Introduction________The Appalachian Trail________North Carolina
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Hiking the Appalachian Trail – 2001
Tuesday, April 03, 2001
Amicalola Falls – Springer Mountain Shelter
Today’s Miles: 9.0
Trip Miles: 9.0
I’m here!! It rained all day with thunderstorms earlier on. It’s supposed to keep raining too. That matters not! Rain, I fart in your general direction! It’s just great to be out here, 3,700 feet above sea level. I’ve been like a thirteen-year-old in a strip bar all day.
The archway where the Approach Trail begins was simply awesome, giving the distance to Katahdin and all. My pack weighed 37 pounds at the scales they have there; with four days of food and two liters of water. I’m really happy about that. I was thinking that my pack would weigh more. The climb up Springer wasn’t as difficult as I thought it would be. It was mainly switchbacks, and there were plenty of level areas in between to catch your breath. The trail most of the way up was a river of mud from the downpours. I had fun.
The Amicalola waterfall was beautiful. It’s apparently the highest east of the Mississippi. Now I’ve never been very religious, as far as going to church is concerned, but I must admit that I did say a little prayer for my journey on the way up. It’s a good thing to do.
I reached the summit of Springer after only a few hours of giddily plodding through the rain and mud. I took a few moments for myself there, had the necessary photo taken, and continued on my way to this shelter. The view from the summit was non-existent because of the weather. It seems that I’m up in a foggy raincloud, doing the old Misty Mountain Hop. I forgot to pick up a rock from the peak to carry to Katahdin. I’ll have to go back tomorrow to get one.
I’ve already met a bunch of nice people, even though this shelter is actually quite empty… I guess because USFS 42 wasn’t passable today. Tonight I’ll be sleeping next to a cool guy from Holland. He’s been hiking all over the world, including Nepal, China, Mongolia, Russia, and on and on. It’s his first time in America. He brought a hot dog from New York City to have for dinner! There’s also another very nice guy here from Denver, Colorado. His trail name is Green Sailor. He tried a thru-hike a few years ago but was too unprepared. I met him coming up the approach trail, and we got to talking a bit. Things do indeed seem to go much easier when there’s good company.
There are two huge garbage bags hanging here, filled to the brim with all kinds of extra food that a boy scout troop just ditched here; Lipton’s, candy bars, and all kinds of good stuff. Nobody’s really taking it. We have enough food and the “hunger” hasn’t set in at all yet. Two girls that are tented out nearby just came in to cook and hang their food. There’s only us three guys staying in the shelter tonight, on a rainy day in early April! I ought to socialize a bit now. I’m never going to remember people’s names.
So today I came, I saw, and I conquered Springer Mountain. I ought to climb another mountain…
and another,
and another,
and another…
I know what I’m getting myself into… really… I do…
Amicalola Falls, from the top
the beginning, officially. Springer Mountain.
Wednesday, April 04, 2001
Springer Mountain Shelter-Justus Creek
Today’s Miles: 13.4
Trip Miles: 22.4
I was the first one awake at the shelter this morning. I quietly ate my breakfast in the silent, half-lit shelter, looking out toward the trail. The sky actually looked promising. It was as good of a morning as they come, and I got packed up and going rather early. Green Sailor and I headed back to the Springer summit. I picked up a stone to take to Katahdin, and we both checked out the amazing view. Then we separately went on our ways.
The trail between Springer and Hawk Mountain was absolutely gorgeous. The whole floor of the forest is golden from last autumn’s leaves. The way little drops of water from last night’s rain clung to the smallest twigs couldn’t help but be noticed, if you looked. Sections of pine forest left the trail laden with soft, dead needles. There was a small section of first growth “cathedral hemlocks”, trees that were too remote to be logged and tower to the sky. That was only the first half of the way to Hawk Mountain. I found myself in a cloud of mist, through some of the most silent forest I’ve ever encountered. You could have heard a pin drop as I meandered through. In several places there are small creeks, with logs thrown across them for you to do a balancing act on. How cool is that! For most of the past two days, I’ve been finding myself smiling like a madman and even laughing out loud at how great this life is.
The climbs up Sassafrass and Justus Mountains today left me royally whipped, reminding me how hard this trail can be. I’m glad it’s been dry today. The damage report so far is that my heels rapidly lost some skin yesterday. They didn’t even have a chance to blister, and are nearly bloody. This shouldn’t be too much of an issue, as I slapped some moleskin on them and secured it with duct tape, and managed okay today. I may have to take an early zero day, which I wasn’t planning on. Spirits are high.
