September 21, 2008
This is a 5-month long series of blog posts that are the entries in my journals written on most evenings as I hiked the Appalachian Trail in 1993. The journal entry appears first — indented — and then any additional commentary from my 15-years-removed perspective follows.
9/21/93 – Tue.
Where to start?
Dee died on Sunday, and I found out last night when I went into Rangeley, so I’m taking three days off in Caratunk, ME, to go to the funeral. In a sort of bizarre, twisted way, I’m kind of glad that he died before I finished the trail. For one thing, it gives me some time to put things into perspective. Also, though, I kind of feel like the inconvenience and delay that his death has caused allows me to kind of a make a tribute to him — his death has disrupted my schedule, but I am glad.
Also, I get to see Julie sooner than I had thought I would, which is a secondary positive, but a definite positive.
Finally, I managed to leave Rangeley without my pack cover and rain jacket, so it looks like I’ll be plastic-bagging it for a few days. I’ll try to call Papi from Stratton and let him know I’ll pick them up on the way back to the trail.
I had kind of hoped for solitude tonight, but a highly talkative southbound thru-hiker from _______ (age: 49, trail name: ______). he seemed kind of nice at first, but he seems more and more like a macho jerk who doesn’t shut up and doesn’t know how to listen.
(sigh) Maybe another night.
I believe this is the night I spent at the shelter that I went back and visited during our family vacation last month.