making headlines

Last week I wrote a letter to the Daily Progress, our local paper, about the need for health care reform. Low and behold, they printed it!

Here's what appeared in the paper yesterday:

Reform insurance; add new option

In 2000, at the age of 21, I had a rare form of ovarian cancer. I was incredibly fortunate to overcome the disease in good health and without debt. At the time I had health insurance through my parents’ employer, and the bills were minimal. Without that coverage, I would now be in debt $50,000, or, worse, I would have been denied care, and I would not have survived.

Aside from the cancer, I have no health problems. But now, nine years later, fully recovered and with less than a 1 percent chance of the cancer returning, I am virtually uninsurable. I am lucky to have insurance through my husband’s employer, but so many other Americans do not have this option. Healthy people like me are denied coverage and the medical care they need because they are a financial liability to the insurance companies.

Our system is not set up to make health care affordable and accessible. It is not set up to promote prevention or early intervention. It is not set up to offer the greatest care to the greatest number of people. It is, instead, set up to profit insurance companies.

President Obama’s plan for health care reform will make it illegal for insurance companies to deny coverage based on pre-existing conditions, to drop coverage for members when they become sick, or to cap the amount of coverage they can receive. For myself and my fellow Americans, I desperately want these changes.

Additionally, I want a public option. I want to walk into a doctor’s office and receive care without worrying about the out of pocket expenses. I want, and I trust, the government to manage my health care. They do a great job with our public schools, our military, our policemen and firefighters, our mail. Their intervention will enable every American to receive the medical attention they need and deserve.

America has the best medical schools in the world, the best doctors and nurses, and the most cutting-edge technology in medicine. Let’s give our people access to these wonderful resources. They are dying without it.

Anna Sullivan
Charlottesville, VA

Interestingly, here's the headline that made today's front page: ‘Hands Off My Healthcare’ tour makes local stop

This article honored the 50 some people that attended a rally held in Charlottesville yesterday to oppose Obama's health care reform plan:

"Many in attendance Wednesday held signs and cheered as speakers talked about their concerns over health care reform. Ginger Kohr, who brought her daughter to the rally, said she was concerned what the plan will do for her daughter’s future. '[With the national debt] she is not going to have the same standard of living that we have now and that bothers me,' Kohr said."

Well, Ginger, I sure hope your little girl doesn't get sick between now and her debt-free adulthood.

In England, France, Canada, and just about every other educated nation in the world, you can go to the doctor's office, receive timely and thorough care, and walk out without paying a dime. Yes, their taxes are higher, but they are healthier, they live longer, and they don't go bankrupt for having cancer, giving birth, or getting in a car wreck.

Maybe we should talk about spending what we pay in taxes now on health care instead of wars, but that's another letter.

It was the wettest of times it was the best of times.

We've finished, Kaput, done, end-o-rama or however else you'd put it. It was an utterly exhausting and exhilarating challenge, and I for one am truly glad that I'm no longer walking twenty miles a day with thirty pounds upon my shoulders; I think I can speak for Anna on that account as well. We completed our climb up Mount Katahdin, the northern terminus of the AT, on the 10th of August and are currently settling back into our home and life back in Charlottesville, Virginia.

It was a wet and wild ride during those 5 months in the woods and we would like to extend our gratitude to all of our family and friends who helped us along the way. Mamacita aka Alison Montgomery, your skill in dehydrating tasty foods and then sending them to odd locations was the envy of our trail companions. Because of you we truly ate better than any other hikers. Jessie and Sunny, Graeme and Nicole, Jeremy, Ryan, Evan and Kates, Anna O., Alison (mamacita), Leah (big sis), J. Ben Ranz (rhymes with Hands) Kirby (papa scoutmaster) and all our other friends and family who hiked with us on the trail, your smiles, conversations and laughter kept our souls happy (even though it rained all the time). Thank you.

Enjoy the Pics and Thanks again to all that made this journey possible.

A new sign this year.

A cow moose about forty feet off the trail.

Pop, Anna and I right before the hike up Katahdin.