There are number of other hikers in this cool area tonight, including Green Sailor and the guy from Holland. I’m too tired to socialize. That Sassafrass/Justus one-two punch did me in. Goodnight from my tent at Justus Creek.
sunrise
the view from Springer Mountain
Thursday, April 05, 2001
Justus Creek-Woods Hole Shelter
Today’s Miles: 13.0
Trip Miles: 35.4
Broke camp in a bit of rain this morning. I hiked through a cloud of fog all day. Most of the time I could barely see more than twenty yards in any direction. It could get pretty eerie at times, reminding me of the woods in Monty Python and the Holy Grail (Why do I keep referring to this movie?) with the knights that say “Nee!”. I’m sure that the mist cheated me from some spectacular views along the way, particularly from Big Cedar Mountain. You’re supposed to be able to see as far as Atlanta from there on a good day. The road crossing at Woody Gap was somewhat treacherous, because I couldn’t see the cars coming in either direction. The other hikers here are joking about how they ran across the road.
The shelter here is very nice. Too bad it was full by the time I came rolling in! There are four of us tented out here, yet again including Green Sailor and the guy from Holland (His name is pronounced Rowloosh, who knows how the heck you spell it!). I need a trail name! I may just have to give myself one in another week or so. The privy here is interesting. It doesn’t have a door! That way, you have a fine view of the forest while you do your business.
I’m beginning to understand why so many people leave the trail at Neel’s Gap. The hike today was incredibly strenuous. I’m already beginning to get the food cravings too. All of my gear is damp and muddy. My feet are really ugly. Both my knees are beginning to hurt. I think I’m just pushing myself too hard. I’m planning a nice easy day tomorrow over Blood Mountain, the highest point on the AT in Georgia, and into Goose Creek Cabins to dry out and for some rest and relaxation.
Friday, April 06, 2001
Woods Hole Shelter-Goose Creek Cabins
Today’s Miles: 3.9
Trip Miles: 39.3
All the other hikers were out of Woods Hole earlier than me today. I spent some time bumming aound there alone, because I knew I had a short day today. I think it was almost eleven by the time I got going. Everything is still foggy.
Every step going up and down Blood Mountain was very slow-going for me. I didn’t feel good at all. The mountain is named after a supposed battle 400 years ago between Creek and Cherokee Indians that made the hills run red with blood. I also passed by “Slaughter Gap” and “Slaughter Creek”. I imagined arrows and tomahawks flying at me, and suddenly my knees and feet didn’t feel so bad.
The two girls from Virginia that I had been seeing since my first day were at the top chatting with a very nice middle-aged couple. The couple was saying that their “college-aged” daughter was probably having a party. She always does when they go away. Sounds familiar! The shelter there was stone and very cool looking, not that I’d want to stay there. The thick mist again obliterated another awesome view, from 4,500 feet above sea level.
I passed tons of day and section hikers going southbound, as I hobbled down to Neel’s Gap, remembering that today is a Friday. The descent seemed to take forever, but it was nice to gradually come out of the fog to an elevation where spring is more evident. Soon, I began to hear the sound of traffic, and at long last I came upon a paved road and the Walase-Yi Center! Aaaaahhhhhh!!!
The place was bustling with activity. A number of hikers that I hadn’t met and Georgia yuppies were milling about everywhere. I browsed for a second, grabbed two cans of Coke (MMMMM…I LLOOVVEE Coke!), some frozen pizza (mmm), and called up Goose Creek Cabins to take me in. The shuttle driver loaded me up and a few other dirty, smelly hikers and our packs, and off we went rolling down the mountainside. The sensation of being in an automobile was quite different already.
Once I was checked in, even before indulging in the Coke and pizza, I had to get my boots and socks and moleskin off. I slowly, painstakingly removed my socks and the layer of dry mud with them, and finally the duct tape from around my heel and ankle.
Oh, my!
This was much worse than I thought.
I was even hoping that my heels had healed a bit. How stupid. They were an open, raw, bloody, oozing mess. And the duct tape, oh … my skin had not taken well to the duct tape. There’s a red, bruised stripe where the tape had been, and the edges had dug in and opened up a few more tiny wounds. I’m undecided whether to let this heal with Neosporin on my own or to get a ride to the clinic in town. Either way, it doesn’t look like I’m hiking anywhere tomorrow or even the day after, with this and my soon to be shot out knees. Rats.
on Blood Mountain
Saturday, April 07, 2001
Goose Creek Cabins
Today’s Miles: 0
Trip Miles: 39.3
I did absolutely nothing today, thought I’d just let the feet heal up. The couple from Boston and Dean headed out in the morning. I wish I could have gone too. I originally didn’t even plan on spending one night here, let alone a few days! Ugh. Don’t get me wrong, this is a wonderful place to stay and I definitely recommend it as a first stop. It’s just that I’d rather be hiking. Everybody that I started with is moving on, and the weather cleared up too.
