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Two Braids

Competitive Thru Hiking?

I had so much fun climbing up Katahdin. Terrain had a mixture if everything- rock climbing, traverse, flat ground, below tree line & above tree line moments, dirt, sand, mud, rocks….sun, clouds, wind… you get the point.


It was also notoriously the busiest day of the year; August 27, the Saturday before Labor Day. Over 500 hikers were on the mountain this day and it really showed. Massive amounts of people- the most I’d seen at one time on the AT besides experiencing The White Mountains of New Hampshire in July.


There were 12 spots at Birches Long Distance Hiker Campground and over 30 thru hikers hoping for a spot/ to summit Katahdin that next day. People were getting strategic in a game I like to call “competitive hiking” during the 100 Mile Wilderness. Asking questions like: what day will you summit? and what’s your pace? to try and calculate who would be where and when. It was actually blowing my mind. People were waking up at 2 am or not sleeping to get their name on that list for Birches. Some succeeded and others, forced to secede. For those not on the list, this means multiple zeros before attempting their final climb.

But if you know me at all you know there’s always another way. I decided to sleep in, have a leisurely morning and stress less on this potentially big hiking day. I packed up my campground *as if I did* have a campground for the night and *as if I was* going to be climbing Katahdin the next day. I walked up to the ranger with my hiking partner around 10 am. He stopped us at the bridge and asked if we had a campground reservation (mandatory to enter) Of course not… but I did ask if anyone cancelled.



The rangers are on their walkie talkies going back and forth. There’s one site available and before we get our hopes up too far, we hear another ranger claim the spot for a couple on the other side of the park. The tension is high and our ranger is fighting for us…



As soon as I over heard the campground number we were contesting for, a wave washed over me. Time slowed down. Every second of mumbling ranger talkie chat felt a minute long as we anxiously awaited the confirmation. I confidently told my partner not to worry. Confused and hopeful he looked up at the mountain and I with certainty. I knew this site would be ours.



Finally, we are allowed across the bridge. The ranger declares that for tonight, the campsite belongs to us. It’s campsite 18. Both of us have tears rolling down our faces. For him, these are the final stages of a realized childhood dream. For me, that number confirmed that I was exactly where I needed to be and that my Dad is with me through my hike, guiding from above. His firehouse was Ladder 18.






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