Is the Party Rock Here With Us in the House Tonight?

Kathleen's nasty side eye lingered on me. My rain gear cinched tight, I was a balloon of hiker stink. I'm pretty sure she couldn't smell me.

"Yeah I'm trying my best to corrupt her" Green Bean said as he shifted into second, winding lazily away from Raingley.

If you told me two years ago that I'd be snacking on kettle chips outside a grocery store in Maine, accepting an unsolicited ride from a stranger, I'd think something went seriously wrong. Or right. I've always had this is me. But I've never packed my resupply haul faster into my bag than when I'm offered a free ride back to trail. I ripped open boxes of poptarts and breakfast bars and shot them into my food sack. The right motivation can inspire you to do things fast and dirty.

(best tent view on trail)


I'd had a lousy day where things didn't come naturally like they used to. When I felt the low feeling of feeling like I should be feeling some other way. A friendly shop owner helped me fix my busted trekking poles that lost their carbide tips, a couple of former thru hikers bought me a beer, I had a chat with a former resident of Rochester whose seat was filled by someone reading a book I had read on trail and we gabbed off. Then I met a Buffalonian at a lean to and we exchanged numbers. All it took to turn things around was a flood of positive interactions. Fact is the most stubborn thing in the world.

Green Bean dropped me on the trail and I bid Kathleen a farewell, which she observed with skepticism from her car seat. I'd like to spend more time in many trail towns and Raingley is one of them. I hope Kathleen's dad is successful raising future hiker trash. I'm certain he will be.

(Maine has been the best state. Full stop)

_________________

The Maine Roadhouse hostel was ready for a party. Log cabin walls and comfy seating made the broad common room inviting, but the varnished ten foot bar notched into one corner and the funky blue lightbulbs declared its teeming potential. Potential that I didn't get to see realized. It made me sad. 

My mom gave me three pieces of advice before leaving for college. 

1) don't drink wine through a straw (haven't tried it, but I can see where it goes)

2) when you're drinking on a barstool, get up every once in a while to see how the alcohol is affecting you (practical)

Lastly,

3) always leave the party while you're having fun (also applies to scratching a cat's belly)


I thought, if I waited to start my hike and was in the bubble, the hike would be more of a party, so let's not do that. I chose to start early because I didn't want to be in the roving party. I was leaving the figurative party, dammit, not just walking across the street to another literal one. Plus waiting until mid March or later? Nah, let's get this show on the road. 

The lack of party at the hostel, when it was clearly aching for one, reminded me of the party I left. So I don't get to feel the pop of the Maine Roadhouse common area when Beer for My Horses comes on the stereo. The party doesn't die the moment you get into the Uber. Hell, a bunch of cool people probably rolled up.


I left the party while I was still having fun -ask anyone there, I was having fun -to start chapter three on my terms.

Chapter 1: Infancy - College
Chapter 2: Chicago - San Francisco (the party)
Chapter 3: Buffalo - ???

I left lifelong friends and a good job in a vibrant and unique city. Another five years could have slid by no problem, but then where would I be? Would I be able to do this hike in that future with this Buffalo awaiting my return? For sure not. 

In poker you don't want to get yourself into situations that reduce the number of options you have in the future, unless your hand is so good that you need to capitalize on a rare opportunity. My hand was great, but not good enough. I missed my family and friends. Not being there for big moments and not being up in their business for the small moments too. The food, the sense of belonging. The dangerously inviting current of hope that flows through the whole city during football season. 

We make choices today to make our future selves happy. Mike Tennenboym told me that one time. To some, that's just prudent. To me, that's learning to live with fomo. 

I am getting the experience I deserve. I wanted time and space and I sure got it. When you try to be in the moment and experience an absence of interruption, open space can create swirling eddies of uncertainty and regret. Making peace isn't a switch you can flip from "felt" to "processed." You can't dump the emotions out of a bottle, toss it over your shoulder, walk away, and be done with it. I sought this out. Leading a life in a new direction requires living with the old one too. Flail a little in the in between. Splashing comes before swimming.

_________________

Progress: 2083 miles. 114 left. My mind is not yet done with this trail. I want to soak it all up savor it. I know I'll be typing away on my laptop in 6 months and catch myself staring out the window, wishing I was drenched in sweat, chugging a liquid IV on my way to a tent site 10 miles away. Or I'll remember how Retriever and I sloshed through the core of a thunderstorm. I'll be remembering moments I've already forgotten for the rest of my life.

But my body is done with this trail. I've rolled my ankle the most in Maine and my left nipple started chaffing. Each protein bar is harder to chew than the last. The 100 mile wilderness is next, then summit day. 

Gear: A minor strap on my backpack broke, so we're just doing without. I sent home my fanny pack. My glasses are so scratched I stopped wearing them, and a week ago I learned that my hip belt pockets are large enough for snacks. The trick is to shove them into the pockets when you aren't wearing the pack. Better late than never. I'm gonna skate these last miles.

Reader request: Max from Philly asked for a current selfie. Great request! Here ya go:


Last chance to get requests in, I won't post again until I'm done. Text me or email [email protected].

There are a million interesting things to do online so I sincerely appreciate you spending some valuable screentime reading about my attempt to live a more analog life. I get a rush when someone in real life tells me they read my blog, and I always thank them. So, if you're reading this, thank you for reading.

Extra thanks to those who sent me feedback.