I didn’t leave the cabin at all. It’s best not to mess with socks and shoes. All my gear is dried out, and I made the phone calls home. My parents were glad to hear that nobody has made me squeal like a pig. I ended up turning on the TV, and before I knew it Julia and I had sat through the second half of Wag the Dog, followed by Primary Colors, then The American President. TNT must have had some sort of themed weekend or something, and of course they HAD to show commercials for the Springsteen concert special that was on TV tonight. AARRRGH!!! If this place only had HBO! These Georgia mountains would have gotten the biggest, loudest, rockin’ and a rollin’ that they’ve ever seen!
Everybody’s telling me that it’s best to take the time off early on to recover. I’m sure they’re right, but it’s already so frustrating to be stuck in one place. I just keep staring blankly at the horizon, shaking my head, looking down, and saying “stupid feet”. I may be dumbfoundedly here for a few days.
At least I’ll have good company while I’m here. I just can’t get over all of the fantastic people I’m meeting already out here. I’m staying tonight with Tighe and Carrie, a great young couple from Boston that were here last night too. Tighe’s a huge baseball fan (Red Sox!). There’s also Julia, a nice bicycle mechanic from Portland, Oregon. (Anybody who’s job has to do with bicycles is cool!) She gave me some Neosporin for my feet. Thank-you! The last guy here tonight is Dean, again, terribly friendly. He’s lived all around the east. He had the biggest smile on his face when he came out of the shower. “That was the best shower of my life!” I hear ya Dean. I’m beginning to think that everything on this trip is the best of my life.
Although, you should have seen the twisted grimaces on their faces when they saw my feet. I don’t mind. I had Coke and pizza, and now I’m showering.
view from Wolf Creek at Goose Creek Cabins
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Sunday, April 08, 2001
Goose Creek Cabins
Today’s Miles: 0
Trip Miles: 39.3
A great girl named Kristy has been stuck here for nearly a week because she blew out her knees. She was once an EMT back home, and she took a look at my feet today.
“Ooh…those are infected,” she said. Great. That’s the last thing I wanted to hear. “You’ll be here at least through Tuesday”. Lovely!
She cleaned them up a little right away for me, and then JM drove us into town and I picked up a handful of first aid stuff and other goodies. He’s been sidelined here for a little while too, and is working-for-stay by driving the shuttle and running errands. He says I’ll get his job when he gets back on the trail tomorrow. Ha! And for todays big news – he and Randy gave me my trailname! From this day forward, I shall be known as “Duct Tape” on the Appalachian Trail. I think it may just fit. They surely think so.
I met yet another hip person (Will it ever stop?) that I’ll be rooming with tonight named Randy. I felt an instant friendship with him, probably more so than anybody else I’ve met so far. We talked about a lot of things throughout the day, from simply tinkering with the gear in our packs, to all of our hopes about the days ahead – like walking into the late summer evenings where the shadows are long and fireflies fill the twilight. It will be sad when he moves ahead tomorrow.
We all went to dinner at an AYCE (ALL YOU CAN EAT) buffet in town called The Cookie Jar. I had three full plates of fried chicken, turkey, ham, green beans, carrots, mashed potatoes, biscuits…MMM. You’ve gotta love it. We spent some time at the lodge at the end of the day, just kicking back and relaxing. At one point, JM just started laughing out of nowhere. I turned to him as to inquire about what, and he said “Life. I feel closer to it here already than I ever have anyplace else.”
“That’s the idea,” I said.
“I think you’re right,” he said, “That must be the idea”.
We smiled. That just about says it all, folks.
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Monday, April 09, 2001
Goose Creek Cabins
Today’s Miles: 0
Trip Miles: 39
I’ve now officially spent more nights here than I have on the trail so far. That’s just wrong. Oh well, there isn’t much I can do about it.
This place has wooden screen doors. That alone makes all this worth it. Do you know the ones that I’m talking about? They creak ever so slightly when you open them, and slam with a heart wrenching “thwack” when you let go. The wooden screen door is the very essence of a place like this. It lets you into the lodge, where you’re greeted by the friendliest, most down to earth people you’ll ever meet, a stuffed lion, moose heads on the wall, a crackling fireplace, a piano, and so much more. It lets you out to the long, wooden front porch where the fresh mountain air slaps you right in the face. There you can have a seat on the idle rocking chair or porch swing and marvel forever at the stack of firewood, a pond and geese, an American flag waving and dancing in the breeze, clear blue skies against a mountainous wilderness, and men coming and going in pickup trucks with stars and bars bandannas, talking of leisure, fishing, and usually nothing at all. And the wooden screen door always slams behind them.
