Yesterday I did an interview on the 700 Club. I’ll admit, that before this week I had never watched the 700 Club. Furthermore, because I live a stone’s throw from downtown Asheville and spend my summer’s on the trail, I’m not used to communities where everyone shares the same faith.

When I arrived at the show, it was weird to feel like a part of a bubble were the TV station, Regent College, and local hotel were all part of a Christian property and atmosphere. People would even bless me when I rode the elevator or walked down the hall - I am very blessed right now.

I think bubbles are good, for a time. Regardless of what faith you are or what you are most passionate about (politics, art, music, etc…), it is good to spend time with like minded individuals who can challenge you, encourage you, and understand your reasoning. The problem is, once inside of that bubble, it is often hard to leave.

Before I started the AT in 2005, I decided that I was going to avoid talking religion and politics at all cost. I was comfortable in what I believed (or so I thought), but I didn’t like confrontation and I didn’t want to offend anyone by sharing my beliefs. The problem is, the trail is really long, and you are going to run out of things to talk about with the other thru-hikers pretty quickly if you are not willing to be yourself. I very hesitantly started opening-up to other hikers about what I believed. Slowly, I started to learn than sharing my faith was more than stating a religious thought, it was simply revealing who I was. And I learned that the pot-luck of humanity on the trail was more than willing to love and accept me for who I was as long as I returned the favor.

I don’t believe in pushing religion, I believe in answering questions honestly - and if faith plays into that answer then we should be willing and able to speak about it. The modern trend is to view religion as something that is not politically correct. But in a land that is as free and diverse and beautiful as America, we should never be afraid to simply be who we are.

The trail provides us with a healthy, non-judgmental atmosphere where we can question, learn, and grow. I am so thankful for all the atheists, agnostics, mormans, christians, jews, hindus, and countless unclassified hippies that I have interacted with on the trail. They have taught me about their beliefs, helped me to embrace my own, and loved me - beyond a label - for the person I really am. 

I love that my time spent on the trail fills me with appreciation for the amenities that I enjoy at home.

At home, I love every hot shower, I relish clean cotton bed sheets, and I am grateful for all the cold goodies that are accessible in my freezer and fridge.

One of the reasons I decided to return to the trail after my first thru-hike in 2005 was because after a few months I began to take these simple pleasures for granted. I don’t want to feel like I deserve these items - I want to delight in them.

After seven summers of hiking, my appreciation now lasts throughout the year. And each summer when I go to the woods and leave these items behind, I am reminded how much I enjoy them throughout the year. However, last night as I was standing in the steam of a warm shower and smiling at the thought of my shampoo and conditioner, I realized that I tend to only appreciate the things that I have to give up.

I take for granted the blessings that I enjoy everyday on and off the trail, my health, my family, my friends - the ability to speak freely, to think aloud, to write, to worship.

I hope that I can always remain thankful for the appliances and inventions that I enjoy everyday, but I hope that my gratitude can grow and focus more fully on the gifts that fill my life beyond modern conveniences, on and off the trail.

It has been almost three weeks now since we finished the trail and in some ways it is all starting to feel like a dream. Brew and I returned home this past Sunday, and he started back to work today. Our house is the same, our friends are the same – if not more wonderful, and our little niece has a few more tricks, but she is still just as adorable and beautiful as when we left in June. If it were not for the peeling callous on my big toe, the tenderness in the bottom of my feet, and the blinding light-headedness that come when I stand up, I would rarely be reminded of our record attempt this summer. And I think that’s a good thing.

            If I expected the trail this summer to fill a void, then I would be highly disappointed. The truth is, as wonderful as the trail is, it cannot complete you. However, it can change you. And that is why we go, each summer, and most free days and weekends during the year. The trail has helped me to become more self-confident, patient, and accepting. This summer, the trail taught me to live in the moment, appreciate the small things, and never lose sight of hope.

Most people look at our 2011 journey as an athletic feat; however, I consider it to be a love story. I love the trail, and far more than that I love my husband. Beyond romance, I believe true love is best demonstrated through endurance and perseverance. That is what got me through the bad weather, intense pain, and many hardships this summer – a devotion to the trail and a complete trust and shared intimacy with my husband.