A nice little lake in the Hundred Mile Wilderness and that is real sunshine on our faces.

Love T&A.

August 10: Mt. Katahdin, ME

2178.3 miles.

WE MADE IT!!!!!!!

August 9: Rainbow Lake, ME

2152.0 miles.

Holy smokes. So close to the end.

I oscillate hourly between feeling thrilled -we're about to accomplish the greatest goal we've ever set for ourselves, and heartbroken -this great journey is coming to an end.

We're camped on the shore of Rainbow Lake, one of the hundreds of pristine, still lakes in the wilderness of Maine. Last night we feel asleep to the haunting call of the loons, we woke up this morning to the sound of absolute quiet.

We pushed ahead the last few days, setting ourselves up to do an unprecedented easy two ten mile days before summiting Katahdin. Alas, in typical T&A fashion, we're now thinking, 'oh, well why not just do one more 20 mile day and summit tomorrow?' That's been our m.o. the whole trip -push ourselves to the limit so we can take a break later, then skip that break later and keep pushing.

There's no right or wrong way to do this trail, and our way got us this far. But, if I were going to do it again, I think I'd take six months instead of five to complete it -more days off, fewer miles each day, more afternoons hanging out by a lake or on a summit or in our tent listening to the rain, more moments to pause and enjoy the beauty along the way.

Though we've had no shortage of beautiful moments. Yesterday a few hours before sunset, we were following a stream uphill and came upon a wide, shallow lake where a moose was feeding. She was in the middle of the bog, head under water for 15 seconds at a time eating huge gobs of whatever grows at the bottom of bogs. She saw us sitting there watching her and kept right on eating undisturbed. What a beautiful sight. A few weeks ago Tom and I came to the top of a hill and into a clearing, and a little fuzzy dog trotted up to our feet. When it heard Tom's voice, it bolted into the grass and disappeared. It was a coyote pup, probably just a few weeks old. Three days ago I watched a bear walking through the woods. It didn't see me and was headed right in my direction. I let it get pretty close -about 30 feet or so from me, then let it know I was there, at which point it wheeled around on its hind legs and barreled back into the woods. I almost wish I had just let it walk by me -but then some people do get eaten by bears here and there, even the shy black ones.

I'm not trying to say that I want to move in with a den of wild animals, live naked and never return to civilization, just that it's beautiful out here. We're surrounded by quiet, simple, breathtaking beauty. And I'll miss it.

August 5: Gulf Hagas Mtn., ME

2100.6 miles.

I am exhausted. I don't think I've ever been so worn out in my life.

We've entered the 100 miles wilderness, less than 80 miles to go to Katahdin, and we're giving it our all. The miracle of it is, tomorrow I'll wake up and my legs will move. I know that even as beat as I am right now, I'll sleep, and in the morning I'll stand up and walk, and enjoy -yes, still, enjoy- hiking through these mountains another day.

August 2: Bald Mtn. Brook, ME

2041.6 miles.

Whew! A 19 miles day through the mud of Maine is no easy thing. And we're dragging poor Ben Ranz along through it all. He's come to join us for a few days on the trail going from Stratton to Monson, and he's hanging in there like a champ -actually, I think he's doing a lot better than we are.

With just 130 miles to go we can practically smell the finish line, and we've been pushing ourselves to the max to get there on August 11th -five months from the day we started. Looks like we'll make it, but there will be no breaks for us until we reach Katahdin.

Only nine days left of this great journey. I'm starting to get nostalgic before it's even over. I know how much I'll miss this life, its simplicity and ease, the beauty of the wilderness, and the one enormous challenge before us each day -to keep on walking.

August 1: Pierce Pond, ME

2023.1

I met Tom Sullivan eight years ago today and loved him instantly.

He's everything I could ask for in a partner -caring, adventuresome, generous, capable, hardworking, good looking, and fun. I feel at ease when he's in sight. I miss him when he's not. Just want to tell the world how grateful I am to have him in my life.

July 25: Baldpate Mtn, MAINE!!!!

1915.5 miles.

