THE FIRST HALF

And just like that we have 1166.7 miles under our belt.

The past eight weeks have been a whirlwind as we have strained to put down 10, 15, 20 miles a day in order to reach Mount Katahdin, the northern terminus of the Appalachian Trail. In this time we have sloshed through the deep muds of Vermont, scrambled over the windy peaks of New Hampshire, and navigated the rooty terrain of Maine to arrive to the place in the above picture - rarely finding time to rest before setting off into the woods again. Unfortunately we are unable to update our blog from a mobile device (assuming service is available in the first place)- and this means we have slacked. I hope noone has worried for us due to this break in transmission, for though we have been disappointed that we have not been able to share our journey on a more consistent basis, we are in fantastic health and our cups are overflowing with excitement, adventure, and mesmerizing beauty. We aim to improve our delay between posts on this second half and we appreciate your patience, understanding, and unbelievable support for our adventure.

Today I write to you from Memphis, Tennessee, where Add Coffee calls home. We are taking a two-week long break to visit our families and rest our legs before gearing up to continue the hike. On Sunday, October 9th, we will set foot on the doorsteps of the Appalachian Trail Conservancy - the place where we began the journey - and head south to Springer Mountain, Georgia - 1022.5 miles away. But before contemplating the next leg, I must reminisce with you on our experiences in the last 500 miles.

On the 11th of August we regrettably walked, or rather limped, out of scenic Vermont and stepped into New Hampshire. It was ninety degrees and Caitlin was nursing a foot with plantar fasciitis. I wore a brace on my left ankle - battling what I prayed to be tendonitis and not a stress fracture. In poor shape and nervous about the intimidating trail ahead, we caught a bus from Hanover to Boston, Mass to visit friends for a few days and rest our injuries. We received shelter and overwhelming generosity from familiar faces and this proved to be great for our bodies and our hearts. After two days in Boston we were back with restored confidence, setting out to traverse the White Mountain Range. Unbeknownst to us, we were walking into what would be our favorite part of the trail so far.

The Whites. Rugged and steep trails wind through these mountains, often up and over rock faces that demand technical maneuvering, but for epic rewards. Through cloud cover we climbed above tree line, following ridge lines that offered 360 degree views for hundreds of miles - sometimes to the Atlantic - when the fog lifted to allow it. We camped through cold storms just below the alpine zone, steadied ourselves on a precipitous peak in 65 mile per hour gusts, ate hearty soup with friends on a foggy night in a primitive hut, watched the slow-motion of sunset on South Twin peak, gazed on a clear night sky at elevation, summited the second highest peak on the Appalachian Trail - Mount Washington (6288') - in this range. Much of the AT is routed above tree line here, marked by rock cairns and resembling the surface of another planet, leaving one completely exposed to its unpredictable weather. The brisk chill of fall began to greet us here in the higher elevations.

Words cannot express how grateful we feel to have had the opportunity to experience New Hampshire's White Mountains.

Everyday was elation for being surrounded by this landscape. Treacherously beautiful, dangerously enticing - we will return to explore these mountains again.

On September 1st Add Coffee and I crossed into Maine and were met with the toughest hiking to date. Hiking is a loose term for what is required in the southern part of the state - named the Mahoosuc Range - scaling and repelling may be more appropriate. The maintainers of this section of the AT take pride in its technical difficulty, made worse by several days of rain in our case. It felt like we hit a wall here; our milage plummeted, and we weren't the only ones. Hikers all around us struggled to put in ten miles, exhausted at the end of the day from the awkward sliding over the craggy trail. No longer could we look around us while we walk, or else risk tumbling down a twenty foot drop.

Six and half miles into Maine lies the famed Mahoosuc Notch, dubbed the "most difficult or fun mile of the AT" by our guidebook. We found ourselves crawling on hands and knees through jagged tunnels and over towers of fallen rock in this jumbled pit of boulders, pushing three hours to navigate this single mile. Many hikers (myself included) enjoyed the change of pace in this natural playground, while many others (including Add Coffee) began to feel trapped and stressed over the slow-going. We continued walking north all the same.

Four miles after the Mahoosuc Notch we summited Mount Speck and the hardship paid off as the terrain began to become more manageable. All of the sudden we weren't climbing anymore; we were walking on even ground. It felt like we were flying! And the beauty didn't stop; rather, it improved. We walked the rocky tops of mountains with names like Mount Success and the Bigelows and were awed by arresting splendor. Often surrounded by brilliantly blue lakes, we cowboy camped in the company of great friends in this section on the race to Katahdin.

After what seemed like years we arrived to the home stretch - the 100 Mile Wilderness. This forested section is the remotest part of the Appalachian Trail. Intimidating, mysterious, formidable, it had loomed in our thoughts and conversations in the weeks prior. It was here - the final test before Katahdin. We celebrated with our fellow hikers in Monson, the final town stop before the end, and walked into the Wilderness on September 18th. And it was tough and gorgeous - often the humorous duality discovered on trail. We used our hands to climb tangled inclines, carefully forded cold rushing streams, and marveled at the changing colors of the leaves as Fall crawled over the north. After a time, the trail began to mellow and become flatter and easier, which was a mercy as Add Coffee and other members of our party began to struggle with sickness and lose sleep to painful coughing in thirty degree weather. In our final evening in the Wilderness we got a view of the end - Mount Katahdin, standing alone. solemn. glorious.

On September 25th we walked out of the Wilderness to meet Add Coffee's father, Dave, who flew up to join us for the final climb. We drove into Millinocket to rest before waking at 4:45 AM, and hit the trailhead with friends in a daze as we tried to fathom that this would be the last hike of the northern half of our trek and, for many, the last five miles of their 2189 mile journey. The finale proved to be the hardest day yet , with the most technically demanding terrain of the entire trail, and we arrived to the summit of Katahdin breathless and aching and amazed. Ice bordered the northern face of the mountain, but we were granted clear skies on top. We did it - Add Coffee's father and all - grinning with tears and embracing one another in the end. We did it.

And now, after a wonderful break where we have received more generosity than we deserve, we start back where we left off in Harper's Ferry. Back to the trail, back into the wilderness. Only 1022.5 miles to go.

"Wilderness. The word itself is music. Wilderness, wilderness. We scarcely know what we mean by the term, though the sound of it draws all whose nerves and emotions have not been irreparably stunned, deadened, numbed by the caterwauling of commerce, the sweating scramble for profit and domination." - Edward Abbey