There is a register book from this and last year, signed by many eager thru-hikers that have passed through. I recognize a number of names in it, although they may not recognize mine. I’m constantly swept up in the grand history behind what I experience on this trail. The history of the people of last week, last month, last year, and the last fifty years. The trees and rocks and dirt may whisper their stories to you. Their stories of hope, anguish, exhilaration, pain, and triumph. Or a tree may appear to you as purely just another tree, just as rewarding. What draws people back to this trail, I think, is that it’s such an intense microcosm of all those good things in life. It’s the ability to experience those things deeply, without the hastles, ties, deadlines, and stresses of life in the real world. But what brings people to the trail in the first place? Maybe it’s the occasional wooden screen door and porch swing.
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Tuesday, April 10, 2001
Goose Creek Cabins
Today’s Miles: 0
Trip Miles: 39
I don’t think I’ve ever spent so much time on a porch swing. It’s another fantastic, warm, serene day here in Georgia. There’s nothing like sitting here all afternoon, exchanging pleasantries with everybody that comes by. I’m asking them if anybody knows how to play the piano inside, so they could play Pachelbel’s “Canon in D” for me, but not having any luck. I’m so yearning to be back on the trail, but if I could pick a different place for these unfortunate circumstances to befall me, I wouldn’t. It’s given me another opportunity, early on, to slow down and re-evaluate my perspective of this journey, while in the thick of it and away from the ties of home. Things like this tend to happen for a reason out here, like how Kristy found a pair of perfect flip-flops in the hiker box, just when I needed camp shoes to help my feet heal. They call it Trail Magic. I do hope tomorrow is not too soon to continue on my way.
There’s a lone girl here about only seven years old, shooting hoops in a sundress, barefoot. She reminds me of my third (I think) journal entry. It seems that we dream of doing grown-up things when we’re little kids, and when we’re grown-ups, we dream of doing little kid things. There must be a moral to that somewhere, but I’ll leave the idea open. I just know that doing the trail is one of those magical, fine lines between the two – a child’s type of adventure in a grown-up world.
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Wednesday, April 11, 2001
Goose Creek Cabins
Today’s Miles: 0
Trip Miles: 39.3
The way we so easily forget the little, pleasurable things in our memory can be scary. Mt friend Eric with whom I grew up – we used to walk to this place called the South Mall all the time. Like clockwork, we’d walk down 33rd St., maybe cut through somebody’s lawn, get pizza at Dino’s, browse all the stores, hang around the arcade, give the store managers headaches, and lounge around in the office chairs at Staples after the mall was closed. After Staples closed, sometimes we’d walk all the way to a place called the Superior Diner, checking out the cars at the auto dealers along the way, and there we’d get cups of coffee (coffee’s a big deal when you’re a young teenager). Sometimes on the way home, we’d stop behind our old elementary school and sneak a few cigarettes (a much bigger deal), and talk about what we thought life would be like once we got to high school.
Anyway, 33rd St. is lined with lamp posts. As we’d stroll along, a funny thing used to happen. Some of the streetlights would go out as I got close to them, and they’d light back up after we’d continue farther on down the road. This would happen to me everywhere, many times when I’d even be alone. Even years later, some streetlights in my town would go out as I’d drive down the road. We agreed that I must have some sort of queer magnetic forcefield or something.
I raided the AYCE buffet in Blairsville tonight. It was no match for the mighty stomach of Duct Tape (uh-oh, I’m referring to myself in the third person). I had four, count them, FOUR full plates of food, plus dessert. ONE plate! Ha, ha, ha. TWO plates! Ha, ha, ha. THREE plates! Ha, ha, ha. Four! Four plates! Ha, ha, ha. I love to count! I think I had room for a bit more, but I didn’t want to get too much of a reputation with the other hikers! They were kidding about changing my trail name to “Hoover”. I’ve even been off the trail for a few days. Who knows how much I’ll be eating when I come straight out of the woods.
“Grandpa” and I caught the brilliant sunset while we were waiting for the shuttle driver to come around. I remembered that you don’t really have to be on the trail to reap many of the benefits – you just need to carry that trail mentality. I’ve got to keep that in mind after I finish in the autumn. After the sky had grown quite dim, I strolled over to a little stone wall to sit and watch the sparse traffic come through the quaint town circle. When I sat down, it instantly got even darker. I looked up. Sure enough, a street lamp directly above me had gone out. A little thing like that, the smallest memory from home, can really make your day.