Well, the first 20 miles of Maine have proven to be just as torturous, maybe even harder than the White Mountains of New Hampshire. Talking to mom the other day I mentioned how much more difficult the trail is up here -really nothing like the rest of the AT. She asked what I meant -how is it hard?

Until we got to this part I couldn't envision why it would be so tough either. Today I thought of a way to visualize it -even better actually, a way to let our friends experience the trail for themselves. So, here it is: a re-creation of the AT in southern Maine during the wettest summer on record. You'll need a staircase, but most of you can do this at home.

First, fill a wheelbarrow with dirt. Get out the garden hose and make that dirt into mud. Pour the mud down the stair case, and fill up a few tubs with mud, too. Place those on the stairs in such a way that you couldn't possibly avoid stepping in them. Next, find some big, cumbersome objects -a dish washer or a copy machine maybe- and place those on the stairs (they may tip over, that's fine). Then grab some canned goods, broom handles, rolling pins, cookie sheets, whatever is on hand in the kitchen. Toss those down the steps. Now bring the hose inside, lay the nozzle at the top of the stairs, and turn it on.

Okay, you've got your own personal Appalachian Trail, and you're ready for hiking. Starting at the bottom, go up the stairs, up and over the cumbersome things, through the mud and running water, around the obstacles. Mind you don't slip or catch your foot on something. When you reach the top, turn around and go back down. Repeat for ten hours.


That's pretty much what we did today.

July 24: Cascade Mtn., NH

1887.3 miles.

Took a serious writing haitus there -almost made it through New Hampshire without stopping to reflect. Due in part to losing our book a week ago (got it back yesterday through a small series of miracles and kind people), but mostly it was those big and bad White Mountains that had us spellbound and -day after day- plain freakin exhausted.

What a phenomenal place the Whites are. We dropped our pace to 15 or 10 or sometimes 8 miles a day so we could take it all in, take the side trails to the lonely summits, take our time ascending and descending the long, sheer slabs of stone that stood between us and a reasonably secure place to stop and catch our breath. Everyone said this place would be a hard hike -I had no idea they were serious, that "hard hike" would apply to us, too. We've crossed hundreds of mountains, walked over 1800 miles, and are in the best shape of our lives. I thought, "how hard could it be?"

Hard. Awesomely, agonizingly, beautifully, hard.

And now, the Whites behind us, we'll walk into Maine today. For months people we encountered along the trail and in towns have asked us where we're headed. "Maine," we've always replied -confidence growing in that response with every state line we crossed. I guess we'll have to be a little more specific from here on out.

July 20: Gorham, NH

1859.0 miles

Whoa.

These mountains are HUGE.

We've heard about the White Mountains of New Hampshire since we began this trek. People on the trail talk about them like some mythical beast that's gonna eat you. You hear things along the way like, "oh man, this is the steepest climb on the trail -except for the Whites of course." Or, "dude, the rocks in Pennsylvania are the worst! Except for the rocks in the Whites. Those are actually the worst." Or, "you think this is tough, wait until you get to the Whites."

It's no joke. These hills are bigger than life. And we are right in the middle of them.

Yesterday we summitted Mt. Washington, the second highest peak on the trail, and the location of -as the sign at the base of the mountains puts it- the worst weather in America. Sure enough. It was crazy up there. The peaks here are well above tree line, and there was no refuge from the 80 to 100 mile an hour winds whipping us sideways. One wrong step and you could easily break an ankle, so at times I scrambled across the jagged boulders on all fours. The clouds were so thick we could barely see 20 feet. And that was a nice day up there we hear.

Coming down Washington, we followed the rocky ridge of the Presidential peaks for 15 miles or so, said hello to Mr. Adams, TJ, and James Madison, then ducked back down into the trees, sad to lose the spectacular 360 views, but a little glad to be back on the familiar trails of mud and roots and rocks. That was some tough walking up there.

People ask us all the time what our favorite part of the trail has been. This is it. Right here. Rugged, agonizing on the knees, and hard to breathe, you'd have to be crazy to drag yourself up these hills. But I love every beautiful bit of it.