The forecast for the Bigelows called for sunshine and warm weather. I left Stratton with a tiny kite, and a pair of sunglasses.
Nice try, Acorn.
It wasn’t sunny.
Instead, the Bigelows looked like this:
And why, after 2000 miles, do I still trust the weather forecast?
I admit, sometimes, I feel powerful. And sometimes, I feel so fragile. Sometimes, I’m just a girl on a mountain trying to make it to the other side.
News on the trail travels surprisingly quickly. A hiker left camp at 4am and texted back a photo of the wintery scene. We passed the phone around at the shelter.
Then, it started to sleet.
We stayed in our sleeping bags until noon.
For the first time of my hike, I looked up at a mountain, saw clouds, and considered “skipping ahead.” But ultimately, I want to finish my hike at Katahdin. More that anything, I want to look back at a line of continuous footsteps that lead all the way to Georgia.
I finally got out of my sleeping bag at noon. The sleet had stopped, and it was either spend all day in a freezing shelter or cross the mountains now and camp at a lower elevation that night.
Another hiker said: “Well, this is a lose-lose situation.”
I couldn’t agree more.
Luckily, these were my last 4000 foot mountains until the end. I am now in much lower elevation and enjoying the “flat” part of Maine.
I am about to enter the 100-mile wilderness. The next time I update, I’ll be an Appalachian Trail Thru-Hiker (fingers crossed!). And I’ll probably be writing my next blog entry from a bubble bath.
In a week, I will be at Katahdin.
And when I get there, I’m waiting for the sun.
I have a kite to fly.
I no longer count the states or miles left. Now, I’m just counting down the days.