I Miss Our Cat

Tonight I went for my last run until after the hike. The weather is muggy and warm, and I caught some fantastic lightning while I was out. I realized while I was wrapping up that the next time I run, it will be mid-September and the weather conditions will be drastically different. It’ll be getting darker earlier and the humidity will (hopefully… thankfully) be gone. It’s bizarre to think about how long we’ll be gone, and even more bizarre to think about how life will go on without us.

The reality of how soon we’re leaving has been hitting me in waves over the past week, and I think that’s true for Mike as well. It’s expected as we hit milestones, like getting our resupply packages finalized, and getting them out the door to the wonderful people who are helping us out, but the day to day, simple steps in the process are arguably more profound.  For example, dropping Chocorua off at Mike’s parents’ house in New Hampshire, along with the resupply kits, was pretty significant, but the feeling has reverberated each time we’ve walked into the apartment to realize Chocorua won’t be greeting us at the door. It hits us again how soon we’re leaving, and that this hike, which has consumed so much of our lives over the past year, will finally have full reign for 17 days.

Chocorua is #goatworthy. I feel I should confirm that this box was not the mode of transportation used to get him to New Hampshire this weekend.

Planning away, splitting up our guide book, and shedding all unnecessary weight – one page at a time.

It’s exciting, frightening, exhilarating, and every other emotion. There’s still a lot to be done before we take our initial steps into the woods Friday morning, but I think we’re ready.