For years, I’d heard about the Superior Hiking Trail and finally decided it was time to experience it for myself. I had never been to Minnesota or seen a Great Lake, so it felt like the perfect opportunity for an adventure. As I began researching the trail, I quickly discovered that the SHT is supported by an incredible community—an unexpected bonus to hiking such a stunning and scenic route. Along the way, I had the chance to make some amazing new friends, which made the journey even more meaningful.
I’d like to thank my wife Lara for her support and encouragement throughout these FKT attempts. She not only helps me carve out the time I need to train, but also takes on the solo responsibility of caring for our two young daughters while I’m away. We’ve become a great team—balancing a busy family life with solo pursuits, and I couldn’t do this without her.
I’m also incredibly grateful to Alan Chapman—not just for setting an inspiring pace, but for taking the time to chat with me both before and after my attempt. If he hadn’t set such a fast pace, I wouldn’t have been pushed to challenge myself the way I did. His GPX tracks and trip reports were instrumental throughout my effort. In many ways, it felt like I had a trail partner alongside me the whole way. I hope to one day make it out to Minnesota so we can finally log some miles together in person.
Lastly, a big thank-you to JD Lehr and Madeline Gould (a previous unsupported FKT holder) for generously giving me rides to and from the trailheads. Your kindness and support made a real difference and helped bring this journey to life.
Getting There:
Getting to the Northern Terminus was an adventure in itself. I took a train to the Philly airport, flew from Philly to MSP, took a 2.5 hour shuttle to Duluth, took a 2.5 hour bus to Grand Marais and then got a ride to the remote trailhead from an amazing trail angel named JD Lehr. JD and I immediately started chatting all things backpacking, hiking, National Parks, outdoors. The hour drive went by in a flash and JD announced we had arrived. It was the perfect way to get into the necessary mindset and I was incredibly grateful to JD for offering the ride. I hopped out of JD’s jeep and instantly the mosquitos began to swam. I opened my pack and tried to find my sun hoody sprayed with Permethrin. They were landing on my arms, hands, face. I’ve backpacked all over the US and in every season but only one other time in Maine have I experienced mosquitos like this. We said our goodbyes and I was on my way (not before JD ran back with my phone that I almost left charging in his Jeep). As I hiked the 1.25 miles into camp, I put my headnet on. I thought, this is insane - how am I going to survive this for the next 5 days? What did I get myself into? I can’t hike with a headnet for 5 days straight. I’ll figure it out. Fortunately, the mosquitoes greatly subsided by the next day and I didn’t even wear the headnet again until one hour on the final night.
As always, I include the disclaimer that my trip reports are a flow of thoughts from my time out on the trail. I don’t go back and proofread. I change tense. I leave them raw as they come out. They’re mostly for me to refer back to when the memories fade.
Trip Report:
Day 1: June 11, 2025
Section: Northern Terminus (270° Overlook) → North Bally Creek Pond
Distance: 59.9 miles (watch miles)
Elevation Gain: 8,645 feet
My alarm went off at 5 a.m. at the Andy Creek campsite just as the sun was rising. I quickly packed up camp, took out my Day 1 gallon Ziploc of food, and started the 1.5-mile hike back to the road, then a 1-mile hike up to the 270 Degree Overlook. I arrived at 6:50 a.m., took a few pictures, admired the view for a minute or two, and then hit start on my watch at exactly 6:55 a.m. I couldn’t wait the extra 5 minutes to make it a round 7 a.m.
As I started hiking, I immediately noticed how diverse the trail is. One minute I’d be in a boreal forest, and the next it would feel like I was back in a deciduous forest near Philly. One thing I noticed was that the creeks and rivers were definitely bigger in Minnesota than Pennsylvania. Overall, it was quite an uneventful day with steady walking.
I did notice that my right knee was experiencing some mild pain. As I was ramping up my training, I developed an overuse injury in that same knee but couldn’t identify the My right knee has never bothered me, always my left. Oh well, nothing I can do about it. All I could tell is that I needed to pay attention to it and make sure to stretch.
