I know Where I am Going

Editorial Note.  The letter below, entitled, “I know where I am going” was written on Sept. 5, 2007 by Robert Harmon while he was hiking the Appalachian Trail.  He had been on the trail for almost five months and would not reach his final goal until mid October.  Since the photo below was taken before the letter was written, here is the backstory.  Rob got off of the AT at Bear Mountain, hitchhiked to NYC where I met him at Wayne and Karen’s apartment.  I drove him back to Bear Man, watched him pack 4 to 5 days worth supplies which means 5000 calories a day which also included a loaf of bread which fit into his pack by first untying the twist tie, squashing it down until the loaf was about 2 inches in length and then retying the twist tie.  There was a poignant goodby.  Then I took this picture just before he disappeared into the woods.   

           

At the Bear Mountain trailhead   

 

Hello To All,

Once again I must apologize for not writing for so long - I am currently sitting on the Campus of Dartmouth College in Hanover, New Hampshire.  I am exhausted and weary - since the last time I wrote I have been humbled many times but I am still hiking!  In the mid-Atlantic section of Pennsylvania, New Jersey and New York I ran into dense humidity, an exploding insect population and rocky, unforgiving terrain.  Now the mountains are getting higher as the weather is getting colder.  I have been lucky to hike with old friends recently, Sled Dog and Cairnwater namely; 

I call them “old friends” since I started with them but in fact I’ve only known them for four and a half months!  The trail continues to empty out as people I’ve hiked with drop out because of injuries or other reasons.  I myself had a sore back last week but it seems to be getting better;  some kind of inflamed nerve, I think.

This letter must be brief as I have much to do before I  hike out today   but I would like to share one story:  I was hiking in the Shenandoahs the weekend before the 4th of July and the park was packed.  One night I was hiking at twilight on a section that ran right by a big camping area.  At times the distance between myself and the campsites was only about 20 to 25 feet.  I could easily observe the campers and their “gear” :  lawn chairs, enormous bug zappers, coolers filled with beer and soda, massive tents, RVs.  It was wonderful cross-section of America in all its tackiness and glory.  At first laughed at the holiday revelers and their idea of the great outdoors until the whole thing unexpectedly looked familiar and welcoming to me.  The sensation could be something like in “The Jungle Book” when the character Mowgli wished to rejoin human society. The feeling was strong for a few seconds until I passed out of their sight and I realized that, for the time being, my place was in the wilderness with the bears and snakes and spiders.  I still feel the same disconnected feeling as giggling Dartmouth freshmen walk by me and yet I know that in a few hours I will be deep in the mountains, far from the cares of the world.

In saying this I admit how much I miss you all and how much I look forward to regaining your company.  For now know that I am okay and moving forward. ……………………….. Lazy Legs (Rob Harmon)