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Thursday, April 12, 2001
Goose Creek Cabins
Today’s Miles: 0
Trip Miles: 39.3
My feet are taking FOREVER to heal! Have you noticed? Forever! I need to hike! Keith said that once he had blisters so bad, he had to work in only his socks for three weeks! Three weeks! I don’t have three weeks! Heal, I say, heal you lousy bums! ARRRRGGGGHHH! That’s it! That’s it, I tell you! I’m back on the trail tomorrow, like it or not!
It’ll be as if I’m beginning my whole hike over again, just a few days ahead. The group I got to know during my first days is in North Carolina by now, for crying out loud. I’ve gotta ramble on.
I’ve given up on writing all about every single wonderful person I meet. There are just too many. But of course I’ve got to rattle off a few names I haven’t mentioned – Dharma Bum, Ghostrider, Sugar Mountain Mama, Grandpa, Dolphin Boy, Ken, Bert, So Slow (I think), Never Alone ’99, some others who’s names I’ve forgotten, and Hawkeye, who left us nearly a full case of Miller High Life that he had sent himself in a maildrop! Thanks Hawkeye!
I can’t go on enough about Keith Bailey, owner of Goose Creek Cabins. This guy has the hospitality of a saint. When he and the other regulars wish me well, after knowing me only a few days, and a ton of other hikers like me, I know that they truly mean it. That goes a long way.
I’m gonna keep it slow when I hit the trail tomorrow. I’ve learned my lesson. I took in all the advice in my planning, absorbed it, and went out and did the opposite anyway when I began my hike. How stupid! No more.
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Friday, April 13, 2001
Goose Creek Cabins-unnamed campsite nort of Neel’s Gap
Today’s Miles: 2
Trip Miles: 41.3
I awoke this morning to pouring rain. Man, I thought, it would really suck to hike in this, but I really want to go today. I rolled over and went back to sleep. A little later JM came knocking on the door.
“What’s up?” he asked. “Do you know what today is?” I thought for a moment. “It’s Friday the thirteenth!”
That would just be my luck. It’s Friday the thirteenth and raining on the morning that I’m ready to leave Goose Creek. As soon as I came off the trail, I knew it! I said to everybody, “Watch. It’s beautiful now, but it will start raining when I get back on the trail”. I got just what I asked for, I guess. I told everybody that I’d stay another night, and bummed around the cabins and debated my foot treatment for the day through noon.
Then a funny thing happened. The rain stopped. Patches of blue began to poke through the gray, overcast sky. The sun shone through. Before I knew it, it had turned into one of the most beautiful days I’ve yet seen since I’ve been down here. I thought it was too bad that I actually indeed would spend another night here. As funny as it sounds, I could hardly bear the thought of another night in a bed!
And it dawned on me – I didn’t have to. I’m hiking the Appalachian Trail. I’m self-sufficient, and free to come and go as I wish. On a whim, I packed up my gear, checked out with Keith (God bless him and all the Goose Creek people), and soon enough I was on my way up the trail, northbound. It’s sad to part with these people and places that I have come to know, because I don’t know if I’ll come this way or ever see them again. I do hope to see JM and Kristy up the road.
So that’s how I came to be tented out all alone on this high, breezy ridge in Georgia. It was a gorgeous, late evening stroll up. I hiked in my flip-flops. FLIP-FLOPS! I plan to do so tomorrow too – hoping that I don’t break any toes. Tonight is the first time that I won’t be using my rain fly. I’m looking forward to some star gazing from my sleeping bag.
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Saturday, April 14, 2001
unnamed campsite-Low Gap Shelter
Today’s Miles: 8.6
Trip Miles: 49.9
Last night was crystal clear and breezy. The sound of the wind funnelling through the gaps and valleys lulled me to sleep. I awoke to a pristine morning and sunrise. I’m noticing a lot more wildlife hopping around the woods than when I first started, like squirrels, chipmunks, and even a brief glimpse of some white tailed deer hightailing away from me. I’m also seeing some tiny purple and white wildflowers popping up along the trails and had great views virtually all day.
I met a day hiker named Matthew at Wolf Laurel Top. He was just relaxing up there, taking in the great vista, and admiring the turkey vultures soaring in the air. I spent a few moments with him. He said that sometimes he leaves work early in the day and goes up there to get away from it all, a very sane thing to do.
