"They were all terribly footsore. No spring or rebound was left in them. Their feet fell heavily on the trail, jarring their bodies and doubling the fatigue of a day's travel. There was nothing the matter with them except that they were dead tired. It was not the dead-tiredness that comes through brief and excessive effort, from which recovery is a matter of hours; but it was the dead-tiredness that comes through the slow and prolonged strength drainage of months of toil. There was no power of recuperation left, no reserve strength to call upon. It had all been used, the last least bit of it. Every muscle, every fibre, every cell, was tired, dead tired." - Jack London, Call of the Wild
I've been reading Jack London's Call of the Wild lately on the trail and that passage really hit home when I read it. Of course London was writing about a team of sled huskies, not hikers, but I feel like it accurately describes how we are feeling these days. My legs have become slender, muscular, and strong, but with every step uphill, I can feel the 1900 miles behind me and my legs are dead tired.
We will cross the border into Maine tomorrow and with it signifies the beginning of the end. Maine itself has been a goal this whole trip, and to make it there means there really is a light at the end of the tunnel. This has been the BEST thing I have ever done, and it's starting to hit me that it's almost over.
Tonight I'm camped by a beautiful lake with Gribley & White Wolf. Everyone picked up their poison of choice for the big border party, and Gribley packed in a package of boxed wine - 3 liters/4 bottles/6 pounds of Cabernet Sauvignon for us to share. We've tapped into it tonight & built a campfire, toasting each other to all that's behind us and everything yet to come. Cheers!