The Hike is Done...and so am I.

Yesterday's morning air was just right to make me alert quickly and perk my nipples. This was a good sign, but was no promise that I would be finishing the Keystone Trails Association's Susquehanna Super Hike. A hike that follows the Mason Dixon trail of York county from the Otter Creek Campground to the Normanwood bridge, across the Susquehanna, and up and over the rough ridges of the Conestoga trail, to the familiarity to me known as The Pequea Creek Campground...for intensive purposes, "home".

Our plan was to meet at Heidi's house at 5:15 a.m.. There we would make certain that we had all that was needed, and attach our registration numbers to our shirts, to officially make us become (and look like) legitimate participants in this event.

I made it a plan to get up early and chug a decent amount of coffee. This would surely get my stomach sweltering in an effort to churn and make my morning poop possible at Heidi's. It did. Everything is going as planned.

Together the three of us admitted our fears on the dark and cold school bus that shuttled us from Pequea to Otter. We made jokes while the rest of the bus was absolutely silent. No, really...you could have heard a pin drop with the exception of the roaring diesel and our intense laughter of repeated one liners.

The laughter helped, but did not eliminate the obnoxious family of butterflies in my stomach that seemed like they were going to be hard to digest.

Otter Creek campground was littered with stretching athletes and smiling volunteers with sleepers in their eyes. The lines for the restrooms were very long and we decided that maybe we'd better try and go here before final stretching and group prayer.

The men's room door was open and shortly inside a cluster of super jocks stood waiting for stalls. Another man came up quickly behind me and the man in front of me said "There are urinals available...if that is what you are here for", and we both said nothing and just stood in line expressionless.

I really had to do a #1, but thought it would be smart and try and stay in line and give a shot to my mornings second #2.

The men in front of me were tall and confident. They were chiseled from stone and the gear they obtained was for high performance and endurance. Their rock hard butt ox's were staring in my direction, and it made me shift my eyes to the mirror, where I caught a glimpse of myself...shoulders slouched with the weight of the world, dirty flannel shirt and concrete stained cut off shorts. I sucked in my gut, and still I was unhappy with the size it has become. It was very possible that this was some sort of trick mirror...really this thing was putting thirty pounds on me.

It was finally my turn for a stall. I did some business quickly and reminded myself to lube up one more time. I fished the small container of Vaseline from my intense back sack. I did the deed and dropped the container...it bounced around and slid under the wall to the stall next to me, out of sight. Before I could mutter a return request, the dude toe-kicked it back to my stall, as though he had done this a million times. I whispered "thank you" and returned it to it's designated pocket, washed my hands and went out side to meet my co-partners.

Heidi and Shannon were engaged in a conversation that was going over my head, so I began to stretch with out them. The stretching was necessary, but I felt silly doing it in the presence of obvious trained professionals. I was sure that they were mocking my warm up style. I jogged in place. I snapped my neck from one side to the other and I killed mosquitoes with precise karate chops.

Eventually, some official looking people started huddling around the starting line. Like loyal turkeys, we followed the masses and gathered. The officials called for the runners to be at the front of the pack. We took a step back and agreed collectively that the people in front of us were the runners. When the count down to begin ended, we were swarmed by everyone running. Like, everyone was running. People were passing us and bumping into us. It was extremely awkward. Heidi and Shannon were in a panic. "Matt! What do we do? What do we do?". They scuttled off to the side and almost started jogging. "LEON SAID 'NO RUNNING'". I told them and I held our ground...hiking.

The mass quickly calmed and we were in line going up hill at a decent hiking pace with 400 strangers.

The burn came quickly. I tried to save my breathing by not keeping up with Heidi's talking and agreed to Shannon's pace. Without too many details, I can assure you that the first hour and a half passed rather painlessly. The girls knew the checkpoints and were familiar with the map and had penned in estimated arrivals to certain points. I just kept hiking and wondered when an appropriate time would be to plug in my ipod.

Shannon was leading, setting the pace and took a bullet for me. She was stung by a bee that had my name on it, and due to the fact that I am highly allergic, I was gracious.

The peaks and valleys of the York side of the Susquehanna were new sights to my eyes. We charged inclines and passed previous joggers. We found the first rest stop an hour ahead of schedule and patted each other on the back. Heidi sent text messages to Alana and Ben, to assure that we were doing well as Shannon updated her face book status. I stretched and gobbled the free grub and bananas provided by our sponsor, Backcountry Edge (www.BackcountryEdge.com). We didn't take long (10 minutes tops) on this break and immediately started charging onward to Lock 12.

