Katahdin

Standing at 5,269 feet, Mount Katahdin is the highest mountain in Maine. As you enter the wilderness, the sun seems to vanish quickly, lost in the density of the woods. The crisp mountain air fills your lungs, carrying a sharp chill that reminds you of the rawness of nature.

This mountain holds a special place in my heart. It’s where I had the privilege of standing beside my brother Josh (trail name "Hugs") as he completed his final climb on the Appalachian Trail. Sharing that moment with him was an incredible honor.

The drive to Katahdin is long, and much of Maine is flat, but when you finally see the mountain standing proud in the distance, there’s no mistaking it—it’s a striking sight.

We began our ascent from Katahdin Stream, following the Appalachian Trail. Keeping up with my brother was no small feat; he moved like a spider, effortlessly bouncing off the rocks. At first, the woods were warm and sheltered, but as soon as we broke through the tree line, it was as if we had stepped into a blizzard.

Snow and ice blanketed the entire mountain. Katahdin’s rock scrambles are challenging on any day, but in these conditions, they felt even more intense—and thrilling. Tiny metal rungs embedded in the rock faces provided some support, but at one particularly tricky spot, I remember staring up at a reach that seemed impossible, thinking, How am I supposed to get up there?

Reaching the summit was deeply emotional, not just for my brother but for all the hikers completing their Appalachian Trail journeys. The atmosphere felt almost reverent, like being at a memorial. People shared stories, laughter, and tears, mourning the end of their adventure but celebrating their incredible accomplishments.

It was humbling to witness so many people achieving a life dream they had worked so hard for. The experience was profoundly inspiring and a reminder of the power of perseverance and community.