Back in the mid-seventies sometime or other I was able to hike from a trailhead in northwest Connecticut (not far from home) through western Massachusetts, across Vermont, New Hampshire and not far into Maine. I'll never forget standing alone at 3,870 feet atop Goose Eye Mountain in southwestern Maine. No one in sight, brisk breeze a'blowing and that was the only sound around.
Never made it to Katahdin, until some ten years hence during a nice vacation outside Baxter State Park. Then I got the chance to climb the mountain.
During my time on the trail I met a young guy, early twenties perhaps, who came up fast behind me. Whereas I was carrying a full backpack this kid had a large daypack strapped on. His goal was to hike the entire AT as fast as he possibly could, and he was doing it. As he disappeared around the next bend I just shook my head in negative wonder — there, at that moment, we were in beautiful country on that trail: how much was he seeing of it? I was a plodder, always looking around after seeing my next immediate bootsteps.
I left him to speed-walk and took my time in the wilderness.
That's great you have such a connection with through hikers! Wouldn't you like to hear some of their stories when they were through with their hikes . . .
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