I hiked all day again in flip-flops! Then I began to develop blisters between my toes, so I even walked barefoot for about two miles. It felt quite liberating. I think I ought to go back to the boots tomorrow, especially if it rains like it’s supposed to. I must have been quite a sight – barefoot, boots strapped to the daisy chains on my pack, and flip-flops dangling in my right hand! I passed Norm going up a mountain, and he called me “Mucho Macho”. That’s cooler than Duct Tape! So it goes.
This evening at the shelter there’s Mike, Norm, Flykitty, Mark, and Slowpoke. Slowpoke hitchhiked to the trail from Oklahoma! We have a pretty good campfire going now, so I’m going to go soak it in.
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Sunday, April 15, 2001
Low Gap Shelter-Blue Mountain Shelter
Today’s Miles: 7.2
Trip Miles: 57.1
We all left our baskets out last night, but the Easter Bunny apparently doesn’t come by Low Gap Shelter. No candy for us! The campfire last night was awesome. There’s nothing in the world like gathering around its warm glow in the dark woods in the middle of nowhere, talking and laughing with a group that shares a common dream – Katahdin.
We heard a rhythmic hammering coming from the woods in the morning. Somebody said “Is that a woodpecker?” “Sure is.” “That’s one serious woodpecker!” Ha!
These woodpeckers along the AT sure do mean business. It wasn’t long after I began hiking when it started to rain. It would rain for five minutes, stop, rain for five minutes, and stop. Each time, I’d stop and put on or remove my rain gear. Finally it began steadily pouring with occasional thunder and lightning until I made it to this shelter. That was pretty cool.
I wore my boots with the newly rigged insoles. I think I’m still getting too much rubbing in the heels, but it’s hard to tell with my wounds. I wore my two pairs of socks. I may break down when I get to Hiawassee and get a new pair of boots. I saw today that my feet got sunburned, and you can see where the straps on my flip-flops went over. My arms and neck are burned too, so I’m feeling cold here at the shelter. The wind is blowing hard, but this view should make for an excellent sunrise tomorrow.
I’m with So Slow and Roman tonight at the shelter. It’s all just fun – talking about maildrops and hostels, places to eat, other hikers, the weather, camping spots, terrain, and all kinds of nonsense. These mountains and backcountry are not ceasing to amaze me. I’ve never even seen anything like it first-hand, let alone living among it in such a pure way.
Well, just a shout out back home to everybody wishing for a Happy Easter! Hoping my feet hold up.
Oh, and I forgot to mention, it seems from the register that four “gals” had a bit of a slumber party here last night! I guess I got here too late…ha!
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Monday, April 16, 2001
Blue Mountain Shelter-Tray Mountain Shelter
Today’s Miles: 7.7
Trip Miles: 64.8
It began innocently enough last night. As soon as the last person quit stirring, the noise came from the shelf above me. It was a scratching, ripping sound. The mice were out. I tried to ignore it, but then something fell on my arm. I shined my light on it – candy bar wrapper, moist. I tossed it away, and groggily tried to go to sleep. Ten minutes later, something larger fell with a soft thud on the wood next to me. I had enough – turning my light on again. This time it was a cigarette box. I stood up and pointed my light at the shelf to investigate. I came face to face with the terrible, nasty, varmint, not more than a foot from me. I stared right into his beady little eyes. They stared right back.
Actually, I thought the little guy was kind of cute. He ran off into the inky, black darkness, not to be seen again. I would have used the flash on my camera to get a picture of him if it wasn’t for the others peacefully sleeping near me. Maybe next time.
The sunrise was wonderful. I didn’t even have to get out of my sleeping bag to see it. It had been a cold and windy night. My thermometer read forty-three degrees when I woke up. We found some candy bar wrappers and other presents in our boots. Apparently, the mice decided to store them there for us.
Yesterday’s front that brought the rain and thunderstorm blew right through overnight. Today was absolutely gorgeous – literally not a single cloud in the great big blue sky. The climb up Rocky Mountain out of Unicoi Gap was quite demanding. I didn’t stop for a second the whole way up. That’s one thousand feet, ladies and gentlemen! Soon I’ll be a lean, mean, mountain climbing machine. I had the “Chariots of Fire” theme going in my head. I frolicked among the top for a few minutes and celebrated, raising my stick to the sky and the noon sun, and then decided that I also had take a wizz on Rocky Mountain.
A bright colored bluebird fluttered across my path near Indian Grave Gap. The name of that place reminds me… I heard that a thru-hiker named “The Kid”, who I met briefly at Neel’s Gap, found an arrowhead back on Blood Mountain. That’s pretty cool! I saw a few hawks and caterpillars in addition to the bluebird.
