In the summer before I left for college,
I did a lot of preparation. I was about to move from suburban Chicago to the
foothills of Colorado, and come the end of summer I knew everything would get
crazy. So I was reading a summer book assigned by a professor (freshman fear
tactic, I’m sure), riding my bike (growing up as somewhat of a suburbian
bookworm, I had this fear of being the least fit person ever to move to
Colorado), packing (more on that later), and saying goodbyes. I hate goodbyes.
And since my family was moving to Wisconsin at the same time I was going to
Colorado, I couldn’t say for sure when I’d see my friends again.
I’ve moved many times since then and
gained and, in a sense, lost many friends. But I can say with certainty that
this move—or, to put it better, this life
shift—leading up to our hike has been the most exhausting of any of them. These
last few weeks, I’ve been falling asleep to visions of trail walking and waking
up to heart-palpitating zaps of thoughts on all the things I still needed to do
before leaving my job, moving out of our rental house, driving to Wisconsin,
and finally starting our hike. There were nights when my brain felt so leaden
with thought it seemed there must be something must be sitting on my head
(snickering too, I’m sure). Perhaps ironically, this is exactly the sort of
emotional exhaustion that I want so fervently to escape on the trail. After
putting everything I had into a day of teaching, I would come home and fall
into this leaden-brain stupor and wonder, vaguely, how I might possibly make
time go fast enough to bring me back to life yet slow enough to be able to do
all of the packing and things needed to make this trip possible.
And now, perhaps by magic, the time is
nearly here. Tomorrow we fly to Maine, and the next day will be our hike up
Katahdin to begin our Appalachian adventure.
A lot of people have been asking me if
I’m excited, but the answer in my head is a lot more complicated than what
they’re looking for. I’ve been excited for this ever since we started planning
last spring, pumping all spare energy into plans and preparations. In a sense, this
adventure has already been underway throughout all of that. After so much
thinking and dreaming and a half million trips to REI, the start of our hike is
so close and the only word I can conjure is… surreal. Even more so, I would
say, since while I’m typing this I’m sitting on a cozy couch at my parents’
house, listening to my younger brother play the guitar. Outside, I can hear
Andy, my older brother, and his girlfriend talking and laughing. It’s a rare
and comforting thing to have the whole family together, and the idea that in a
couple of days Andy and I will be out in the middle of nowhere Maine is an odd
contrast to wrap my mind around.
Also…
We’re two very lucky individuals with so
many incredible people in our lives, and I want to say thank you to everyone
who gathered to wish us well. We were so grateful for the goodbye parties
thrown for us, giving us a chance to see our friends and family before heading
out—Zach, Nikki, Sue & Ray, MPHS staff, Grandma & Grandpa K, thanks for
being wonderful hosts J! And
gigantic thank yous Grandma & Grandpa K for driving us to a distant airport
and to Mom and Sue for being up for sending us crazy huge mail drops along our
hike!
No comments:
Post a Comment