike that fast endorphin fueled pace again, feeling hills buckle under my feet? Not soon enough I tell you! and here is the paradox of finishing a thru-hike. It's a moment of triumph, sure. Great triumph and pride and happiness, but in finishing the hiker robs himself of this lifestyle he has led for 5 months, a lifestyle he hopefully has enjoyed as I did and most of those with whom I surrounded myself did. I know that in a month I am going to be pulling my hair out in clumps in tortured disbelief of the reality that only a month ago I was walking miles and miles of forest trail everyday and now I'm....

There will likely be an addendum to this when I get back home early this week.

Thanks for reading for those of you who did.


Me, Bjorn/Windsock