Georgia________The Appalachian Trail________Tennessee
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Hiking the Appalachian Trail – 2001
Thursday, April 19, 2001
Plumorchard Gap Shelter-Standing Indian Shelter
Today’s Miles: 13.7
Trip Miles: 93.4
Tenderheart seems to have made a new friend. A stray dog has been following her since the beginning of the morning. It’s a beautiful dog, and he’s very quiet, timid, and skitterish. He’ll jump back at the very slightest quick movement. This poor guy obviously must have been through something rough. He’s very thin and obviously hungry or starved, but oddly very finicky about what he’ll eat that we feed him. If he’s still around in the morning, Tenderheart is going to try to get him into a humane society or something in Franklin, N.C. She’s the only one of us he seems to like and not be too afraid of. He’s primarily a black or dark brown, with tan legs and tiny tan patches above his eyes. I don’t know what breed.
Not only do I have North Carolina in my mind, but I have it under my feet! Georgia is tucked under my belt…it’s been good. The state greets you with a gnarled oak tree, followed by an immediate steep climb up Sharp Top and Court House Bald. Welcome! I’m finally on the second map – going from the purple colored map I’ve been using to the big bad-ass red colored one. I met Gorp Dealer and Flatlander today. They both seem to be moving pretty fast. I didn’t see Kristy and Willow. And oh, get this – I met a friendly southbound section hiker as well. He felt that I was in need of a religous pamphlet to read, warning me about going to Hell. That’s two days in a row!
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Friday, April 20, 2001
Standing Indian Shelter-Big Spring Shelter
Today’s Miles: 14.4
Trip Miles: 107.8
I gave George my last Slim Jim before leaving the shelter. That’s the dog that’s been following Tenderheart. The poor thing must be so hungry. I wish I had some beef jerky or something with me for this stretch.
I climbed to the top of Standing Indian Mountain in the morning. It’s the highest elevation I’ve reached so far at 5500 feet. Late in the day, I then tackled the rock scramble up Albert Mountain. At one point, I had to throw my stick on the rock up above and use my hands to vault myself up. The view from the top was the best I’ve seen so far. There’s a rickety firetower that offers three hundred and sixty degree views all around. I could have used all of my film up there alone! It was tempting to set up camp right there for the night, but I decided to come down here. A bunch of great people have rolled in since, so I made the right choice.
Well, I knew it had to happen at some point.
Duct Tape took a fall today. It was while I was going down Standing Indian Mountain, and thinking about how much stronger I feel since I began. My left foot caught a rock hidden under some leaves, and down I went. My momentum and the weight of my pack took me straight forward. It was as if the trail was saying, “So, you think you’re tough, buddy? Well, take this!” I got right back up unscathed, save for a bruised ego. My feet are still slowly healing, and my knees are giving me a bit of pain every day, but not terribly. My lips are chapped and sunburned pretty bad, and even cracking and bleeding a very little. Other than that, all systems are good. A lot of people are coming down with nasty cases of poison ivy. I’ll have to watch where I step more closely.
Today I met Pam, Jamie, Joker, Minx, Pepe, Iculus, Cartman, and Frogman. The last four are a cool group of guys, but they’re moving pretty fast. We’ll see if I stay with any of them. Iculus is twenty like myself, and left school because he didn’t dig it, and so he could do things like this first. See! I’m not the only one! Nearly everybody out here has had enough of their old job and looking for something different. Most are just out of school, retired, between jobs, divorced…transitional phases. One person I met is out here because his wife recently got sick and passed away. The trail is a good thing.
George, Tenderheart, and Shepherd of the Hills
a stream crossing
view from Standing Indian Moutain
view from Albert Mountain
Saturday, April 21, 2001
Big Spring Shelter-Siler Bald Shelter
Today’s Miles: 12.8
Trip Miles: 120.6
I spent every day of the summer when I was twelve at an amusement park called Dorney Park. We had season passes. Like clockwork each day, my friend Bill’s mother would drive us there in a convertible at around four o’clock. Bill and I would hang around there all night – walking around, going on the rides, and looking at girls. Once, he even got a sixteen year old’s phone number! I think we told them that we were fourteen. We even got to know some of the people that worked there, and the days of the week they worked and stuff. There’s nothing like riding in the front seat of a wooden roller coaster on a warm summer’s night with the wind blowing back your hair, or getting so close to the holiday fireworks that the ash and wrappings fall on you, and you’re standing with the fire trucks…especially when you’re twelve years old. We had our whole school careers ahead of us. It was a great summer.
We would wait around the back gate at ten o’clock when the park closed for my mother to pick us up – just laying on the grass, checking out the stars and seeing how far we could throw rocks into the duck pond. That area isn’t even a public gate anymore. When my mom would drop Bill off at his house, he’d always disappear into this tunnel of shrubbery that led to his front door. He called it The Batcave.
During these last few days, as bits and pieces of green are popping up everywhere, I’ve been walking through some tunnels of small trees and bushes on the mountaintops that are very similar to The Batcave. When I go through those areas, I think of that summer.