The view from Tray Mountain is awesome! I think I could see the Great Smokey Mountains far off on the northern horizon. With this clear weather, I think I’ll go back up there for the sunset, and to do some star-gazing. There’s a magnificent spot to view the sunrise here again, too. So far, it looks like I’ll be all alone at the shelter tonight, but it’s not even six o’clock yet. If nobody else shows up, maybe I’ll try to get a photo of one of those nasty little mice!
Among the small various acts of vandalism here, somebody carved the initials “P.C.” into the wall. I know a PC, but he’s at Penn State. At least, he’s supposed to be, if he’s not carving his initials in shelters in the Georgia mountains. He plays a lot of golf, a sport that I enjoy myself. Of course, he’d beat me by like thirty strokes! I’m sure he’ll be out playing a lot this summer, while I’m doing my crazy bouncing up the Appalachians thing. Hey buddy, play a round for me, would ya?
I’m now writing from back up on top of Tray Mountain. Words already can’t do justice to what I’m experiencing up here, just as a small Kodak disposable camera doesn’t do any justice to what I’m seeing. I’m finding that it’s nearly impossible to write about every event that happens over the course of a day – every little notion that has me smiling from ear to ear as I continue on this extraordinary trail. Many things I even forget by the end of the day.
The view is about three hundred degrees around, if you stand on the tallest rock. My camera’s range covers about twenty to thirty degrees of that, across! There still isn’t a cloud in the sky – a wide, gaping vastness of blue. The wind is blowing a bit strong, intermittedly. Soon all the stars will be shining brightly. Ah! And I climbed up here! It’s about quarter of eight o’clock. Most of America is watching Wheel of Fortune and Simpsons reruns. Actually, I wouldn’t mind a good episode of The Simpsons…but anyway, I love it out here! Soon, the stars will be out all around me. I may just be high enough to reach up and touch them! I can see Blood Mountain and Neel’s Gap to the southwest – where I hiked from. I can see where I’m headed, and I can see the summit and firetower of Brasstown Bald, the highest point in Georgia. I by-passed a side trail that led up there yesterday because of a thunderstorm. A local said that it’s possible to even see Atlanta from here on a very clear day. I think I can barely see its faint lights out on the distant horizon, but I can’t be certain.
sunrise from Blue Mountain Shelter
Blood Mountain
Blood Mountain Shelter
Blood Mountain
sunset from Blood Mountain
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Tuesday, April 17, 2001
Tray Mountain Shelter-Deep Gap Shelter
Today’s Miles: 7.1
Trip Miles: 71.9
The temperature was thirty-one degrees when I woke up this morning! My water bottles oddly weren’t frozen, though. It’s been windy and blustery all day, and it doesn’t seem to be getting any warmer. Some of these gusts must be at least forty miles per hour. It was snow flurrying occasionally too. It sure is cold! Writing with gloves on is kind of tricky.
Tonight at the shelter are Shepherd of the Hills, Tenderheart, Ansini, Mom, and So Slow. Some others are tented outside. We were uncontrollably laughing for fifteen minutes about seemingly nothing! These little fits of laughter I’m getting out here are quite fun.
I’m looking forward to going into Hiawassee tomorrow. I could have easily made it there tonight and be sleeping in a warm motel, but I thought I’d spend an extra night in the woods and bop in and out of town tomorrow. There’s an all you can eat restaurant there. I hope they’re open for lunch!
A lot went through my mind today about how much fun things at home might be when I’m done. I’ll be twenty-one (hehe!)! The first Lord of the Rings movie is coming out in December, which I’ve been looking forward to. Maybe Bruce Springsteen will even have a new studio album out! I ought to have a much clearer head about things too, not that it wasn’t clear already! That’s up for debate. We’ll see.
So as of today I’ve finally experienced some truly cold stuff. It’s shaping up to be even colder and just as windy tonight. I’m glad I have my toasty sleeping bag! It’s purple too, not that you needed to know that. Very, very purple. Oh well. Now if it was pink, that would be an issue.
It looks like I’ll be in North Carolina in two days. That will be cause for celebration! I’m beginning to come to terms with how long this trail is. When planning my hike, I was like “Oh, getting to North Carolina, that isn’t too much!”, and it really isn’t, in the scheme of things, but it feels like I’ve come quite far already. I will have hiked the length of the Appalacahian Trail in the state of Georgia!
The weather put me in a kind of pensive, drifting mood while I was walking today. I’ve experienced a bit of every kind of weather this soon in my hike – rain, thunderstorms, mist, dry and overcast, sunny, clear and beautiful, a bit of snow flurries – it’s like a quick kind of climate overture. Well I had better turn in, my purple sleeping bag is calling me.