I was impressed with how well the trail is maintained. I did reach one section where there were quite a few blowdowns—maybe for 3 miles. Just about when I was starting to become frustrated that it was slowing me down, I heard a chainsaw in the distance. I finally reached the team and thanked them for the hard work. The chainsaw operator said, “Hey, you’re Bob?!” I replied, “Yup,” and she said she thought she was going to run into me today. She wished me luck, and I headed on.
As I was getting some views of the lake I noticed it was quite hazy. Wildfire smoke had been blowing down from Canada for the past week. The forecast showed the AQI wasn’t that bad, but it seemed pretty smoky and I could detect a faint campfire odor. I was hoping it wouldn’t get worse. Probably not the best to breath in smoke particulate for 5 days straight while taking deep breaths. Fortunately I didn’t notice it for the rest of the FKT.
I was cruising along the trail and I wanted to try to run a bit, but it was difficult with my 24-pound pack (9 pounds gear, 15 pounds food). Mostly just fast walking. I eventually made it to the lake walk and enjoyed my first up-close views of a Great Lake. I touched the water to make it official.
I started to become a bit frustrated because the current FKT holder, Alan Chapman, had kept a much faster pace than I was currently on. I tried to walk faster, but the trail was very technical and I wasn’t able to maintain much of a flow. My pace was growing more distant from his.
Right as dusk was setting in, I passed a campsite and a woman shouted to me, “Are you Bob?” I walked over, and she introduced herself as Irina (or Irene?) from Germany. She said she was excited to meet me today but didn’t want to keep me. She’d been on trail for 8 days, and today was her last night in the woods. We chatted for a bit, and as I was leaving she said, “I think you should know—there’s someone a day ahead of you moving very fast. They came into camp last night very late and left well before sunrise. There’s someone else out there going for the record.” I laughed, thinking, drama on the trail! I thanked her for the info, wished her a great final night, and headed on.
I reached the overlook above Grand Marais, was walking through the parking lot, turned to the left, and the moon struck me—emotionally. It was a full moon directly over Lake Superior. I haven’t ever seen anything like it. I snapped a picture, sent it to my wife, and wrote, “THIS is why I do FKT’s.”
I finally arrived at camp just before 3:30 a.m., a full 2½ hours after Alan had arrived. I wasn’t too concerned because I knew he had stopped for 6 hours his first night. My body felt strong, and I wasn’t too tired, but I decided to lie down for an hour to rest.
I saw Alan’s GPS track had him heading down to the pond, and I assumed he grabbed water. Unfortunately, I couldn’t reach it without soaking my feet—not worth it. There was another tent set up at the site, and the other spots weren’t very flat. I wandered around for a minute or two and eventually gave up and decided to just pick a spot. I tossed down my bug bivy, crawled in, and set my alarm for 50 minutes—4:45 a.m. I immediately fell asleep, as I always do.
Day 2: June 12, 2025
Section: North Bally Creek Pond → South Cross River
Distance: 45.2 miles (watch miles)
Elevation Gain: 7,838 feet
Sleep (Previous Night): 50 minutes
Alarm went off at 4:45 a.m. I unzipped the bivy and quickly crawled out. I added some Leukotape to my feet where I noticed some blisters. Took out Day 2 gallon Ziploc food and added it to the vest pockets of my pack.
I headed down the trail and within a tenth of a mile I crossed a stream. Wish I knew that was there last night, oh well. Further down the trail I reached Pike Lake Road and my watch vibrated — I was off course. I had uploaded Alan’s Strava GPX tracks to my watch so I’d know if I deviated from the trail. It was immensely helpful and also kept me occupied by creating little stories in my head: “Oh, Alan stopped here for water. He went over there to read the kiosk. He didn’t check out that overlook. He took a nap at that campsite.” It made me feel like we were hiking the trail together.
I looked at the watch, weird, how’d I miss a turn? I looked at my phone and laughed. Alan had taken the same wrong turn down the Cascade River trail on his trek and warned me about it. Fortunately, I noticed about 1/10th of a mile in. I backtracked, headed over the bridge to the other side of the river, and watched a Bronco SUV race down the hill at me at what seemed 100 mph. I was on the bridge and the car was sliding sideways — I had no escape. Fortunately, he recovered as soon as he hit the pavement and gave me a bit of space. I’d learned that speed limits aren’t really a thing on these huge dirt roads.
