Climb Every Mountain

I climbed a mountain once. It was largely accidental, but changed my life forever. I don't doubt that I will climb more challenging mountains, but this mountain will always be my mountain. The mountain is called Katahdin and it is the northern terminus of the Appalachian Trail, located in the Baxter State Forest in Maine. As a hiker, I obviously was going to get to this hike sooner or later, but the nature of the climb took me by surprise. As we passed the tree-line and began a near vertical assent up the rock face, my partner made mention of the fact that we were hikers and that this looked more like the Matterhorn than the Appalachian trail! We both dug deep, supported each other, and made the climb; neither of us left the same as we had come.

The Indians who had inhabited that part of Maine had believed that Katahdin was a place of powerful spirits and they rarely ventured the slopes of the mountain out of respect and awe for the Gods that lived there. I can't adequately describe what I felt on Katahdin, but I agree with the Indians that there is great power in that place.

I've often wondered that people wanted their ashes left in some special place. Places never really held much sway with me before. I've often told my family that I'd be just as happy to have my body donated to science or put to some other good use. I don't feel that way anymore. Something on Katahdin got into my soul and I can no longer see the two things as separate. When I move on from this world, I want my ashes left on Katahdin.

There's a tall thin Cairn of rocks a few meters from the sign that marks the end of the Trail. This is where I want my ashes left, sprinked between the rocks of the Cairn. This will be the end of my trail in this world as well (hopefully the final end as I'm not looking to return). I finally begin to understand those who want their ashes left on a certain beach or spread over some lake and I'm happy to have been touched so deeply by something in this world. I hope you all get the pleasure at some point in your lives.

As for my wish, I feel a little guilty about it. It's a five hour climb up the mountain and I can see my children (or grandchildren) cussing the whole way up the mountain about what an ass Grandpa was and was he really worth all this work???

.... Please just don't drop me in some ash can along the way.