I took a half mile side trail to have lunch under a special tree. It’s called the Wasilik Poplar, and it’s supposedly the second largest yellow poplar tree in the world. It’s one big tree! Sadly, it looks like it’s dying.
Cartman and I pushed a really good pace up to this shelter tonight. I think he and Frogman continued onward. Before I set up here for the night, I had to get a look at the top of Siler Bald. A bald is a mountain that is entirely forested except for the summit, which is naturally an open, grassy field, with high exposure and excellent views. I saw one for the first time today, and can’t wait to hike over it tomorrow morning.
It’s now nearly nine p.m. as I write this, and the last embers of a campfire we had going are slowly dying down. We were discussing how simple everything is out here, and how amazed we are about how little you need to actually live. At one point we were even laughing out loud at the unfortunate souls that work a million hours a week just to pay for their fancy SUV’s and “things”. Somebody said that the things they own own them. Well, the stars are coming out as well as Franklin’s city lights in the distance, and I am turning in. Life is good.
Sunday, April 22, 2001
Siler Bald Shelter-Cold Spring Shelter
Today’s Miles: 12.1
Trip Miles: 132.7
Chainsaw Dave sure did earn his trailname! His vicious snoring kept me up half the night. He’s lucky that he’s a cool guy. Ha. Gumbai and Spunk were also in the shelter – both very educated people. I awoke to some good, intelligent conversation, planning on pushing an eighteen mile day. It was another gorgeous one. We’ve been so lucky about not getting too much rain.
Another day brings the same great story about doing nothing. Here we are, lounging around a campfire as the daylight fades. Iculus just rolled in at nearly 8:30 pm. He did a really long day. I never did end up doing the eighteen miles. A new big time trouble spot flared up on the other side of my left heel. Enough’s enough! I’m getting new shoes at the NOC romorrow. It was funny – I stopped in here for a break, and considered pushing the extra miles in the heat, but then I thought wait – PUSH? I’m out here to enjoy myself. So here I am, having the time of my life in the woods.
I’m giving in and spending the night at the NOC tomorrow. I didn’t want to, despite the fact that tonight will be the tenth consecutive night in the woods, without bathing or doing laundry. Washing up and eating hot food is going to feel so good. The simple things that are a given in everyday life have become heavenly luxuries. Still, cold water from a spring and a dry slab of wood to sleep on can make one so happy.
evening at Cold Spring Shelter
Monday, April 23, 2001
Cold Spring Shelter-Nahantahala Outdoor Center
Today’s Miles: 11.5
Trip Miles: 144.2
Another incredible day! I hiked in my flip-flops again, not taking any chances. The foot nonsense ought to finally come to an end as of tomorrow. Views – am I ever going to stop writing about these jaw dropping vistas? I hope not! I had another three hundred and sixty degree look at North Carolina’s golden majesty. The Smokeys loom on the northern horizon. It’s so daunting to try to capture this with words and photographs. My camera is so meek and pathetic – I don’t know where to point it! There’s no camera in the world that would do a proper job.
Later I passed a rock outcropping, and as far as pictures go, that would have been another good one. As I continued on, I became slightly disappointed that I didn’t snap one up there. Then, I had a new idea. From this day forward, I’m going to make a conscious effort to eliminate the phrase “would have been” from my vocabulary. It’s a negative, and useless way to think! Think about it – when you say those words, it’s always in vain. Aha!
Everything bloomed and came to life as I descended into the valley and lower elevations. The world is so barren in the high ridges that I’ve been traversing. I went through a refreshing, green, luscious atmosphere with birds singing and yellow, white, and purple wildflowers everywhere. Wandering into the valleys is always so euphoric. Once, I remember, on one of my preparation hikes, I could hear church bells playing “Amazing Grace” in the distance as I made my way into Port Clinton. It was as if I was being heralded and welcomed into town. Today, I imagined that I was coming among the fair valley of Rivendell, from Tolkien’s “The Lord of the Rings”, with elves singing. Did I ever mention that those are great books? Those are great books!
And finally, into town for a hot shower, hot food and a bed – hiker heaven. Gumbai and I were hooting and hollering with joy when we first heard the sound of traffic on the road. The shower was so good. I hadn’t showered in ten days! The poor lady in the room where we signed in had us prop the door open because the hiker stench was so foul. The film of dirt and salt and sweat washed right off me. The perpetual dirt under my fingernails is temporarily gone. I swear, I can clean them out one night, and the dirt is back the next morning! I have no idea where it comes from, as well as a number of small cuts and bug bites that magically appear. I got my first look in a mirror in a while, and I’m quite tan already, and, yes, I must say, I do believe the beginnings of a beard are forming. Woo hoo!