Contrary to some reports, I have yet to receive any financial endorsements, book deals, or lump sums since the trail, but that is not to say that I haven’t been rewarded. My post-trail trophies are the e-mails and letters I received from strangers saying that our journey has encouraged them to get outside, enjoy nature, and discover their own path. My increase in wealth can be measured in memories and self-growth. And my most cherished prize is the look that I share with my husband that says, “We did it. Despite the people who told us we couldn’t and against all odds, we believed in one another and we accomplished something amazing.” That look, in itself, is invaluable; and it is something that no one will ever be able to take away from us.

Looking ahead, I can’t wait until my body feels rested enough to return to the trail. I doubt that, for us, there will ever be a hike that compares to the intensity of this summer. Yet, I know that there will be lots of day hiking, trail runs, and long-distance backpacking trips in our future. I look forward to seeing other people go after our record on the Appalachian Trail, partly because I want them to know how much it hurts, and I also look forward to seeing the limits of human potential stretched even farther.

I believe that record holders never stand-alone, they simply crawl on the shoulders of the people that went before them. I could have never hiked the trail in 46 days if it hadn’t been for the example and inspiration of Andrew Thompson. His 47-day hike is phenomenal, and I would love it if he wanted to go after the record again - after all, his initials are A.T.

Regardless of who goes after the record in the future, I am sure he or she will do it differently because of our example this summer. I doubt that record setter will spend every night at the roadside, perhaps he or she won’t run, and that person will most certainly want to duplicate the support of the “pit crew.” I would love it if another woman wanted to go after the record. However, honestly, the attempt this summer was never about beating the boys. It was about doing my best - and I believed that my best was good enough for the overall record. In fact, I could have never been successful this summer without the help of the men in my life. (Thanks guys.)

Benton MacKaye, the founder of the Appalachian Trail, believed that the purpose of long-distance trails is, “To walk. To see. To see what you see.” I feel the same way. But personally, that expression has evolved in its meaning. At first it was about seeing nature, then it was about seeing nature and my true self. The words now also inspire me to see and seek out my full potential and the full potential of the trail.

I believe that people will not protect the trail, unless they can see what is in front of them. And to truly see the trail involves more than just hiking. You have to be able to experience the trail, on your own terms, and in your own language. I am so thankful that the trail is there for everyone at every stage of life. It can be experienced slow or fast, in short day-hikes or long sections. As members of the trail community, it is our responsibility to overlook preferences of speed, distance, and gear. And, instead, work together to promote and protect the trail and recognize our common bond, which includes a love of nature and the belief that something powerful and positive comes from physically moving through the wilderness.

Rest assured, the next person to set the overall record on the Appalachian Trail will most certainly have pure motives and a strong love of nature. The task is too difficult otherwise. 

Day 47 AKA The 19th Hole
Start time: 12:01am
End time: never

I’m sitting on the porch at our friends’ mountain house outside of Helen, Georgia, drinking 12-year Glenfiddich (Thanks again, Frank and Lauren!), checking emails, and gazing at some beautiful North Georgia mountains.
 
Also, I’m wearing deodorant for the first time in 46 days.
 
Here’s a brief rundown of the past few hours: Jen slept from 10pm to 8am then again from 11:30 to 2:30. Since then, she’s been talking to reporters and checking www.people.com. (Three great quotes: when she first looked on the website, she said, “I missed you, People!” Then she said, “Tell everyone that it’s important for me to catch up on hard news.” And a few minutes later, when she was a few pages in, she said, “Oh, Kate [Princess Katherine]… you’ve done so much while I was on the trail.”)
 
Also, Jen’s been doing nothing. Literally. Before her late morning nap, I said, “Do you want to watch some television? Or do you want to read a magazine?” And she said, “No. I’ll just sit here.”
 
She also said she feels like she was hit by a semi-truck. But she’s in good spirits- as evidenced by all her funny quotes- and she’s enjoying the recovery process so far.
 