Back into the woods and after only about a mile my watch vibrated again — how did I miss another turn? I was on a very clearly maintained trail and there were very clearly blue blazes. I looked at Gaia on my phone and I was very far from the trail. I announced some expletives and ran back as fast as I could to see where I missed the turn. Are side trails also marked in blue blazes? What is this trail? After backtracking 0.4 of a mile, I reached the intersection — it was a new reroute. They had thrown logs in front of the old trail and blazed the new trail so it was a seamless transition. That’s why I didn’t notice it. I then retraced my steps for 0.4 miles a third time down the trail, a bit annoyed at having wasted 15 minutes on this. I made a note to pay close attention in the future if my watch buzzed and I saw blue blazes.
I continued down the Cascade River, which was beautiful. Yet again though, I was well behind Alan’s pace. How did he walk so fast?! This trail was super technical — lots of roots and rocks. I’m used to that from hiking endless Pennsylvania trails, but he was able to maintain a very impressive pace. I just had to keep moving at my pace and sleep less. I knew that was my strategy now.
Many miles of uneventful but beautiful hiking. My right knee was still bothering me, but nothing that would slow me down or stop me. My left knee was also starting to ache. For many years I’ve experienced runner’s knee/patellar femoral disorder in this knee but it typically only bothers me when running or hiking up hills. Both knees were pretty achy, but I tried to push it down and keep moving. I was concerned they’d get worse, but nothing I could do about it. I typically don’t have knee pain this early in an FKT though.
I had posted on Facebook the previous week making people aware of my adventure. SO many people on the trail recognized me and said hi. I probably spent at least an hour, if not more, chatting with people throughout the entire trip. I’d absolutely lose that hour again. My favorite encounter was when a group passed and we just said “Hi.” Then, about 50 feet behind, I heard one shout “WE’RE ROOTING FOR YOU BOB!” and another hiker said “YOU’VE GOT THIS!” It made me smile and so happy.
The hike up from Temperance River to South Cross River was a bit rough and felt longer than it was. Arrived at camp around 10:40 p.m. It was a giant campsite with tons of flat areas. Threw down my bug bivy, pitched my tarp (only time on the trip) because I forgot to check the weather before I lost service. Set my alarm for 3 hours, 2 a.m. I was excited for my “sleep in” night. It was absolutely pitch black despite there being a full moon. Odd. Fell asleep immediately.
Day 3: June 13, 2025
Section: South Cross River → Raven Rock
Distance: 54.2 miles (watch miles)
Elevation Gain: 8,999 feet
Sleep (Previous Night): 3 hours
Alarm went off and again (Android Default Bright Morning) that sound haunts me), hopped up within 5 minutes or so. I typically snooze once, for 10 minutes, but both days I was up right away. Assessed my feet and did some more Leukotaping. I decided to pull the tape off the blister on my right big toe and in the process, ripped the skin open. Apparently it was a blood blister because blood began gushing through the tape. I put pressure on it to stop the bleeding and then re-taped with anti-stick gauze, moleskin, and more Leukotape. I should have taped it properly the first time, avoiding ripping the skin off.
The crease of my Topo MTN Racer 4’s was pressing that spot on both feet, causing irritation and these blood blisters. Whatever, they’re gonna be trashed by the end regardless. Threw on the pack and began to walk at 2:38 a.m. It was nice knowing that even though it was still so early (late?) I only had 2 hours until sunrise.
One of my ‘superpowers’ is that as soon as the sun rises, something in my brain will trigger and I’m no longer tired. I know if I can make it until I see that sun, my circadian rhythm will kick in.
Today was very diverse — forests, bogs, lots of amazing views of Superior. I loved walking through the birch forests. We don’t have many of those in Pennsylvania. I was chased by a grouse. I’m typically used to them just blasting out of the brush and flying away. I’ve never had them actually run at me. I wasn’t quite sure how to handle this situation. Kept the forward progress theme going.
Although I adore music (perhaps my first foray into “endurance records” was Phish concerts — I’m currently at 210), I can’t listen to music on FKTs. I can’t really explain why. That said, tunes often get stuck in my head. The theme of this FKT was Son of a Preacher Man by Dusty Springfield. That song was going on loop for 5 ½ days, especially the chorus.