And dinner, oh, dinner! How odd it is to be civilized. A fork? What is this?! How do I use it? I had a very pleasant meal with Bird Nerd and Cheatin’ Vegan. I plan to go back for breakfast. Mmmm…food! There are so many hikers here. It seems that I’m at last with a number of people that have been a day ahead or behind me for a while…its wonderful. And when I introduce myself, they say “Oh, Duct Tape! I heard about you!” I typically know their names as well from the register entries, and now I finally see their faces. And get this – one hiker who was a few days ahead of me … he liked it here so much that he inquired about and got a job, so now he’s a permanent resident. Strange, wonderful stuff. Life is good! To be a thru-hiker!
view from Wayah Bald
view from Wesser Bald
spring in the valley
Tuesday, April 24, 2001
Nahantahala Outdoor Center-Sassafrass Gap Shelter
Today’s Miles: 6.9
Trip Miles: 151.1
I was awake for half the night last night. I think I’m already having trouble falling asleep indoors. It’s just too stuffy without any fresh air. The five million Cokes I drank may also have had something to do with it! After a pancakes and sausage breakfast and a great pair of new shoes at the outfitter, I was ready to go.
The six mile ascent wasn’t nearly as taxing as I imagined. Soon, I came upon a small plaque along the trail, honoring a firefighter who had died at that spot while battling a forest fire. It was then that it began to rain. By the time I reached this shelter, I was soaked through and quite chilly, as the temperature dropped. We’re packed like sardines in here, and it’s looking to be a cold, damp night.
There’s a section hiker here that doesn’t stop talking! He keeps going and going – I don’t know how he does it. Things are getting pretty rowdy, which is very entertaining after being around subdued hikers for days.
Wildlife report: Gumbai said he saw his first snake yesterday. He thinks it was a bull snake – it surely wasn’t a copperhead or rattler. Pepe said he saw a bear back near Cowrock Mountain. He said he normally wouldn’t have ever seen it, but he stopped to adjust his pack and saw it up in a tree. He thought it was a trash bag or something until it turned and looked at him, and he saw the silhouette of a bear’s head. It dropped to the ground and ran away as soon as his camera flashed. Famino had a unique mouse experience at one of the shelters. A mother mouse gave birth to three babies in the sleeping bag compartment of his pack! It chewed up Ojisan’s bandannas to use as a nest for them. I’ve only seen deer, turkey vultures, butterflies, wild turkeys, chipmunks, squirrels, thousands of those little junco birds, and heard grouse thumping in the distance. I’ve also seen many bare tree trunks with the bark freshly shredded off, probably by bears. Life is good!
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Wednesday, April 25, 2001
Fontana Dam Shelter-Sassafrass Gap Shelter
Today’s Miles: 21.8
Trip Miles: 172.9
My first twenty-mile day! The weather cleared for yet another pristine, blue-skied day, and I was on my feet and moving north by eight a.m. I noticed on the steep downhills, when I’d gain too much momentum, that I’d often stop and grab small trees to stop myself. I sometimes do the same when I’m going straight up -pull small limbs for more leverage, even holding them and repelling up short rock faces. I thought that a lot of hikers must do this with the same trees, until one sorry fellow eventually comes along and the whole tree comes crashing down.
Now, I have this friend Dave. He’s known for a whole string of spontaneous, amusing, senseless things, like accidently destroying any poor, indifferent, inanimate object he lays his hands on. I could fill this whole journal with stories about him. Our cross country course was a true course of it’s type, in a wooded area. Every fall, the team would go up and do maintenance on it, clearing the trail of everything that had overgrown during the summer months. Dave took the term “clearing the trail” a little too far. He’d get down in a football stance, charge random tree trunks, and push, shove, drive and grunt until he’d bring the whole tree toppling down. He did this for fun. At our away meets, we’d sometimes wander off after the race and bring down a few choice saplings. The biggest trunk proudly seved as the start/finish line at our home course for the rest of the season.
Before he knew that I planned to do this, Dave asked me to take him for a hike this summer. I had a good laugh. Today, as I reached and buoyed myself on thin limbs, I smiled and wondered what the forrest service would think of Dave’s “leave no trace” principles!
I grew weary during the last miles in the twilight, and rolled in here about 7:30, when it was nearly dark. Fantastic views of Lake Fontana and the dam itself taunted me for hours from the ridgetops on the way down. On the trail, there are some days to push, and some days to take it easy. I didn’t know why, but I felt that I should push today.
I found out why when I arrived at this shelter. A trail angel had driven over one hundred miles to bring hot dogs, sodas, marshmallows, and Oreos. We sat around a campfire and cooked them over it on the ends of sticks, here beside the lake and under the stars. I caught a number of people that I know and many that I don’t, like the aptly named Harmonica Joe, who sure enough played his harmonica at the fire. Wonderful things like this are yet another one of the many facets that make this trail so great. Another great moment, another great evening, a day off tomorrow. Life is good.
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Thursday, April 26, 2001
Fontana Dam Shelter
Today’s Miles: 0
Trip Miles: 172.9
Ate a hot meal, got my mail, and relaxed at this beautiful spot for hours. I couldn’t ask for more. How I love to be on an adventure like this, sitting on a bench outdoors, and reading a handwritten letter from a friend! Letters are so much more classic than quick and easy e-mail.
