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.