Well, this has been a long time coming. I finished the Sheltowee Trace over two weeks ago, and I still have yet to produce a Trip Report. It’s less a problem of writer’s block, and more just a general feeling of apathetic malaise. I started writing this morning figuring that I could wing it with free association.
I suppose the crux of the matter is now that I am finished with Kentucky’s long trail. What do I do now? It’s the same sort of anti-climactic feeling that I got when I graduated from college. Many grueling years were spent in classrooms and libraries wondering if, and when I would ever finish my degree, only to be wholly miserable upon its completion.
I’m neither a completionist nor a purist; at my core I am an idealist and eternal optimist. Deep down in my heart of hearts there is an expectation that with accomplishment comes some sort of finalized gratification. The truth is, I always feel slightly lost and without purpose at the end of these endeavors. I’ve heard similar sentiments from AT and PCT alumni.
But like the trail, you have to keep putting one foot in front of the other. It’s all that can be done. You continue to move forward, or you choose to die. It’s really that simple.
Another chapter complete.
So, what is my next big venture? Only time will tell. Within me there is an insatiable drive to always stay in motion. It has something to do with the explorer gene that resides in each of us. For some it lays dormant, for the rest of us it is a powerful force to be reckoned with (especially if you believe in the predispositions of Sagittarians). Fairly soon I expect to acquire a new obsession and all will be well again.
I would like to be able to say that the weather on our November hike was amazing (because ostensibly it was). Despite the crisp, cool fall temperatures, the clear deep blue skies, and lack of rain, the drought was a major buzzkill for camping. With the unfortunate fire-ban in effect throughout the Daniel Boone National Forest, we had no recourse except to camp without a source of heat.
Ironically, after eating our chili and desserts (which was very much appreciated, thank you STA) we all formed a circle in the dark night as if we were sitting around an imaginary campfire. Each of us dealt with the cold in our own way. Some went to bed early. Others of us stubbornly fought the impulse to hide in our shelters. A few of us dreamed of beer. But over time, the freezing temps proved to be too much, and each of us eventually shuffled off for an early retreat. I estimate that I spent nearly 11 miserable hours in my sleeping bag on Saturday night.
And I’ve had a persistent runny nose ever since.
The walk was enjoyable. Even though we hiked 26 miles for the weekend, I wasn’t daunted by the mileage. After a few 34-mile trips, it sounded like a cakewalk in the park (and it was). I completed early Sunday afternoon at the North Terminus with nary a blister or significant pain. The ridge-walk Sunday was incredibly beautiful. Deep gorges and distant mountain tops filled the horizon.
As I walked, I watched the position of the sun to my back, waiting for it to indicate the start of my final descent. Over many ridges, we crossed. There were many false descents that would eventually climb back up to the mountain tops. Some of us wondered if the trail was ever going to end. Finally, the trail made a precipitous drop. As I walked, I prayed that I wouldn’t have to climb back up again.
I started to see all of the deadfall that had been cut after the 2003 ice-storm, and I could hear cars winding through the valley’s bottom. I actually let a little tear slip as the realization struck me that I was about to complete the Sheltowee Trace. It was a trip 25 years in the making that was finally coming to an end.
Thank you, Steve Barbour and the STA, for making this all possible. Thank you for your work and keeping the trail a viable option as Kentucky’s ONLY long trail!