I kept forward progress going and finally reached County Highway 7. I somehow mixed this up and thought it was County Road 6, so I actually was almost 8 miles behind where I thought I was. Finally passed CR 6 and hiked up to the plateau and descended just as the sun was setting. Back up for the final ascent before going back down to Tettegouche.
At this point, I was very tired and just wanted miles to be easy. Of course, I encountered the most blowdowns I had yet on the trail. Fortunately, it was only a 1-mile section, but it was slow going.
Reached Tettegouche and hustled up to the road. I was planning on camping at the same spot as Alan, but I was terribly thirsty so I pounded 2 liters of water at the spigot at the campground. The water was freezing and it was likely about 45 degrees. My body instantly became chilled from the inside — I’ve had this happen before.
I decided it wouldn’t be a smart idea to stop moving with this cold water in me, so I decided to push on to Raven Rock. Arrived at 1:15 a.m., I set up camp quickly, got into the bivy.
I had worn compression socks this day to try to prevent severe leg edema I’ve been experiencing on FKTs recently. I didn’t wear them on Day 1 or 2. I decided to take them off at night to give my legs and feet some time to breathe.
I pulled them off and lied down. Within a few seconds I felt very strange. Almost as if I was going to faint, even though I was already lying down. I needed to sip water — abnormal. I felt like something was very, very off, not good at all, nauseous, but was too tired to do anything and thought I’d just let it work itself out.
Did my blood pressure go whacky when I removed the socks after being on for almost 23 hours? Whatever, no time to troubleshoot this now. Fell asleep moments later in the pitch black. It struck me how dark these forests are.
Day 4: June 14, 2025
Section: Raven Rock → Silver Creek
Distance: 48.4 miles (watch miles)
Elevation Gain: 7,933 feet
Sleep (Previous Night): 2.5 hours
Alarm went off and I thought to myself “I’m alive, that’s a good sign”. Sat upright and felt “normal”. Guess whatever happened last night is over. Started hiking at 5 a.m. and the sun was just about up. Finally reached Bean and Bear Lake that I had been excited to see. It was a beautiful view in the morning light.
I reached Split Rock Lighthouse State Park where I encountered the one and only trail closure. I bypassed the east side of Split Rock River, down to the highway, up the west side of Split Rock River all the way to the bridge that’s out. I then backtracked 1.8 miles back to the SHT and started heading south again. Gotta cover every open mile of trail!
Each day, I had been taking a few minutes to read Alan’s trip reports. This time was immensely helpful because it set my expectations for the day. I knew that once I reached Gooseberry Falls State Park I’d hit some cruisy terrain. He was not wrong. This was sort of the first time I was able to actually run on the trail for consistent distances. It felt amazing.
This section went on for miles. Five? Lots of ferns in this area. It was quite beautiful and felt very remote. I was seeing people constantly up to this point, but didn’t encounter anyone in this section. I also realized that the knee pain I had experienced on Days 1–3 had basically disappeared. Always love when I somehow manage to heal on an FKT. On one of the boardwalks (loved them, so bouncy!) I ran into a porcupine. I followed him for almost a ¼ mile before he finally hopped off and headed into the woods.
I reached Castle Danger just before sunset (LOVE that name) and stumbled on the biggest pile of bear poop I have ever seen. I was about to pop in my headphones to listen to a podcast, but decided against that to have my senses fully aware. I’m glad I didn’t because a few hours later in the darkness I heard something. I stopped to listen, and I could hear wolves howling back and forth. It made the hairs stand up on the back of my neck and I just smiled with joy. I thought, again, THIS is why I do FKTs.
I stood there for a minute or two listening, but eventually moved on. Hours walking in the dark that I can’t really remember because I turned my brain off. I reached Silver Creek at 12:45 a.m. Found a perfect spot to lie down and was setting my alarm by 1 a.m.
Day “5”: June 15–16, 2025
Section: Silver Creek → Southern Terminus
Distance: 103 miles (watch miles)
Elevation Gain: 13,222 feet
Sleep (Previous Night): 2.5 hours
Notes: Just shy of 39 hours of continuous movement. Took one 10-minute break to lie face down in the dirt and another 10-minute break to pop a blister and tape my feet.