I’m heading up into the Great Smokey Mountains National Park tomorrow. There are all kinds of fun things there – a high bear population that has accustomed itself to humans, wild boars, bobcats, a reintroduction of elk, and predatory plants like the venus fly trap. There’re apparently more varieties of fauna in the park than all of Europe! I’ve been warned about checking my boots in the morning with a cloth, in case of brown recluse spiders, which will do a number on you if they bite. A girl was rescued from across the lake a few days ago because of a copperhead bite. There also ought to be some towering stands of virgin timber in the park. I’m looking forward to it.
Well, I’m now off to phone home, take a hot shower, and relax the rest of the night away! Maybe I can catch the sunrise tomorrow morning before heading across the dam. Life is good.
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Friday, April 27, 2001
Fontana Dam Shelter-Russel Field Shelter
Today’s Miles: 13.8
Trip Miles: 186.7
I was in the park for less than a half hour when I saw a young deer coming southbound down the trail toward me. It ambled up to only about ten yards away from me, minding it’s own business and posing for a perfect picture. I don’t know what it was, but something kept me from snapping the button. Maybe I was hoping that it would come even closer. Before I knew it, it wandered off and it wasn’t even really worth taking the picture anymore. Five minutes after that encounter, I saw a three-inch silver/gray colored salamander scurry along a log. There was bear scat and fur down the whole trail too, but I never saw one.
Later, I almost stepped on the oddest thing right on the footpath. I’m still not quite sure exactly what it was – some sort of four-legged mammal baby. I’m thinking that maybe it was a mouse or pig. It was squirming around a bit and making really little squeaking noises. Very odd.
Walking across the dam on such a sunny morning was cool. Somebody told me that’s the place where they filmed the scene in The Fugitive where Harrison Ford jumps into the river. The park is an early landmark for thru-hikers, but still takes some solid hiking to get to. I’m feeling like somewhat of a seasoned hiker now, having come this far, which is a really good feeling. I started the fire here tonight for us. It’s just me and a few people that are out for about a week – a few from Tennessee, and a girl from Holland. They’re really nice poeple, and even gave me some crackers, potato chips, and Kool-Aid! They informed me that I’m now writing with my feet on Tennessee soil! There wasn’t any marker along the train or anything. Oh, well. Life is good.
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Saturday, April 28, 2001
Russel Field Shelter-Double Spring Shelter
Today’s Miles: 16.4
Trip Miles: 203.1
I think I’m finally hitting my stride – finding a good pace, feeling used to, and getting comfortable with living in the woods on a daily basis. I can tell people I meet along the way that I’m headed to Maine, without the slightest hesitation in my mind. I’ll eat just about anything that anybody offers me, and quickly snatch up food that I drop in the dirt and throw it in my mouth. I don’t care. When in the woods, I’ll usually accept any extra calories I can get. I feel like a thru-hiker.
I can’t get enough of these grassy ridgelines in the Smokies. The trees open up, so you can really see how high you are as you walk along. The quartz I’ve been seeing since Springer is such a pure white. The mountains here have cool names too, like Rocky Top and Thunderhead. The shelters in the park are quite odd. They have stone walls and a very heavy duty wire fence across the front to keep bears out. I feel like an exhibit in a zoo, where the animals come to look at the hikers! A few days ago, a hiker had his pack snatched by a bear when he went away only for a minute to get water. I’ve heard that bears literally stalk hikers, waiting for them to take their packs off, so they can run down and get the food out of them. They know if they can get between the hiker and the backpack the food is theirs. I’ll keep mine close to me! It has my few life’s essential possessions in it, anyway.
Gumbai has been leaving notes in all the shelter registers since Fontana Dam, taunting me about how fast he’s been going. I caught him tonight, and sank his battleship! I had been about four miles on his heels all day, catching his notes. The last two mile jaunt to this shelter was so exhilerating. I’m coming up on Clingman’s Dome, the highest point on the A.T., so I hiked at a brisk pace on this somewhat narrow ridge. With the wind gusting and blowing my pack straps all around, I had fantastic views in both directions. The sun was low on the horizon as I skitted along up there, chasing down Gumbai.
He and I and some other thru-hikers are here tonight, as well as two groups of people out for a few days. One of them is a young couple with a bunch of small kids from Cincinnati. The other is a group of guys from Tennessee, one of which was born in Poland and recently came to America six or so years ago. They’re asking me all kinds of enthusiastic questions about thru-hiking, and it feels great to give them sage advice and knowledge, wrought from experience. I think I just saw a mouse. Life is good, with yet another clear, beautiful day and a warm campfire.
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Sunday, April 29, 2001
Double Spring Shelter-Icewater Spring Shelter
Today’s Miles: 13.8
Trip Miles: 216.9
“On top of old Smokey
All covered with snow, …”
I worked nearly every night at the restaurant with a dishwasher named Peter. He was fifty-eight years old, if I remember correctly. We’d close together, and we had a lot of good times there. He and I were two of the very few that had worked there since the place opened until he left and I followed shortly thereafter to do this hike. Anyway, he always sang the above lyrics, and they seem to apply to the Great Smokey Mountains that I’m now traversing.
