Wednesday, November 13th

Wednesday, November 13th. Day 148

Today's miles = 16 Total CDT miles = 2,444.5

Today I stood at the US-Mexico border marking the end of the Continental Divide Trail and the completion of my Tripple Crown!!

I didn't get much sleep last night because the wind was beating against my tent the whole night. But I managed to get up and start hiking by 6:15am. I watched as the mile markers on the road went from 16 all the way down to zero. Each mile took longer and longer. I remember thinking that it would never end, that I would never make it there. Eventually the markers read '3' and I knew I was in the home stretch. I could see the border crosing about 2 miles from the border and I had to make my way through the crowds of people with their giant suitcases to get to the sign that marked the border. I donned my celebratory crown (thank you Monkey Mom) and didn't care in the slightest when all the tourists were looking at me confused and disapproving. I had done it. I walked from border to border...again!

During the Appalachian Trail in Massachusetts I determined to hike all three trails in three consecutive years, a goal I felt I could do but had no idea how. I was still so consumed with the AT and the miles and challenges that I was facing at that moment. I was tired and beat down from all the miles of trail I had hiked so far and there I was with 1,500 miles behind me determining to hike another 6,000. I knew that if I wanted to actually do it I couldn't think about it yet. I had to hike one day at a time, one mile at a time, and make sure to enjoy as many of those steps as possible or I would never have a chance to Tripple Crown. The task seemed overwhelming and exhausting...exactly up my alley. I had set out on the AT not knowing anything about trail or long distance backpacking. I saw many tough friends go home but then I saw people get sick, break bones, run out of money...and still they were out there. What was that force keeping us on trail? Why did we feel the need to be out there, to hike, and to beat our bodies to our breaking points? After three trails and 7,500 miles you would think I would have an answer to that. You would think I could sit here and tell you exactly why I did it. Why despite my personal broken bones, pinches nerves, asthma attacks, blisters, migranes, shin splints, sunburn, poison oak, staff infection, altitude sickness, lymes disease, and giardia, did I not go home? Why even in the moments of emotional and physical defeat did I and the strong willed people next to me stick it out? I thought maybe it was for this moment, the moment I Tripple Crown. I thought it was perhaps to prove something to myself, to finish what I started, or to simply see if I could. But at that moment standing at the Mexican border I realized it was none of those things. I didn't have an 'ah hah' moment or some great ephiony. Instead I realized that I already knew all along. It wasn't about that moment at all, it wasn't about finishing. It was about all those little moments that lead me up to that. It was about the people I met and the experiences I had with them. It was about what I learned along the way about myself, others, and our natural enviroment. It was about just being...and learning to be happy no matter the situation you're in. I summed it up best one day on the PCT when I was feeling particular greatful for these remarkable experiences I was able to have,

"Imagine this... You wake up in the morning, stuff a few hundred calories into your mouth, pack up your things and head to your local gym. You decide to start your daily workout with 4 to 5 hours on the stairmaster. You don't stop climbing up that machine until you absolutely can't take it anymore. This is when you get off the stairmaster, eat a few hundred more calories and take 45 minutes to breathe. Then you jump right on the treadmill. You force yourself to maintain a pace for 3 straight hours that forces you to constantly feel your heart beating in your neck and even your finger tips. Once your three hours on the treadmill are up you immediately head back to the stairmaster for another 4 hours. That's your daily workout. Oh, but I forgot to mention, you have to do all of this with 35 pounds on your back. If you're moving, the weight is on your back.

Thats basically what thru-hiking feels like every day...if not harder some days. Except we don't have a water fountain just yards away. We don't have a controlled air temperature building to do our workout in. We don't have a protein, fresh fruit smoothie bar at the entrance of the woods in the morning. Instead, we get to do this workout worrying about where our next sip of water is going to come from or if the water we have on our back is enough to make it up the mountain. We have rattlesnakes and bears to watch out for. We have to hike when it's 115 or 25 degree out. We hike in the rain, the blistering sun, the wind farm winds. We walk through sand, mud, grass, through rivers and lakes, and more sand. If we get hurt we still walk. We deal with our shoes blowing out and our tents not closing (thus sleeping with mosquitoes). We go to sleep shivering and wake up with ice on everything we own and all our drinking water is frozen solid. We put the same dirty socks on every morning. We do workout after workout without showering and at the end of it we don't get to go home and make a nutritious and fresh meal and curl up in our warm beds. We eat the same foods day after day and never enough of them (powerbars, Ramon, Pasta Sides, and a variety of Frito Lays products). Then we lie just an inch off the ground and wrap ourselves in a sleeping bag that smells just as bad as we do. We push ourselves to the limit; to the breaking point. Sometimes we break (stress fracture) and sometimes we don't.

And then it happens... You're walking along a ridge of a mountain and the wind blows just right. The sun starts creeping up over the the tops of the mountains and the sky turns the most amazing colors. The birds begin to chirp their morning tunes. You can hear a faint trickle of a waterfall just below. The wildlife of the mountains begin to stir and wake. The morning wind blows the scent of fresh mountain wildflowers just under your nose and you're just standing there 14,000 feet high in the sky able to see for hundreds and hundreds of miles.

It's then that you realize. You realize you're not an employee of some corporate business or a piss-on at some retail store. You're not a student pushing through college or a kid with credit card debt. You're not fat or ugly, cold or tired. You're not sunburned or hungry. Your feet don't hurt. You don't have cracked bones or altitude sickness. Instead, all you are is ALIVE. It's that moment you understand that you would do anything. You would do absolutely anything and push yourself as hard as necessary if it meant that once more, just once more you could feel that way again.

We're not out here to look hot in a bathing suit or to prove something to anyone. We're not here so that we may or may not fit into a certain mould of person. We are out here because every so often the wind blows just right...."

I must give a sincere thank you to those people that have helped me along my way. The people that first ever encouraged me to follow this crazy dream and believed in me even in my lowest moments. (My mother and brother). The person who went out of her way to take care of and house my cats for two of the trails so that I could take off care free (Linda). The person who spent hours each day spending time with my cats for the third trail (Dad). The friends who were always a phone call away and didn't doubt me for a second, in turn giving me confidence (Milagro, Logan, Machete, Keeper, Adam). All the people in my life that never tried to discourage me from my craziness (all of the above). All my family for taking such pride in my alternative choices. To all my friends both on trail and off that have made the past three years of my life more amazing then I could have imagined. To all my trail friends for opening their lives and their hikes to me. It wouldn't have been the trail without you. To every person I met along the way who gave me rides, food, water, a place to stay, company, and a new faith in humanity. Ok...enough sappy-ness. Thank you all! I love you!