In addition to the cereal bars, water replenishment, fruit and power drinks, Back Country Edge also provided jell packets for nourishment and hydration. There were different flavors...we all decided to try the espresso flavor. The girls were sort of scared of the gel. Shannon hated it and Heidi didn't even try it...she has a caffeine problem that tends to make her act like a crack head and when she was reluctant to eat it, I urgently agreed with her to save it for Ben. I fell in love with the texture and taste. The texture was similar to (what I imagine) what it would be like to drink Elmer's glue, and the taste was something peculiar. Actually, I had every flavor of gel later on in our hike, and damn if I wouldn't have killed for a biscuit to go with the berry...'fo Shoshone!

Amazingly, Lock 12 seemed to come in no time flat from the first stop. We were tickled pink with our progress. I gave Heidi the trail rods that Leon had urged me to use. They were extremely helpful. Heidi's hands were swelling up like lumpy potatoes and I suggested that she take the poles to help with keeping her hands busier and hopefully improve circulation. I can say this now that is all said and done, but I missed the poles greatly. There was a definite advantage to being able to use your upper body to help thrust up inclines and to use them as counter weights on flatter areas. Heidi got tangled in the poles shortly after using them and wiped out in a ball of rocky dust off the trail. This was her first of many wipe outs and close calls. We re-adjusted the poles for her stature. The wipe outs continued and I denied every chance she gave me to have the poles back, because ultimately...I am a gentleman.

My morning butterflies were now digesting and occasionally I fumed the trail with butterfly farts.

Leon and some of his co-friends were at the Lock 12 check point. They were happy to meet us and I spent more time talking with him than I should have. This time should have been spent stretching religiously and doing a better job of filling my hydration pack. Maybe there was a fold in it or something, but I ended up running out of water before the next check point, which harmed my mentality greatly...but that is yet to come.

We left Lock 12 and began over the Normanwood bridge. We were extremely high in spirit and enjoyed the view greatly. There was a four-pack in front of us that I was assuming we would pass easily (it's not a race) but the distance between us never seemed to change, nor did the incline as we headed east.

Son of a bitch, this hill was lasting forever. The bridge itself has an incline that you would kinda notice in a car, but was very present on foot. Once over the bridge, the incline increased, as did the temperature of our hiking surface. The feet burned now with pain, and this was a first during the trek. The incline and the hot, hard surface was slowly killing us. We began to complain profusely. Finally, forty minutes after leaving Lock 12 we were back to trails via Holtwood park.

It didn't take us long to realize that we were trail hikers and not road runners. The trail massaged our feet back to normal, but we had various intense pains from the road. Knees and hips swelled and beckoned our permission to stop performing. Permission was denied. I stubbed my slowly becoming sorer toe, and almost had to begin running to submerse the pain. I took the lead and ground my teeth. This would be a perfect time to toss in the towel and call it a day. I couldn't hear the girls behind me and and no idea if they were even there. The trail was before me and I kept Shannon's pace, trying to bury all the pain. I broke my stick (since prince charming gave Heidi his poles, he now resorted to old fashioned oak branches for trail support...I wonder if hiking with a forty pound tree limb was actually contributing to my increase in fatigue?) and now used a shorter portion that dug into my palm. Whatever happened in the last twenty minutes was helping the pain go away and I could once again see 'going on' a prospect.

The Conestoga trail was quick to prove it's aggressiveness by testing agility over sharp rocks, intense inclines and loose, untrustworthy descents. Together, we talked less an sweat more.

Thinking that I had more than enough water was a big mistake. I drank and drank without considering the horror of running out. During one of the larger rock climbs (was this a hike or a climb?) I took a break in the early afternoon sun, and sucked on my hydration pack's straw only to suck and suck with no water coming forth. This for some reason weakened me. The thought of not having water made my nerves race and I felt like I could shit my pants.

I didn't want to ask the girls for their water (it's not like they were offering) because I wouldn't want anyone else to feel the way I felt at that moment, and, that includes the feeling of crapping one's self.

Forward.

We made it up the rest of the rock climb and it led to a dried up grassy incline. I stopped for two three second breaks. Before my third stop for three seconds I could hear the cheering of sponsor's volunteers. Hike on, dude...it won't be long now. My stick kept slipping in the grass on the way up, and I tried not to think about Heidi using the Black Diamond ultra light hiking poles...(available at www.backcountryedge.com)

The Pinnacle point was a beautiful overlook, but I couldn't help but sense the shadow of decent from this point.