Tonight, we’re going to eat leftover pizza, drink red wine, and watch TV. (Another great quote: Jen said earlier, “Yeah, I timed my finish so I could watch the season finale of The Bachelorette.” She is a big fan of JP. And If I’m being honest, I have to say so am I.)
 
In the coming days, we’ll be spending time with family then heading to the Outdoor Retailer show in Salt Lake City before spending more time with family and returning to Asheville.
 
And from there, life will go on.

But before that, we want to leave you with two final blog thoughts. The first is this: words fall short of expressing how grateful we are for your support.
 
There is no way we could have accomplished this goal without the help of the entire Pit Crew, the trail visits from friends and family- especially at Springer- and the support and prayers so many of you offered from afar.
 
We look forward to seeing you at book signings, presentations- and maybe even on the trails- so we can thank you in person. But until then, a blog message will have to do. So thank you.
 
And the second thought comes not from us, but from the One who “was and is and is to come”…
 
“Jesus looked at them and said, ‘With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.’” (Matthew 19:26)
 
To God be the Glory.
 
- Brew and Jen (August 1, 2011)

The Last Day- 36.2 miles
Start time: 2:45am
End time: 3:26pm

Jen, Carl, Maureen, and I woke up at 2:45 again. Jen was making some pretty terrible sounds as she got ready. Like, “I’ve been hiking 47 miles a day for 45 days straight and have gotten a total of 7.5 hours of sleep the last two nights” sort of sounds.
 
Carl said, “This is how it feels.” We talked later about that and what he meant- more or less- was, “This is how it feels when you’ve pushed yourself to the limit. And this is what you’ve got to overcome if you’re going to do something great.” I thought I knew what he meant when he said it. But I could tell Jen didn’t because she just groaned some more.
 
Anyway, they set off at 3:05. I was nervous again because you never know what can happen when someone’s night hiking on less than 4 hours of sleep. But Jen and Carl reached Neels Gap around 5:25.
 
Neither of them touched the hard boiled egg and mozzarella string cheese wraps I’d made them. I have to admit, I was a little insulted. I’ve been getting rave reviews for my wraps all trip- beginning with Dutch- and I’m not used to being rejected.
 
Carl chugged two Ensure shakes then they began climbing Blood Mountain a few minutes later. Maureen and I drove around to Woody Gap. When we got there at 6:05, Jen’s two brothers Jones and James were there. (Jones and his wife Jackie flew down from New York by way of Charlotte, where they have a place. James, Lindsay, and Hazel came straight from Litchfield Beach in South Carolina.)
 
I asked them if they knew Jen wouldn’t be there until 9 or so, and they said yes. James added, “This [waking up ridiculously early] is what I get for hanging out with my brother the banker.”
 
We talked until 7 or so then I told them I needed to take a nap. James took a nap, too. I think Jones stayed awake and talked to Maureen, but I’m not sure because I was passed out and drooling for the next hour and a half.
 
Jen came in at 9:05, but Carl was nowhere in sight. When she got to the car, she told us he had to stop early in the 10.6-mile stretch because he’d gotten sick. Carl had been having stomach issues for weeks. Plus, he’d just finished helping organize a road race that ran through TN from MO to GA.
 
Jen said she waited for him for a few minutes, then decided she couldn’t control when he got there but she could control when she got to us. I should mention that, like any good Sherpa, Carl was carrying the snacks and drinks.
 
So after Jen got down a Pepsi- along with one of my gourmet and under-appreciated egg wraps- she elaborated on what how she’d felt with no food or water for 10+ miles. At one point, she said half-jokingly, “I saw a lot of animals on that stretch- I just don’t know if they were all real.”
 
But she felt better after taking in some more snacks and juice water, and she and Jones were heading for Gooch Gap by 9:15. Maureen and I drove around while James waited for Carl to come out of the woods.
 
Apparently, Jones was really pushing Jen and saying things like, “Come on… you should be running right now! This is a runnable section.” So she ran for a while and they got in at 10:21. James and Carl were nowhere in sight so Jones hiked/ran the next section to Cooper Gap.
 