Those of you that occasionally read this journal probably wonder what I think about all day. All kinds of things go through my head, and usually nothing at all except how beautiful and peaceful my surroundings are. It’s so easy to ramble along and just simply “be”. Other times, I often find myself thinking back and drawing on all my past good times, sometimes laughing out loud at something I happen to remember. Music is a big motivator, and I sing songs aloud and think about great moments I’ve had associated with them. Some hikers carry a Walkman or radio to give them that extra push up a mountain, but I think that takes away from one of the challenges – the ability to carry that music in your heart and in your head, and rather to have an internal motivator to move along. The rest of the time I think about my plans for the day and week regarding where to get food, water, and where to sleep for the night. I think about my food cravings a whole lot.
I passed over the highest point on the Appalachian Trail today – Clingman’s Dome. There were a lot of day hikers up there dressed in shockingly flashy colors and smelling like soap and other aromatic fragrances. There were a lot of them at Newfound Gap, too. I saw yet another deer up close this morning, but no picture. The view from Clingman’s Dome was of course amazing, but not as great as one would expect. I like to remind myself of the fact that the Appalachians are the oldest mountain chain in the world, having once stood much higher than the Himalayas and Everest. Imagine what Clingman’s Dome must have been like.
I met two hikers from India today. They said that the first thing they asked when they came to America was, “Where are all the people?” India may now have the highest population in the world, close to China, but I’m not sure. I also met two more men from the Netherlands. They’re taking over the trail! There’s also another hiker I know that lives and works most of the time in Antarctica! That’s hardcore. I’m with Gumbai again tonight, but I may lose him as I raise my mileage. Harmonica Joe is here again at this lovely spot as well, serenading us into the evening. Life is good.
at Newfound Gap
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Monday, April 30, 2001
Icewater Spring Shelter-Cosby Knob Shelter
Today’s Miles: 20.3
Trip Miles: 237.2
I awoke peacefully in my tent before seven a.m. again this morning. It’s funny -I’m finding that I’m usually up that early now, and typically in my sleeping bag at night before nine p.m. I know everybody at home will think that’s unreal, being that I’m usually such a night owl There were days when I’d go to bed at seven in the morning… or wake up at nine in the evening! Nature is having a marvelous effect on me. I visited an early sidetrail to a place called Charlie’s Bunion. It’s a rocky outcropping with some very steep cliffs and a narrow trail. I’m at a loss at finding a way to describe many of these things – standing truly exposed over a vast wilderness, as the sun still inches its way up and gradually lifts the dew and mist from the green, endless forest. I liken it to the rock in the movie The Lion King, you know the spot I’m talking about, and oh, the feeling is that of being king of the world! Only… not… these unique experiences are equally hunbling as they are empowering – a strange pair. I strap on my pack, my single and only material concern, and ramble farther north. Following a narrow ridgeline for most of the hike was excellent, again, views in both directions. The skies were gray and some rain fell on me in the middle of the day, tempting me to call it a day early, but I continued on to here anyway – like they say, no rain, no pain, no Maine. The skies did end up clearing later, and I’ve found myself at a shelter meeting more people who’s register entries I’ve been following. I’m nearly through the Smokies. I spoke with Harmonica Joe about long distance bicycling. He’s done a trip coast to coast, which is another thing I’ve always had in mind to do (I sense my mother having a heart attack at that sentence). Who knows?
I was thinking about what all the poor suckers in the “real world” (heh, heh) were doing today. Today is a Monday, and I remembered what track practice used to be like on Mondays. We called it “Death Day”. We would do timed speedwork. The distance runners would line up. Coach would say “Runners-set-GO!” All too speedily we’d rush off and run a mile as fast as we could. When finished, we’d haggardly step around sucking air, and in a few ever-so-brief minutes he’s say “Runners-set-GO!” Again another mile. Fast. And another. And then some half miles, and quarters, and death – all timed. Some of these mountains,I’m telling you, going up them is harder than those days. Sorry Coach – the Appalachians get the nod. At the end of those practices, one always felt so spent, yet ever so proud for having pushed so hard. And oh, the feeling when wearily stumbling up those mountaintops… Life is good.
Charlie’s Bunion
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Tuesday, May 01, 2001
Cosby Knob Shelter-Painter Branch
Today’s Miles: 12.7
Trip Miles: 249.9
And so I enthusiastically welcome the month of May, but bid adieu to the Great Smokey Mountains on the same date. It’s a glorious natural reserve, even though the federal government puts seemingly zero money into it. Back at Newfound Gap, I went up and stood in the same place that Franklin D. Roosevelt stood when he dedicated the park, when it was first established more than fifty years ago. What a truly different time this surely is, compared to those days. I passed serenely out of the park, and the wily, elusive, cunning black bear has eluded my watchful eye thus far. The beast and Duct Tape must be fated to meet on another day.
