Best Laid Schemes

       After three nights in Caratunk, Maine elevating, icing, and epsom salting, the swelling in Seth's feet has gone down minimally and he continues to experience quite a lot of pain when he walks. Lots of thoughts and even more feelings to sort through with this development. We considered waiting a few more days in Caratunk to see if anything changed, but there really aren't medical resources there and the only reasons we'd stay is to be able to jump back on the trail, which seems less likely as the status of the feet stays the same. We've opted to catch a bus to Portland, Maine to give us more travel and medical options. Someone is going to have to drive us an hour to a bus stop to give you an idea of how far off the beaten track we are. I figured that we might as well see the Maine coast and have a lobster roll, since we're up here. Focusing on the short-term goal of the lobster roll has helped keep some of the feelings at bay, but nevertheless there have been tears shed at having to adjust plans.

Here's a man ready to be flexible- in his life plan. But he'd also probably take more flexibility, like, in his body- that would feel good. 

       Now, truly, everything is up in the air at this point, so anything could happen. If a doc says Seth just has tendinitis with no skeletal injuries maybe we'll hop back on the trail and knock some sections out. It's difficult to consider all the research, planning,  energy that went into making this trip happen to have it end after two weeks. At the same time, I feel great about hiking 150 miles! That's certainly the longest I've ever hiked and my boots look like they did something! But then you compare the length we did to the entirety of the trail and it's like "Pfffff, we didn't do anything."  

I think these boots say, "Hey, I've traveled some miles! I've seen things!"  And maybe also, "I'm ready for more!"

       Not surprisingly, it's also bringing up a lot about the married life. I have selfishly had thoughts like, "I feel great! Maybe Seth could just do support along the trail while I continue to hike it!" But I don't want to do the trail that way and we're in it together. This shift we're having to make in our plans is definitely not a big deal in the grand scheme of things, but it is a micro-example of how priorities have to change for the couple when something changes for one person in the unit. And I've had various reactions to it including, "Can't help that his feet hurt- we'll come up with a new fun plan" and "Stupid Seth and his stupid feet- should've worn different shoes," etc. So I'm also having to reassure myself that these are all human reactions and just try to show up gracefully. We've also had to support each other while managing our own feelings, which isn't new for us, but feels acute at the moment. Seth is having his own emotional experience with being in pain and not wanting to disappoint me, so we're having to negotiate our own emotions and emotional support. 

       So now we're having to think about what we want do in the short term and long term. Having to make these decisions has made me realize that while the Appalachian Trail has a lot of variables and you don't know what you're going to run across, there's really only one thing you're doing and that's walking to the next shelter, food or water. Don't have to do much planning beyond that. Seth and I are now having to think about where to go, mode of transport, cost, length of stay, etc. Its easy to get dizzy with all the options and we've had to figure out what values will guide us now. 

        There's a lot of back and forth about that now. For example, Seth suggested that we go to the beach and hang out there for a while. His feet hurt, so we he wants to relax and it would be nice to be somewhere warm and sunny after all the chilly rain in Maine. I, however, felt uninterested in the idea of plopping down somewhere and reading. I want some spontaneity, movement and exploration! I like the idea of going to Portland, Maine just to see a lighthouse and eat a lobster roll.

       Our experience in Caratunk affirms my desire to position ourselves for less-curated tourist experiences. Case in point- we talked for a couple hours with Howard, an older gentleman who lives near the B & B, about his experiences as a former senator of Maine, the logging industry in Maine and his experiences interviewing for medical school in the segregated south in the 60s. He gave us a tour of his barn filled with tools and memorabilia of the Maine logging industry of the 1800s. He plans to turn the barn into a museum, so we got a little sneak peek! I also appreciated his perspective on choosing to live in Caratunk after growing up in New York as a way to feel connected to some kind of higher power after distancing himself from his orthodox Jewish upbringing and  declaring himself a secular humanist.  The encounter was unplanned and organic- an excellent way to spend the afternoon. 

Future site of the Maine Logging Museum of Caratunk. 

Logging equipment that Howard salvaged from the river.  

         Also, we discovered a delicious local drink called Moxie. It's kind of like root beer, but has a bit of a bitter taste to it. I can't wait to order a case of Moxie when we get home and make Moxie floats. This could be a total game changer in my life. Fun fact: the word "moxie" that has come to mean courage, daring, or spirit comes from this drink's name as its advertising campaign wanted it to be known as an enlivening medicinal drink. Word origins of this kind tickle me. 

Note: A lot of moxie mustered for this photo. 

  It was raining as we were driving to the bus station and I thought, "I'd hike in the rain if it meant we got to keep hiking." Which is a pretty bold thing to say given all my griping about being wet on the trail a few days ago. When we got to the station, another bus goer saw our packs and asked if we were hiking the trail. He completed a NOBO (northbound) trek last year. I told him what was happening and I can't remember his response exactly, but it implied "this is the journey." Just because we're leaving the trail at this time, it doesn't mean the journey has ended.