Alarm went off, I looked around and as always, it was pure blackness. I was a bit confused, where was I again? Oh yeah, FKT’ing. Is this my final day? On the trail by 4am. When Alan attempted his FKT this section of trail was closed, so he had to backtrack to the road. It’s now open, so I hiked up the creek to the road.
I reached some snowmobile trails and was not excited to get my feet soaked. I was experiencing some pretty severe blisters all over and skin was being ripped off. I also had exposed wounds.
One thing I’m consistent with during FKT’s is the never ending math I’m doing in my head. How long until I reach that road? That river? Multiplying by 3, adding by 18. How many vertical feet? I intentionally don’t use the calculator on my phone in order to keep my brain occupied.
When I started walking at 4am I was 2 hours and 50 minutes ahead of Alan. He had been at least 2 minutes/mile faster than me every single day. After a lengthy math session, I came to the conclusion that if I wanted to beat the record, I wouldn’t have time to stop to sleep. I would need to move for the next 39 hours straight, relentless forward motion. If I need to stop, I would allow myself 10 minutes, on the dirt. No setting up, no packing up, no luxury of a pad. Face. On. Dirt. I accepted this as my future and was okay with it. That set my expectations. I’m able to compartmentalize very well and I don’t think of it as 39 hours. I think of it as 9 miles/3 hours to the next road, the next river, the next ascent. I wanted the record that bad.
At the same time, as I thought about the record, I felt guilty about taking it from Alan. He’d worked so hard for this, he deserved it. Do I deserve it just because I slept less but he moved faster? Am I getting emotional because I haven’t really slept? I dunno.
This day is kind of a blur to be honest. It seems like it almost didn’t exist, it’s a lost day, in between two sleeps but missing one. Looking back, I took very few pictures on this day. I barely texted my wife. I was conserving power so I wasn’t listening to podcasts. What did I do for 12 hours?
This section felt INCREDIBLY remote. This section needs a name, like Heart of Darkness on the Benton MacKaye Trail. I didn’t know where I was on the map because I had turned my phone off. I felt like I was looking at it too much, constantly checking to see where I was and how much further to this point or that point so I said you know what? You’re losing phone privileges and turned the entire thing off. I’m not quite sure how long it was for, but many hours.
I had read in Alan’s trip report that the SHT followed many snowmobile trails in this section and I was really looking forward to them. I finally reached them and a great sense of relief overwhelmed me. I was able to run at a very decent pace and made great progress.
This was the only section I actually wore my headnet besides camp before the first day. There were some kind of small gnats in the tall grass of the trail. They didn’t really bother me, but the risk of them biting me and possibly causing a rash wasn’t worth it.
I finally reached Lismore Road and came across the best mailbox I have ever seen. It’s the hand and arm of a monster gently holding the mailbox. Made the turn onto the private road and encountered the most terrifying barking dog obviously off its leash. I think I read somewhere that the dog isn’t mean, just a loud bark, so I just talked to it calmly and ducked back into the woods.
I passed the snowmobile shelter Alan had stayed at, took a picture and admired how comfy it looked. I arrived right around 9:30pm. Alan left here at 11pm. I started 50 minutes after Alan. I was 2 ½ hours ahead of Alan. I didn’t even think about stopping to sleep, that wasn’t part of the plan and expectations I had set. Forward.
I lolligagged around Lester River, filled my water twice, then headed back down the trail. From here to Duluth it’s mostly snowmobile trails with tall grass but easy walking. It was fun to walk through this section in the darkness. Not many people experience this.
Onto the roads into neighborhoods where my sleep deprivation and minor hallucinations began to kick in. I was convinced that on every porch, people were standing, watching me. I tried to ignore them and just kept walking. I reached Hartley Park and headed up the mountain.
It was 2am and I was starting to kick every rock, every root. I was bobbing and weaving all over the trail. I knew I needed to stop. I reached a flat spot at a trail intersection, threw down my poles, lied down on the dirt with my pack still on and set my alarm for 10 minutes.
I closed my eyes and immediately fell asleep. All of a sudden I woke up in agony - my hips were burning. This is super common for me, but I usually just fall back asleep. Only problem is that I looked at my phone and realized that I had 4 minutes left on my alarm. I had slept for 6 minutes.