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Wednesday, April 18, 2001
Deep Gap Shelter-Plumorchard Gap Shelter
Today’s Miles: 7.8
Trip Miles: 79.7
The dust of snow
That fell on me
(When a crow flew down?)
On a hemlock tree
Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued
-Robert Frost
My admirable, noble, honorable, sage, and widely beloved eighth grade English teacher, the one and only Miss Quigg, had given my class the assignment to memorize a few Robert Frost poems. Virtually everybody chose “Dust of Snow” as one of them because it’s so short! The above is as close as I can remember it. I’m sure Miss Quigg wouldn’t be happy about my atrocious grammar in these journal entries. I left my five million page verb notebook at home.
I awoke to another frigidly cold morning, and a dusting of snow in the forest. My water bottle had some shards of ice in it. I was up and moving early, as I wanted to have plenty of time in town today. When I got to the road crossing, it was empty of traffic, save for one big truck that blew by. Trucks are pretty loud! The town of Hiawassee, where I had my maildrop, was eleven miles to the left, so I did what any hiker in my situation would do. I fixed myself up to look as presentable as possible, and stuck my thumb out.
It took maybe a little less than a half hour until somebody stopped. This guy actually drove past initially and then turned around at some point to get me! His name was Arthur, and what a kind man he was, with his wife Dorothy (I think) and what appeared to be one of their children or grandchildren. I think they picked me up because it was so cold, driving me and another hiker (Buschwhacker) all the way into town. They even stopped to ask for directions to the post office for me.
My mom sent me a little care package in addition to the food I had sent myself, which made my day. An elderly gentleman approached me in the foyer of the post office while I was sorting out my things.
“I bet you must be a hiker.” he said.
“What gave you that idea? My backpack, poor excuse for facial hair, and my oh so pleasant aroma?” I didn’t really say that. I simply replied “Yes sir.”
“Well I surely couldn’t do it. You’re going all the way?”
“That’s the plan.”
“Well here’s a little something I wrote”, he said, handing me a flyer he had gotten from his PO box, “Good luck to you.”
“Thank-you.” I found myself with a pamphlet in my hand about a mission to the moon to find God. Hmmmm!
Next on the list of things to do in town was to hit the AYCE buffet for lunch. Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, pot roast, carrots…oh yeah. I had a very pleasant time in my booth, with my backpack sitting across from me. I went into the bathroom before I left to fill up my water bottles, and cleaned myself up a bit, just like the homeless people do. I guess I am sort of homeless, and jobless, for that matter. It’s a pretty neat feeling strolling down the main street in town, being totally free.
I needed to go three miles up the road to the outfitter before I could hitch back to the trail, so I was walking down the street with my thumb out. A cop drove straight past me, not even slowing down. You’ve gotta love these hiker towns. A couple in a pick-up truck eventually gave me a ride the rest of the way. I must say, riding in that truck, with my pack and hiking stick at my side, the Georgia countryside flying past in the middle of the week in Spring -it was one of the most exhilarating things I’ve done in a while – better than any roller coaster at Dorney Park, tenfold. I felt like a travelling and wandering Jack Kerouac or Alexander Supertramp or something.
I only got two pairs of sock liners at the outfitter. I’m really trying to avoid getting new boots. The guy that worked there was terribly friendly, giving me a lift back up to the trailhead. He said that he gets to see a lot of thru-hikers while working in Hiawassee – a lot that make it to Maine and a lot that don’t. Is that supposed to mean there’s a chance that I won’t make it? Ha! Pessimists! He did the trail in ’95, under the name Fly’s Open.
It had warmed up by the evening and made for some great hiking by the time I was back up, regardless of the weight of six days of food on my back and a ton in my belly. I saw a hiker coming up behind me when I stopped at Bull Gap to check the map (How I love checking the map!)
“No way. Is that Kristy and Willow?”
“Is that Duct Tape?”
“Kristy and Willow!”
She’s the Kristy that helped me with my feet, who I had left behind at Goose Creek with JM. We had a very unexpected and pleasant reunion, and I found out that she’s meeting JM on Saturday at Rock Gap. Will I make it? She pushed ahead toward the state line when I stopped for the night at the shelter.
North Carolina tomorrow! I’ve had that James Taylor song, “Carolina In My Mind,” in my head all evening. My brother played it for me on the drive down here. I’m trying to think of a ceremonial thing to do when I cross each state live. Tenderheart says that I should get naked and spike my backpack on the ground like a football player. Hmmm. I don’t know about that! Any other ideas?
the dust of snow
the tree at Bly Gap
Introduction________The Appalachian Trail________North Carolina
