Hike Ended, and On The Way Home

"The more insecurities, the more you pack," remarked daughter Jennifer. She packed her dad.

We were on our way on the yearly backpacking trip that has become a tradition. This one in Maine, where she finished last year but also where she had a heartbreak. She wanted to show me Maine's beauty and also to get back on the horse that threw her.


"It's a four-holer, and has toilet paper... it's Ritzy!" I said. The daughter laughed. I was referring to the privy at the White House Landing, a hiker's little-piece-of-heaven in Maine's Appalachian Trail's 100-Mile Wilderness. It was my fifth and last day of 43 miles, which included seven mountains and 11,000 ascent-feet. But this year the rains came only at night, so it was a much more enjoyable experience than last year's White Mountains.

The only thing that went wrong was that it's raining today, which we were going to use for a seaplane ride of Mt Katahdin (this old man can't climb Katahdin!). Well, OK, the flies were bad too, but expected.

We heard all kinds of trail drama from all kinds of people. My daughter the psychologist people-person thoroughly enjoys this. I marvel at her people skills, and am amazed at the huge variance of reasons for hiking the A.T., but that discussion would be long.

"I'm not going to marry anyone that can't hike a 100-mile wilderness," said the daughter, starting yet another bonding conversation. We talked about all the fake and lazy people in both our lives. "The divorce was bad, but I got to go backpacking," said the true enthusiast. She uses hiking as meditation and problem-solving time. It's a sweet solution that works well for her.

Everyone hikes his own hike.


- © 2010 by Willy