I took a two mile road walk past Davenport Gap along the beautiful Pidgeon River to a country store and restaurant called Mountain Mama’s to satisfy my craving for a burger, a Coke (many Cokes), fries, and a chicken sandwich, as well as to resupply. It was quite a place, with Dolly Parton paraphenalia and other “down home” artifacts cluttering the small room. We had a very hot day, and it looks as though summer has come to the valleys. During the stroll on the road along the river, I was reminded of summers spent walking from place to place – friends’ houses, parks, literally everywhere, and I was reminded of the movie Stand By Me. For an hour or two today, I was walking along that wooded river road and actually went back to that time – free and having great fun as a child, relishing in the adventure of taking a long trip for something so simple as going to a store and buying my own burger. I may not have that feeling again for a very long time, if ever.
On the return trip, there was a man errantly shooting hoops at a simple basketball net in a small park. I paused, mulling over a notion for a second, and dropped my pack.
“Excuse me,” I said. “Excuse me,” getting his attention. “Um, would it be okay if I took a few shots with your ball?” “Sure.” He passed it to me.
We exchanged pleasant conversation as I attempted about five shots, poorly missing all of them. It felt great to dribble the ball on hard asphalt, and this guy had it superbly pumped up with air. I smirked, seeing that the ball was covered with the Chicago Bulls logo and felt old. The Bulls used to be my team when I followed the spurt when Jordan, Barkley, Bird, and Magic Johnson all still played in their prime. I remember the “Magic on Michael” duels in the NBA finals one year, when the Bulls won their first championship, and John Paxson always nailed the three pointer from the corner. Now, all pro sports are souped up egos and money-money-money. I thanked the guy and continued on my way, back up a mountain.
I took my time going up, so as to conserve energy. All I planned to do was set up my tent at the first flat spot I’d come upon, which was a ways up on this ascent. I think I was musing about the sort of house I’d like to live in one day when I heard it. Thunder. I cast my eyes upward where a forbidding black cloud approached in the sky. The thunder roared again, louder. A gentle but warming breeze touched the leaves as the air became clearer and cooler, and everything in the forest seemed to scatter. There was no way that I wanted to set up my tent in a storm, and an adrenaline rush instantly made me rush up the trail, up a terribly steep grade. I looked to the sky, gasped for air, looked to the sky, and sped along. The storm came closer. Light drizzle began to fall. Oh no! Side sticker! The price of Mountain Mama’s. I doubled over in pain from the sticker, and forged ahead. Hark! I heard water! Was it a stream, or pouring rain? Thunder roared. The sun vanished. A stream! It’s a stream! Voices! Oh, tents! And a spot for mine! I threw up my tent in a tiny, flat area near Grasshopper, Stryder, and Emma. I crawled in just in time as buckets of rain soon poured. We’re joking and yelling to each other from inside our tents, merrily laughing and even singing the Doors’ song, “Riders on the Storm”, and others. It must be quite a sight – four tents close together with voices emulating from them, engaging in conversation! In the middle of a storm! And man, once me and all my gear are packed in a small space, I sure do smell! It’s a wonder I can stand myself. I see the silhouette of a salamander crawling up my rainfly. How very cool! I forgot to mention – I saw a snake today. It wasn’t poisonous or a black snake. It was right in the middle of the trail and moved very fast when I came upon it, or else I never would have even seen it. This storm has lasted until dark. I didn’t go out to hang my food. Lightning is flashing and brightening my whole tent, and the rumbling thunder shakes the earth (my bed) beneath me. I’m going to try and get some sleep now, amid this racket. Life is good!
The Pigeon River
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Wednesday, May 02, 2001
Painter Branch-Max Patch
Today’s Miles: 11.3
Trip Miles: 261.2
I got a late start dealing with my wet, muddy tent. I lashed it onto the outside of my pack so it would have a chance to dry out somewhat over the course of the day. The storm subsided at some point during the night. It was a humid, overcast morning. Getting myself to start moving was a slow task. Things were easier once I began climbing the remainder of Snowbird Mountain, even though the gnats were constantly hovering and dive-bombing my grimy face and ears. It’s funny how I actually welcome sweat in a way, because it seems to clear off a bit of the perpetual dirt.
There were still some guys at the Groundhog Creek Shelter when I pulled in early in the afternoon, drying out their gear as well. The sky looked as though it wanted to storm again, and occasional drops of rain fell. A small, mid-afternoon fire was going, and I stayed around there simply enjoying good company. It’s quite a different feeling to just hang out in the woods all day, because I’m constantly on the move, save for the evenings. I decided that I’d stay there if it rained, and if it cleared up I’d go on to Max Patch, which I so badly wanted to do. There’s a funny kid my age here named Shaggy who hikes into the night, often until as late as three in the morning, and sleeps late in the day. What an interesting way to go. I was feeling pretty famished, and ate most of my food supplies over the afternoon. I’ll have to make it to Hot Springs from here.