I lied there for the next 4 minutes, alarm went off, I got up and continued to walk. I miraculously felt quite refreshed. It’s so mind blowing how closing your eyes for just 5 minutes will reset your brain.
The only problem to troubleshoot now were my feet. I had blisters everywhere but I was reluctant to stop and waste time mending them. Is it even going to do anything at this point?
After about two miles I gave in, took off my pack, sat down, took off both shoes and socks and decided to do a full foot treatment. I had sort of accepted that I wasn’t going to get the FKT because I was moving so slow, so I thought at least I wouldn’t suffer.
I pulled off most of the existing Leuko tape, popped a GIANT blister on the outside of my left heel, re-taped everything, slathered liberally with Squirrels nut butter and put on my compression socks. It took about 15 minutes altogether and it made a world of difference. I felt like a new human.
I walked out of the park and into what appeared to be a business park with lots of construction equipment. A cop parked directly in front of me. I shine my super bright headlamp directly on their car because I forget it’s night and I’m even wearing a headlamp. Nope….need to avoid confrontation. I decided to head the opposite direction because I’m not capable of having any type of conversation right now. About a ½ mile away I see a guy messing around with a huge bulldozer type machine. I’m like, is that real? Is he a worker? It’s 3am. Why would he be out here at this time?
All of a sudden he sees me, hops onto an electric unicycle and speeds off. I’m baffled but don’t have time to process it, so I keep moving.
Down into Duluth where I’m familiar with the trail as I walked it a few days prior on my way through town. I reached Canal Park beach around 4:30am and there’s a bonfire on the beach with some kids partying. They just kinda look at me as I hobble/run/shuffle down the path.
I made my way around the canal and then up into the hills of West Duluth. I was feeling surprisingly good at this point and doing more math, if I could maintain a 22 minute per mile pace I may still be able to take the FKT. I exited the math zone in my brain and sucked back to reaility - I began walking through a delightful, calm,l little Japanese garden. I waved good morning to a man sitting on a bench. I walked a bit further through the garden, about to pass a pagoda when all of a sudden “GONNNNGGGGGGG!!!!” The man on the bench walked over to a gong and slammed it just about as hard as he could. That was very unexpected and jarring. At least it got the adrenaline flowing. Lots of flowy trails, going up and down the ridgeline over the city. They were heavily used, so easy to follow, but lots of intersecting trails which made it slightly confusing.
From reading Alan’s trip report, I knew just needed to get past Elys Peak and it would be cruisy from there. A strong memory of this section was that there was a very powerful floral smell along the trails above Duluth and West Duluth. I’m not sure what it was, but I believe there was a tree that was flowering. It almost smelled fake, sorta like a grandma’s house or perfume. Whenever I’m experiencing sleep deprivation, smells become very distinct. I wasn’t certain this was a “real” scent or if my brain was making it up. I wish I could Google smells, because I really want to know what it was.
I’m also experiencing very, very painful chafing “below the waist” in this section. It’s the first warm day and I’m pretty much soaked from the waist down. I’ve been diligent about applying Squirrels Nut Butter but the constant walking for 5 days straight has finally caught up. I keep trying different tactics to minimize the pain. Finally I take off my boxer briefs and running shorts and wear only my jogging pants. This seems to help a bit. Walking is tough enough at this point, chaffing is making it unbearable.
After a bit of confusion around a re-route at Spirit Mountain, I finally reached Elys and descended. As was promised, the terrain was super cruisy and I was able to run quite a bit on the Grand Portage trail.
I took out my phone to check the weather - a GIANT thunderstorm was bearing down on me. The first and only rain of the trip. I need to get moving. This is where things started to become very strange.
I was having almost an out of body experience, feeling euphoria. I’m not really sure what was going on, or what was happening, but I was feeling so incredibly good mentally and physically. I was able to move faster than the previous 250 miles and it was just flowing. I kept having this emotion that I was hiking with someone, and expected them to be there, but then I’d realize no one was with me. It took me a while to remember what State I was in. I was seeing all sorts of hallucinations on the trail. Baby doll heads, superhero villains in trees, cabins in the woods, troll faces in stumps. Lots and lots of faces, everywhere. In the dirt, leaves, branches - Everything was looking at me. I eventually had to just ignore all of the people standing out in the forest and pretend like they weren’t there because it was too distracting. I cannot even recall the hallucinations I had because they were many and constant. I’ve never had them so severe in all of my FKT’s. I’d have these moments of clarity, and then severe moments of disconnection. What was I doing again? My short term memory was non-existent. I couldn’t rely on it for anything so I would dictate emails to myself. I took a picture of myself to make sure I still looked normal. I did?