I filled the hydration pack to the brim and dodged hundreds of bees at the check point. I wasn't hungry, but tried to eat a sandwich and sucked down a packet of gel that was about ninety degrees in temperature. MMMmm good!

What I heard about this descent was absolutely true. Maybe it wouldn't have been so bad if we were fresh, but at this point we are about 21 miles into our hike. My knees trembled vigorously in the first minute of a twenty minute decline. The girls didn't complain so much, so I tried not to...while wanting to scream. Near the bottom, I had to stop and take something for the pain. I popped four generic ibuprofen and swallowed with very minimal water. The thought of running out of water again scared the shit out of me.

Maybe it was my intense metabolism, but the medicine worked in mere minutes. Back to 100%? No, but definitely feeling like I could go on. We all sort of complained mildly occasionally, and when there was any dead air, Heidi would start yacking about some paper she wrote at school, or some other shit. Clearly it was too late in the day for me to suddenly jam my earphones in and drown her out with music...it would have been too awkward.

We were getting near the end. Shannon was hurting as well, but really felt the need to burn through it by going faster. This was not possible for me, and I urged her to move on and not wait, I knew if I needed it, Heidi would hold my hand.

We were now cresting 'the worst of the last of it' at a section known as House Rock. It was at this time that Leon and his equally athletic friend came charging over the trail from the ending point to meet us. They were fresh. They were happy to see us. I hated them from head to toe.

Heidi was refreshed by having someone new to talk to. Leon shot back with glee and interesting statements. I started to get a headache and tried to drown them out...I would have choked them both if I had the strength. I was silently dying with a mile to go. I was not being fair by comparing this 27.4 mile experience to what 'hiking' is like in general. Luckily Leon's friend was being respectively silent, and in doing so was avoiding my imaginary wrath of violence.

"One more little switch back and you guys are home free!" Leon encouraged as we crossed a newly paved section of Pequea roadway. Admittedly, his words were encouraging and I forgot about the choke hold and charged up the steep bank with the last of my energy...I left the three of them ten yards behind and stopped quickly for a drink of water from my hydration pack....wait a minute...nothing is coming out. I sucked harder until the rubber tip on the straw device pulled off. No water. I fell to the ground in dismay and failure. The sweat poured from my brow, nose and chin. Breathing in the rocky trail dust did nothing for my thirst and I...(I'm not exaggerating for effect) could feel the cold sense of failure. Goosebumps popped up on my forearms and I heard speed boats on the yonder river. I tried to keep my eyes open, for maybe then I could hold back the tears. Breathe heavily out the nose and keep your mouth shut. Words will extract emotion and then the dam will break and the tears will come. Everything about me hurt and I was ready for a full on mental break down with sobbing and snot running...dust sticking to my wet cheeks. This break down will be followed by an out right demand that these monsters following, just leave me here. I'm done.

The monsters that followed came closer.

Leon said something and smiled large enough that I could see his teeth through the mask of beard. I did not hear him, but was sure that he was tossing humorous advice my way; advice that I was surely deflecting with intense defense mechanisms and the urge not to cry in public.

Heidi was talking and no one was listening. She now used the poles effortlessly and naturally. I stared at my stupid stick on the ground before me; covered in sweat from my palm, and my palm caked with bark dirt. Indeed a gentleman I am...and I'm about to bawl my eyes out in front of two good friends and a man I've only known for 12 minutes. All hope was gone, and I really could give two shits about this stupid hike.

Leon's tall friend reached into his pocket without anyone seeing him but me. He pulled his hand from the pocket clenched, as though he was holding something. He rose the hand to his chin and opened his palm in front of his mouth and blew a mixture of fine dirt and dust in my direction and winked with a nod at the same time. Sparkles glistened across the trail in my direction and I heard echoes of an Indian flute playing an inspirational hymn that I'd never heard before, but it soothed me. The wind caressed the tall branches above and the leaves danced merrily in shadows of the sun. Could this be? yes. It was.

Trail magic.

I rose to my feet. I laughed at Leon's joke, and adored Heidi's talking. We walked the streets of Pequea and people cheered us on from the rooftops. Once on Trolley lane, people called our names and handed us beer. Children congratulated us. Leon and the magic man left our side to let us cross the finish line victors. Thank you.