At some point along the way, I stopped to check the map and realized that James and Carl were behind Maureen’s enormous diesel-engine Ford truck. When we got to Cooper Gap, Carl told us how he’d stopped so Jen couldn’t hear him throw up because she said if she’d heard him, she’d have probably gotten sick, too. So he was sprawled out on all fours in the middle the trail, puking his guts out for five minutes.
 
Eventually, he got to his feet and started hiking again but as he ran down Blood Mountain to catch up with Jen, he jostled his stomach enough that he got sick again. Then he realized he wasn’t going to catch her, so he took a side trail down to Winfield Scott State Park where he hoped to hitch a ride to Woody Gap.
 
A guy in a truck took him a mile or two before he had to turn off, but no one else would pick him up so he had to road walk the remaining 7 miles. But he made it. And we were glad. The Pit Crew had gone 46 days without a lost-time injury. We didn’t want to ruin the streak so close to the end.
 
Jen and Jones reached Cooper Gap around 11:35, and James hiked with her from there.
 
Eventually, people realized that they couldn’t reach me on my phone because I’d thrown it in a Dairy Queen Blizzard so they started tracking me down on Jen’s phone. It turned out to be a good thing because I was able to give my parents directions to Hightower Gap and they were able to meet us there.
 
Jen and James came through around 12:45 and only stayed for a few minutes before pressing on toward Three Forks, which was 4 miles away. At this point, Jen could definitely smell the barn.
 
My sister Dearing and I drove around to Three Forks where Warren was waiting. He’d rearranged his schedule and driven hours out of his way so he could meet Jen at Three Forks and hand her a cup of water from the stream.
 
When Jen got to Three Forks, I cranked John Cowan’s version of “Mighty Clouds of Joy” from the Telluride Bluegrass Festival compilation. (She would ask me to sing that song whenever I walked with her on the flat stretches of trail.)
 
From Three Forks, Jen and James had 3.3 miles to Forest Service Road 42. They reached it around 3:05. Everyone was on top of Springer except Jen’s mom- who was waiting to take photos of Jen and James- and me. I played “The Cave” by Mumford and Sons. That’s been the unofficial theme song this summer because it talks about “strength through pain” and it makes lots of allusion to the Odyssey.
 
Jen started sobbing. I cried, too. We hugged, and I said, “You did it…” And she said, “No. We did it…” We held hands on our way up Springer. I asked if Jen would want to hug people or take photos or do anything else before finishing, and she said, “I just want to touch the rock.”
 
I asked her if she wanted to know who was here and she said “no.” Every now and then, she would take gasping breaths and start crying again, but then she’d regain her composure.
 
Jen’s family friend Serena, who’d fed Jen lasagna on a tablecloth in northeast TN, took some photos a hundred yards or so from the rock. When we got near the summit, we could hear all the people.
 
We came out of the woods onto the granite slab and everyone had their cameras out. There were 45 or so people there. They all started cheering and taking photos. Jen started crying again. We touched the sign together then we hugged and cried some more. It was kind of funny having so many people around. Everyone recognized how awkward it was and as the cameras flashed someone said something about a “private moment.” Everyone laughed.
 
Jen looked at her watch to mark the time. 3:26pm. 46 days, 11 hours, and 20 minutes after she touched the sign on Katahdin. Then we sat on the rock and took it all in.
 
Jen saw her Samford friend Emily who’d driven all the way from Mississippi with her husband Jeff. She didn’t know Emily was coming so she started crying all over again. And that happened several more times because people Jen cared about so much had driven so far.
 
Her Samford roommate Katie had driven from Birmingham with her husband David, son Peter, and mom Beth. Mark Catlin, another Samford friend, had driven 15 hours round trip from Raleigh with his wife and son to spend an hour on top of Springer. And loads of friends, family, and strangers from western NC, TN, GA, AL, and SC.
 
Warren stood off in the background taking it all in, wearing a green shirt with a white blaze on it, looking very much like a part of the AT. I hugged him and said “thank you.” We both started to cry and he said, “thank you… thank you…” He hugged me so tight I almost couldn’t breathe.
 
