What Do You Do AFTER You Accomplish a Big Dream? a Mount Katahdin photo gallery
Mount Katahdin is located at Baxter State Park somewhere in the interior wilderness of Maine. Standing at 5,268 feet with multiple peaks and a few serious trails to the summit, one thing’s for sure — they don’t call it the biggest mountain in Maine for nothin’. After years of dreaming and months of planning, I recently reached the summit at Baxter Peak via the Abol Trail with a friend and learned a thing or two about what NOT to do after you accomplish a big dream.
Here’s our story and photo gallery.
You start losing cell signal long before you're in the gate.
But you couldn't care less.
You're here.
Finally, beautifully here.
You've been wanting this for so long, there's nowhere else you'd rather be.
You feel a little unsettled as you read all the warning signs along the way.
No water.
No electricity.
No services.
Bring in everything you need and pack it all out.
You get a little shaky when the Park official cautions you about the trail.
And the bears.
And the out-of-nowhere afternoon thunderstorms.
That sore knee and hip of yours give a twinge of pain at the thought of steep boulder scrambles in the pouring rain.
But you're here now.
Somehow you know you'll be just fine.
You tell yourself you're just here to enjoy the mountain.
To try to climb her if you can.
You might reach your turnaround time too late and have to go down before summiting.
That’s fine, you say.
You can try again next year.
But deep down you know you're going for the top.
You find the campsite you booked months ago and pitch your tent.
Lay out your supplies.
Get your hiking clothes ready.
Then you find yourself dirty and sweaty with no shower in sight.
So you head over to Daicey Pond and hike down to Little and Big Niagara.
Wading in, the stream washes your jitters away.
Sitting beneath the falls, laughter replaces your doubts.
Dinner on the camp stove.
Stories around the fire.
Then to sleep early.
You know it's gonna be a long day tomorrow.
You sleep as well as you can in a tent.
Up at 5.
Camp coffee.
Avacado toast.
Three liters of water in your pack.
Sign in at the Ranger station and then, you're off.
The start of the trail has an incline — a lot of incline.
But you're enjoying the walk under the thick canopy of trees.
Chatting with other hikers along the way.
Stopping to take in the view.
And plenty of water, so much water.
Your ears start to clog and pop.
Your legs turn to jelly.
Your lungs bursting.
Then you reach the top of the tree line and see the boulders.
The climbing begins.
You scramble, boulder-hop, shuffle, dig in.
Your hands are starting to get sore.
You need a break, so you turn around to take a seat on a rock and see the view.
It takes your breath away.
This is what you came for.
The boulders take a while.
You keep on climbing.
Looking down although you know you shouldn't.
Knees scraping, hands growing weak.
Until you're not sure the piles of rocks will ever end.
Then suddenly, they do.
"Almost there!" you text your family with the hint of a cell signal that came with the elevation.
But you’re not almost there.
Not even close.
The fog grows thick and heavy.
The stunning view fades.
The wind so loud you can’t hear yourself think.
And you keep walking.
Rock-hopping.
Trudging forward until you think your legs might just melt.
The temperature drops drastically.
You put on one dry layer of clothes and then another.
And just when you think the trail might never end,
Just when you truly believe this whole thing is a hoax and you'll never ever see the top,
You see a crowd of hikers huddled around a big pile of rocks and a summit sign.
You're here.
You’ve made it.
You’ve reached the top and it feels good.
Really, really good.
Now you're in the after.
The descent.
The truly mandatory part of the whole thing.
And you might just get to learn a thing or two on the way down.
Something about your body, your self, maybe even your soul.
I did.
Here’s what I learned coming down from the top of Mount Katahdin. . .
What does your soul naturally move towards after you reach the top?
What do you do when you accomplish a big dream or a big goal?
When you've started the business, hit your first $100K+ year, published the book, landed the deal — when you’ve finally made it?
When you’ve reached the top and it’s time to see what comes next?
Do you celebrate?
Relish it?
Take a moment to appreciate yourself?
Think back on all the hard work that got you here?
Or do you start planning the next one without even skipping a beat?
Me?
I surprised myself.
After climbing to the top of the tallest mountain in Maine via one of the steepest, most challenging trails and descending injury-free (go, ski bum knee, go!) I was surprised to hear my loud mouth say a few things I wish I hadn't said.
Immediately - before we were even off the trail - I was putting myself down for not being able to catch my breath at the start of the trail, descending so slow my friend had to keep stopping to make sure I wasn't dead or dying, and not being able to keep up with the hoards of people who passed me along the way to the top.
I was also planning our next trip and all the ways I could train between now and then to get faster. Then, every time someone asked about our trip, I started in with my self-focused tirade again and again.
I barely celebrated my win at all.
And then it hit me — I do this all the time.
You too?
Of course you do. Because somewhere along the way, we learned all about improving ourselves, pursuing big dreams, and setting big goals — and almost nothing about what to do when we actually accomplish something.
Can I offer one little thought for us?
Something I'm teaching myself this week after that big mistake?
We have to start celebrating our accomplishments.
Even the little ones.
Especially the little ones.
And most certainly the 5,000+ foot mountain kind.
If we don't, there's absolutely no way we're going to make it into old age as our best selves.
Absolutely no way our partners, kiddos, friends, and neighbors are going to be able to make it either.
But if we can do this.
If we can make this one little shift.
We might just change everything.
We might just find that long-lost love named contentment knocking down our doors.
What have you been working towards recently that deserves a little celebration?
Write it down.
Buy some cake.
Do a fist pump or two.
Celebrate how far you've come.
Relish for a while.
Be proud of yourself.
Even if it feels foreign.
Even if, for some reason, it brings a little fear or pain.
Then, yes, plan that next big thing.
Work on getting better and better.
Absolutely.
But only as long as you keep celebrating.
And if you have a photo or two of you accomplishing a big goal (or making progress) you'd like to share, come over to the email group and send them my way.
I'll gladly buy some cake and celebrate with you.
💛
Want more to help you go after your big dreams?
& I have fun like this on the regular every Friday morning in the email group.