The weather eventually did clear up, and I’m now standing up on Max Patch, and I’m SO glad I’m here! I’m sure it’s the most amazing place I’ve encountered along the trail thus far! It’s a high bald with virtually no trees – just an absolutely huge “hill” covered in grass! Panoramic vistas conquer every direction. It’s incredible. To be at places like this is a reason I’m doing this whole hike! Sunset, stars, sunrise…the best trilogy ever created! I can’t handle it. I imagine in the winter one could sled down this whole mountain, with momentum carrying you for miles! Or, remember rolling laterally down grassy slopes as a kid? Some of this is considerably steep as well. Ah! Euphoric and simply unreal…is this really happening? Fear not – I’ll have my rain gear handy to scurry off this high point in the event that a storm rolls in. One hiker writes in virtually every register entry that “It’s a great day to be alive.” How true! Life is good.
Max Patch
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Thursday, May 03, 2001
Max Patch-Hot Springs, NC
Today’s Miles: 19.8
Trip Miles: 281
Enjoyed quite possibly the best sunrise of my life from Max Patch this morning. I told myself last night that I would wake up in time, and I did. I was all alone for a while atop this grassy mountain to marvel at the glorious dawn. The sun was just a red-orange orb for a moment as it crawled up, about the size of a full moon, and you could stare right at it with the naked eye. Eventually, Rocky and Doose crept out to admire the spectacle as well, choosing their own solitary spots. We didn’t break the precious silence with a single word – a simple nod or wave was plenty.
I was moving north quite early after the sun had hidden behind some puffy clouds. The early walking was wonderful, passing over many small streams and nice areas until I met up with Bushwhack, Stock, and Kelly, who were just beginning to get moving at the first shelter. After a considerable climb up Bluff Mountain, the rest of the day was all relatively downhill until Hot Springs. I also met Chewbacca and Turtle late in the day.
The first things I did in town, naturally, were to shower, do laundry, and grab a Coke. I didn’t bother to run my clothes through the dryer, like Famino pointed out, “That’s what I have all these synthetics for.” Finally I made it down to a place to get hot food before it closed.
“I’d like one whole pizza with sausage and pepperoni,” I said.
“OK, that’ll be about twenty minutes,” the girl said.
“Actually,” I had a second thought, “Could you make that two?”
“Two whole pizzas?”
“Yes.”
“With sausage and pepperoni?”
“Yes.”
I sat down and had one of the pizzas right there, with another Coke. I brought the other back to save for later in the night. This town again has a number of hikers who were ahead of me, and more coming in that were behind, so it’s like catching up with old friends. There’s a hiker I met tonight named Baltimore Jack, who’s done the trail a number of times. He’s also a huge Bruce fan! He says that one of his friends is bringing the new album to Trail Days in Damascus. Maybe I’ll have to track him down when I get there. As of today, I’ve been “on the trail” for a full month. Life is good.
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Friday, May 04, 2001
Hot Springs, NC
Today’s Miles: 0
Trip Miles: 281
The place where I’m staying is a big, white colonial house with a wrap around porch, hardwood floors, and everything. It’s beautiful. We were served coffee and a family style breakfast with Simon and Garfunkel and other good tunes playing quietly in the background. Hot Springs is a quiet little town with very few places, quaintly nestled in the towering Appalachians along the French Broad River. The trail itself goes right down the main street with blazes on the telephone poles. That street is essentially the whole town.
I picked up my mail drop at the post office today. I love letters! This time, I sat out along the curb and sidewalk to have a read. I’ll have to make time to write back. Corresponding in such a way while travelling is so excellent! I then got a chance to go online at the library and read my guestbook and e-mail. Wow! I can’t believe the things that have been written. It keeps me going, surely. It’s funny though, I thought after sending an e-mail that I probably won’t be so eager to find a computer again. It defeats some of the purpose of the experience, I think. We’ll see what I do. I may just resort to only letters.
I got to meet Wingfoot today. Grasshopper and Stryder were already on his porch talking with him when I went up to visit. The guy obviously loves the trail, and we got a lot of good advice. I ate another whole pizza for dinner. Oh, and this place I’m staying – it has wooden screen doors. Life is good.
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Saturday, May 05, 2001
Hot Springs-Spring Mountain Shelter
Today’s Miles: 12.8
Trip Miles: 293.8
Sent some things home at the post office and I was back on the trail. It beautifully went along the French Broad River for a little while before ascending back into the mountains. The way the sun sparkled off the foaming water at eye level was magnificent. There were train tracks before crossing the river – the sound of them reminding me of the one near home. I stopped at a rocky point called Lady’s Leap, looking back over Hot Springs. I bid farewell to the town and a good time there, and turned, continuing on my journey.
A dark freckle on my leg caused me to tear up the surrounging skin, before realizing that it was indeed only a freckle – tick paranoia. The bugs are becoming quite thick now that spring is turning into summer. There’s a million of these small ones that swarm you and bite like mosquitos. If one gets at you long enough before you notice, it’ll leave a small wound and drop of blood on the spot it had bitten. I only have two such spots – the rest I’ve swatted dead like a pro, but I do have many itchy bites. I started a quick fire tonight to keep them away. Manchester says that you just have to give them some respect, and they’ll leave you alone. Sorry! Doesn’t work. The water sources lately have been shallow, muddy puddles. I hope I don’t have to put up with that for too long. My poor filter wasn’t made to handle that stuff.