It was all very special and wonderful. Like a wedding.
 
After all the photos and hugs, Jen signed the register. It was short and sweet. She wrote, “Full of love, appreciation, memories, and no regrets! - Jennifer Pharr Davis “Odyssa” July 31, 2011.” Eventually people started straggling back down the mountain.
 
A few friends and family got lost along on the way to Springer, but we got to see them in the parking lot. Jen’s friend Alice who drove up from Atlanta, brought champagne and plastic cups. We cranked Mumford and Sons again. Jen and I danced to “The Cave.” After another 20 or 30 minutes, everyone said their goodbyes and we headed our separate ways.
 
As Jen and I were driving back down forest service road 42, we stopped to ask a group of soldiers who were doing military exercises which was the quickest way down to Dahlonega. They asked if we’d been to Springer to see the endurance hiker, and we told them Jen was the endurance hiker.
 
They called their sergeant over because he wanted to shake her hand and congratulate her. We thanked them for serving our country then drove toward Helen where we spent the night with our friends Frank and Lauren at Lauren’s parents’ mountain house (Thanks, Don and Genevieve!).

We visited with them for a while, ate some pizza then went to bed. And that was the end of our arduous, sublime adventure.
 
Psalm 91

1 Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.

2 I will say of the LORD, “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.”

3 Surely he will save you from the fowler’s snare and from the deadly pestilence.

4 He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.

5 You will not fear the terror of night, nor the arrow that flies by day,

6 nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness, nor the plague that destroys at midday.

7 A thousand may fall at your side, ten thousand at your right hand, but it will not come near you.

8 You will only observe with your eyes  and see the punishment of the wicked.

9 If you say, “The LORD is my refuge,” and you make the Most High your dwelling,

10 no harm will overtake you, no disaster will come near your tent.

11 For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways;

12 they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.

13 You will tread on the lion and the cobra; you will trample the great lion and the serpent.

14 “Because he loves me,” says the LORD, “I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.

15 He will call on me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble,  I will deliver him and honor him.

16 With long life I will satisfy him and show him my salvation.”
 
 
 
 

Note: Since we were post-dating the posts to protect Jen and the record, some of the “Days” got a little bit off.  We were calling the “Days” the number of the day we wrote them, not the actual day. So, this post is the actual Day 45.

Be forewarned: day 45 was pretty epic, and the blog entry is longer than usual, which is saying something because these entries seem to be getting longer and longer. Sorry for that.
 
For the second time on an AT record attempt, Jen completed a 60-mile day.
 
Anyway, Jen (and therefore we… ugh) woke up at 2:45am. When Carl climbed out of his minivan, I said, “Good morning.” Then I started wondering if 2:45 counted as “morning” or not. I decided it depends on whether you’ve just woken up or haven’t gone to bed yet. So for us, it was morning.
 
They started walking toward Deep Gap a little after 3am. Mo and I tried to get a little more sleep. I don’t know how it was for Mo, but I had a pretty tough time. I was too worried that- in the dark- Jen was going to wipe out or twist her ankle or do something else that would jeopardize the hike in the last hundred miles.
 
But they arrived at Deep Gap without incident at 7:30, a little later than expected but I was happy for that because it meant they took their time.
 
From Deep Gap they had 15.8 to Dicks Creek Gap. Mo and I had some time to kill so we drove into Hiawassee to check email and find some meds for my poison ivy. I think I must have gotten it using the men’s tree (Rambler’s term, not mine) in Cade’s Cove or something. It’s the worst poison ivy I’ve ever had because it’s right on the back of my knee where it stays sweaty. It also doesn’t help that I haven’t showered in a few days. One blister looks like a cinnamon flavored Jelly Belly. (Sorry. Was that too graphic? I think we established with the pregnancy test blog and the “flat and fast” small boobs blog that this would be a mostly unfiltered journal.)
 
Anyway, now I have a torn ACL on my right knee and a gnarly rash on my left, which all makes for some interesting walking.
 