I cruised down the Grand Portage trail and over the swinging bridge. A trail runner ran in front of me and was bouncing along the bridge. I hate heights. This was not awesome. It felt so unstable. I was barely hanging on for dear life as my sleep deprived brain tried to balance. I needed to get off this bridge. Two woman were taking pictures halfway across. I scooted past, sorta pushing them because I couldn’t be near the edge. I got to the other side and breathed a sigh of relief. Super easy trail for the next few miles. It was a dream. I was fully conscious in this section, I knew I had the FKT at this point. I saw a cabin over in the woods. Cool cabin! Nope, that’s not really there, I knew. I decided to brush my tooth to keep my brain occupied and do something “normal”. I crossed a bridge. This looks like the same bridge I’ve already cross 30 times. Am I just going back and forth over the same bridge over and over?!
I finally reached Route 23, ran down the highway to the dirt road, ran up the hill and back into the woods for the final 1.8 miles. I ran as best I could, which felt like a 7 minute/mile pace but was closer to 18.
The distance ticked down, I was getting closer, I finally rounded the corner and saw the sign for the Southern Terminus. I tapped the sign, stopped my watch and it was over.
Post-FKT:
I walked over to the register and took it out to write a quick entry. The second I opened it up a drop of rain fell onto the page. Then another. I quickly wrote an incoherent entry about what I had just accomplished, signed my trail name ‘Just Bob’ and put the register away so it wouldn’t get wet.
As I was hiking out, the sky opened and boomed. It was terrifying but also not scary at all. I was invincible at this point. I’d been immersed in the woods in such a raw form for the past 5 days 12 hours.
I got soaked as I hiked out. Right before I got out of the woods I saw a giant, life size mylar balloon in the form of a great white shark just floating in the forest. As I got closer, I accepted that it was actually ferns, a log and a branch, but it seemed so real at the moment.
A previous FKT holder Madeline Gould offered to pick me up and drive me back to Duluth. I popped out of the woods and saw Madeline standing there.
I said, “Hi Madeline!”
She replied, “It’s Ilana.”
I think, Ilana is a weird nickname for Madeline, but whatever. Maybe I misheard? Explaining thoughts is a challenge at this point so I just move on.
I say, “Did you know there was a life size mylar balloon great white shark in there?” pointing to the forest.
She looked at me with a blank stare. “Huh?”
I said, “Nevermind. Do you happen to have any water?”
“Uhhh, I have, I’ve been drinking out of this Nalgene. You can have some.”
“No, I’ll be fine.”
“I have pop chips?”
“Nah, that’s okay. So, you had the previous FKT?”
“Uh, no…”
“Oh, I’m confused, I must have messaged the wrong person on Facebook.”
“No, you messaged me.”
“Oh, okay.”
“Anyway, thanks for the ride, should we head out?”
“Uhhh, you need a ride somewhere? I guess I could take you.”
All of a sudden my brain is trying to figure out what’s going on.
“Are you Madeline Gould?”
She says, “No, that’s not me. You messaged me your Garmin tracker, and I saw it stop, so I came out to make sure you were okay.”
I start laughing. I just had a 10 minute conversation with a person who I thought was someone else.
All of a sudden Madeline pulls up and hops out. I try to explain the story to her, but it makes zero sense in my absolute sleep deprivation. I continue to lose my train of thought, stopping mid sentence and just standing in silence.
Finally I accept it - Okay, I think it’s time to head out.
I thank them both, hop into Madeline’s truck and am off to my hotel to crash.
Checking into a hotel post-FKT is always a challenge, but I manage. Hobble up to my room, pack explosion on the floor.
I wake up to banging on the door - I’m passed out on the bed. I open the door and on the hallway floor is two large pizzas, a dozen wings and a 2 liter Coke Zero. My amazing wife Lara ordered for me and had delivered to my room.
I eat the pizza lying in bed, half awake and eventually pass out again, mid bite.