Famino and I are the only ones in the shelter tonight. It’s a clear, cool night with a bright moon after a hot, muggy day, so some hikers are pushing on tonight in the dark. Not me! I’m not quite ready to do that yet. Maybe at some point. I spent the hottest part of the day lounging around in the grass anyway, reading a book and enjoying a snack. Life is good.
looking back at Hot Springs
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Sunday, May 06, 2001
Spring Mountain Shelter-Little Laurel Shelter
Today’s Miles: 8.6
Trip Miles: 302.4
I approached a road crossing where a man with two very small children were heading into the woods. I was wearing a bandanna.
“Look Daddy! That man looks like a piwate!”
“Arrrr…” I grumbled. The boy giggled, and walked up to me on the starboard flank.
“Arrrr.”
“Why do you go ‘Arrrr’?”
“Aye, because I’m a piwate,” I muttered.
“But, but, where’s your boat? Don’t you have a boat?”
“Arrrr.” I unfurled my sails and treaded forward on these stormy seas, with thunder rolling in the distance all day long. The dad surely must have thought that I was quite an unsavory character.
Life is good, Arrrrr!
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Monday, May 07, 2001
Little Laurel Shelter-Flint Mountain Shelter
Today’s Miles: 12.6
Trip Miles: 315
Thunder was rumbling in the distance all day long yesterday, even when there were clear skies. It never did rain on me, but a front obviously did come through. I awoke this morning to cloudy skies and a brisk, cold wind, the temperature having dropped rather dramatically. I didn’t especially feel like going anywhere, but I got up and had some breakfast anyway. After considering getting up and packing my things to walk, I decided “Heck, it’s a Monday, what a perfect day to sleep in… because I can!” So I did – in my warm sleeping bag.
After about two hours, I woke up refreshed, and read a little. Some little junco birds were bopping around the area. I swear those guys are following me up the trail. It was nearly noon by the time I finally hit the trail, and the sun had come out for a little while. The terrain varied within such a short distance – rock scrambles, an old logging road, and an open, grassy field on top of a mountain!
This is also quite a morbid section of the A.T. Yesterday I passed a memorial for a hiker who had died right at that spot on the trail from a heart attack, and a headstone of another person. Today, I passed a memorial in the spot where a hiker chose for his ashes to be spread, and the Shelton headstones a few miles further. The headstones are for two Union soldiers during the Civil War who were ambushed and killed at that spot while attempting to return home to their family – they were brothers. Their thirteen year old nephew was with them and was killed as well. I gave my respects at all these sites.
Unkie and I are pretty sure we saw a Peregrine Falcon this afternoon. There’s an absolutely huge fire going here tonight – you should see all the branches Zorro collected. Life is good.
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Tuesday, May 08, 2001
Flint Mountain Shelter-Hogback Ridge Shelter
Today’s Miles: 8.7
Trip Miles: 323.7
I climbed over my first stile today. What in the blazes is a stile, you ask? Sometimes, the AT goes through farmers’ grazing fields, fenced off with barbed wire. Stiles are just a spiffy name for stepladders that are built for backpackers to climb over them. It was odd because Zorro was telling me a little about the trail in Virginia, and I mentioned that it will be neat when I go over my first stile, for some reason. And there it was, the very next morning.
I hoofed up the steepest and possibly most difficult climb of my adventure so far, on an old rugged logging road. Struggling and toiling to get to the top through some thick underbrush, squeezing beneath and clambering over some serious blowdowns, I thought, “Gee, this section of the trail isn’t maintained very well… there aren’t even many blazes!” Finally I got to the top — so satisfied and proud to be there. I galavanted on down the trail along the ridge, and suddenly it didn’t look to be much of a trail at all. That’s when it hit me – this wasn’t the AT! Lost! Where’s the AT!? And so I backtracked all the way down … and down and down the infamous mountain I had just come up, all the way to the bottom near some old, dilapidated cabin ruins. That’s where I saw the fork where I had strayed off the AT … at the bottom. It turned out that the real AT doesn’t even go near going up that mountain.
The little side trip ruined my goal for the day of trying to get as far as Big Bald, so I stopped short at this shelter for the night. That means I’m going to run out of food before I get to Erwin as well. There’s supposed to be a restaurant and a small convenience store a few miles down from the road crossing at Sam’s Gap tomorrow, so I’ll have to hitch down and hope to pick up some food. Half Day and Joyster were kind enough to offer me some of theirs!
I met a pastor that takes hikers into their church. They’re also holding a breakfast for hikers on Saturday morning – too bad I’ll be too far ahead by then. It’s starting to rain, and I’m nice and dry for the night. Life is good.
Georgia________The Appalachian Trail________Tennessee