We got to Dicks Creek Gap around 11:50. Jen and Carl (I haven’t mentioned this yet, but the obvious nickname for him- given that his last name is Laniak and that, among other things, he’s completed 70+ miles at the Barkley [a 100-miler in TN that only 10 people have finished in 25 years]- is Laniak the Maniac) cruised in around 12:25. They’d definitely picked up the pace a bit from the last stretch so I was starting to feel better that Jen would have a chance to complete a 60+ mile day and still get in at a reasonable time.
 
They didn’t stay long but before they left, I asked Carl if there was another access point between Dicks Creek and Tray Gaps. He said we could drive toward Addis Gap (5.4 miles south of Dicks Creek) and then hike another ½ mile or so from there. I’ve been trying to meet Jen at every possible road crossing so I decided we’d give it a go. Also, we owed Jen a milkshake because we forgot to bring her one at Dicks Creek. Also, I like hiking in- you could almost say I need it- since I can’t do any real hiking on the AT this summer and it helps me feel more connected to Jen and what she’s doing.
 
So the Pit Crew drove back into Hiawassee to pick up a last major round of groceries at Ingle’s and a chocolate shake at the Dairy Queen, then we headed toward Addis Gap.
 
When I’d driven as far as I could, I jumped out of the car and headed up the trail. I’d been hiking for about a ½ mile and still wasn’t anywhere near the gap when I turned a corner on the gravel road and had my best animal encounter of the summer.
 
About 25 feet in front of me, a beautiful, medium sized grey-and-white peppered screech owl (I had to Google that) was cleaning himself in the middle of the road. I froze and he went about his business for another five or ten seconds then he must have realized somebody was watching him because he swiveled his head slightly and continued cleaning himself. Then a couple seconds later he swiveled his head all the way around so he could see me.
 
He stared at me and I stared back at him then he turned his whole body, took a couple of steps, flapped his wings, and started flying low and right at me. I had Jen’s blue pit stop chair over my left shoulder and was about to bring it around to cover myself, but then when he got within ten feet or so, he pulled up and off to the left and found the nearest branch. We stared at each other for another minute or two. Then he sort of lost interest and started cleaning himself again.
 
It was an awesome moment and probably the only thing that could have distracted me from hiking up to meet Jen and Carl.
 
I reached Addis Gap a few minutes after 2pm and was beginning to worry I’d miss them but they strolled in about ten minutes later. Jen inhaled the milkshake and Carl told me he was glad I was there because he was pretty wiped out and was hoping he could take a break for a stretch or two so he could night hike at the end of the day. Jen took the pack and kept walking when she finished her milkshake and Carl and I headed down to the car.
 
We drove around to Tray Gap with Maureen. (Yorke had met us at Dicks Creek Gap then headed to Amicalola State Park to pick up Jen’s older brother Jones. The two of them drove back to Mooney Gap to pick up Carl’s minivan and drive it around to where we’d finish so Carl could have his normal sleeping arrangement for the evening.)
 
The drive to Tray Gap took a long time but as we pulled up, we got to see a young black bear foraging down a side trail. He stood and watched us for a while then sauntered off into the underbrush then resurfaced a few minutes later for some more photo ops. He was probably 40 yards away. I was happy to have a couple of animal encounters today since Jen’s had so many throughout the hike.
 
She didn’t stop long at Tray Gap before heading on to Indian Grave Gap. There have been only two times on the trail where I’ve told people who Jen was and what she was doing. Both times involved groups of young girls, and Indian Grave Gap was the second time.
 
This particular group of teenage girls was on a wilderness therapy hike. I told them that my wife would be coming down the trail in a few minutes and that she was trying to break the overall record on the Appalachian Trail and that it’s always been held by men. Being the teacher, I guess, I saw both instances as teachable moments.
 
Anyway, the girls cheered her on and yelled “girl power!” and “You go, girl!” and stuff like that as she walked through. Jen gave me a dirty look because she’s shy and doesn’t like attention, which seems counterintuitive given her predilection for public speaking, but she’s a total introvert and recharges by being by herself or with me.
 
From Indian Grave Gap, Jen had only 2.6 miles to Unicoi Gap. She got there around 5:20 and left with Carl around 5:35 for the last major stretch of the day, a 13.8-miler to Hogpen Gap.
 
Mo and I drove from Unicoi Gap into Helen to get some Mexican food, a few more groceries, and a map of North Georgia. (I had AT maps but they didn’t include all of the roads we needed to use on the final day.)
 
Helen was a little overwhelming. I think it’s referred to as the “Georgia’s Gatlinburg.” It’s nowhere near as shocking as the real Gatlinburg or Pigeon Forge, but since we had to walk down the crowded sidewalks and since we got stuck in some weekend traffic, it felt worse.
 
I was hoping we could meet up with my parents, who were supposed to arrive in Helen this evening. But they got stuck in Atlanta traffic (imagine that) and didn’t make it in time.
 
On our way out of Helen, Mo and I coordinated with Yorke and Jones so they’d know where to bring Carl’s car. They’d been driving for hours and hours and they really wanted to get back to the lodge at Amicalola, but they made the extra effort to track us down so Carl could sleep in his van, and I really appreciated that.
 
We got to Hogpen Gap around 9:15. I made some phone calls to tell our friends and family when they should arrive at Springer then I headed down to Tesnatee Gap to set up the tent while Mo stayed at Hogpen to wait for the hikers. I got back up about 10:15, twenty minutes or so before Jen and Carl came through. It was an incredible thing to see those headlamps bobbing down the trail toward us. Mo and I started wooping and yelling, and I cranked “The Cave” by Mumford and Sons. They’d finished 59.3 miles but Jen wanted to have a 60-mile day, a “statement day,” as Warren calls it. Carl dropped the pack and they crossed the road and headed up one more short climb before descending to Tesnatee, .9 miles away.
 
When they got down there, I yelled, “60 freaking miles!” Jen pretty much collapsed in my arms as she came out of the woods, as much out of satisfaction and pleasure, I think, as out of exhaustion.
 
We had their Mexican food waiting for them. I had a Highland Oatmeal Porter for Carl and the Wet Ones for Jen. Carl poured a gallon of water over his head in lieu of a shower. Jen doctored her feet for a few minutes then set the alarm for 2:45 again. I cried a few tears. Ok, not really, but I was not happy about waking up at 2:45 for a second consecutive “morning.” Then we hit the sack, knowing that Jen needed to do “only” 36.2 miles tomorrow to have a new overall AT record.
 
One other funny thing I forgot to mention: I asked Mo to get me a small Heath Bar Blizzard from Dairy Queen when we’d gone back to Hiawassee. I grabbed it when we pulled off GA 75 and started eating it on the way up to Addis Gap.
 
I got about halfway through it before it was time to start hiking up the rest of the way. You can imagine my surprise and displeasure when Carl and I got back to the car and I saw my month-old phone (my first new phone in almost 7 years) partially submerged in the frothy remnants of my half eaten Blizzard.
 
It had fallen out of my pocket at some point while I was driving. I tried to drain it and clean it off but I could tell it was a lost cause when I saw the sugar milk dripping out from behind the keypad. The day before, I’d been really frustrated when I left my phone at Burningtown Gap. But this time, all I could do was laugh. With the 30-40 calls and dozen or so texts I’d been receiving every day for the past week, I couldn’t decide whether the timing was terrible… or perfect.

After 46 days, 11 hours and 20 minutes Jen has finally finished the 2,181 mile trail. She reached the end at 3:26 p.m. today. Hard to express how proud of her we are.  Pics and more stories from the trail to come soon.

Jen hiked more than 60 miles yesterday and only needs to do about 30 today to get to Springer.  She got a great start this morning and should be here and setting the record this afternoon.

Hi everyone—this is very exciting.

As of 6pm tonight (Saturday), Jen had completed 45 miles and was hoping to put in another 15 before going to bed. If she finishes that tonight, she’ll have only 36.2 miles to go. Right now she’s planning on waking up at 2:45 to start hiking by 3am so if you’re planning on coming out to Springer, you should probably be there by 1pm to be safe. Sorry for the late notice, but better late than never. Thanks!