| Page 1
Well, my journey began at the southern terminus of the Appalachian Trail in
the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. A short 90 minute drive from
Atlanta brought me to Amicalola State Park and Springer Mt., the official
start of the AT (Though the real thru-hikers start on the Florida Trail near
the Keys, and push on past Maine on the IAT-International Appalachian
Trail-up to Newfoundland). The weather was not uncommon for spring, which was cold
rain that turned into snow. North Georgia is a good introduction to the
Appalachian Trail, because it gets you into a new kind of fit for the rest
of the hike. The trail ascends all the highest peaks around, only to reach the
bottom of the next one. The first few days are pretty funny in the sense
that you try not to feel overwhelmed by it, but its impossible because now that
you're in the mountains, all you have is time to contemplate the next 5 months on the Trail.
I was told that hikers "mellow out" a bit once they reach
Damascus, VA, which marks roughly the end of the first quarter of the trail. The
first week is a lot of first impressions, a few intense personalities stuck in the
same confined space, and a different kind of camping than seen later in the
hike (usually everyone is stuck in their sleeping bag for around ten hours
due to the cold). Most people are still learning, too. I was carrying 50 lbs., now I am down to 30 lbs.
There is also the prospect that only 20-25% of those who start the thru-hike
will actually complete it.
In the first three days, a sort of group was formed that disbanded quickly
at Neel's Gap. At mile 30 on the trail, Neel's serves as a hostel and an
outfitter, as well as the end of the hike for about 20% of the thru-hikers
for all types of reasons. The lamest one (and I think most common) is "it's not
what I was expecting." One girl I was hiking with from Atlanta, Betsy, said
she turned around after hiking a mile past Neel's, saying "something didn't
feel right". Later she found out that she was pregnant.
Picture taken right after the GA/NC border |
Day Five brought us to the Low Gap Shelter, where I met some locals that I
can say you won't find ANYwhere but the southern United States. They were very
friendly and added to the environment. Later that night Brett and Evey
rolled in, who were completing their southbound thru hike that began at Mt.
Katahdin in Maine last August. March in North Georgia was about as cold as I could
bear, and didn't even know people attempted a southbound hike like this
until I met them. Only a few days away, they said they were ready to leave.
Pretty amazing endurance that would take.
Day Eight I crossed into North Carolina and upon reflection, some of the
best hiking in the south. The stretch from Carter Gap Shelter to Winding Stair
Gap- About 16 miles-was completely misted over and drizzling. This can really
add to the hike, but in March it also means you can't really take any breaks. At
Winding Stair Gap it was an eleven mile ride into Franklin, NC, which isn't
really anything to write home about. Still it's part of the whole
experience of the hike, and had a distinct feel as being a southern Appalachian
town.
 |
Next came the Smoky Mountains and some truly beautiful views. It was a good
hike up to the ridge line, but the overcast weather gave the neighboring
ridge lines a cool blue color. The weather is something hikers have to be
careful with in the spring though. Three college students had to be rescued
a month earlier during a snowstorm that brought knee deep drifts. By the time
I reached Newfound Gap, the halfway point of the Smokies, I was pretty
demoralized by the unyielding rain, hail, and ice that covered large
stretches of the trail. One hiker I was with bent his poles here. No views on
Clingmans Dome either, at an elevation of 6643 ft. is the highest point on the
trail.
They say that hikers experience a wide range of luck on the trail, and
things always can get better just as they can get worse. At Newfound Gap I met
Wildcat, who had hiked in 2003 and was on his way out to hike the Pacific
Crest Trail (The season for the PCT begins in late April, as they have to
wait for some snow to melt on the Sierras). He waited for a car full of hikers
to show up, and with another thru-hiker took us to a cabin at Pigeon Forge
(Home of Dolly Parton's
Dollywood), where he fed us, got us drinks and let us rest our bones in a
hot tub on a cold, crisp night. The other hikers made an effort to rent
Napoleon Dynamite too, which I've seen twice on the trail already. In Atlanta,
I've heard a phrase HABU, pronounced "haa-boo" (which stands for "Hook a brother
up"), we got HABU'ed.
View just before Big Bald |
The next surprise came on April 2nd, Day 27, where "heavy thunderstorms"
became an unexpected blizzard. I later heard a thru-hiker from Maine refer
to it as a righteous storm. After hiking a few miles in the morning, I waited
at a road crossing with my hiking partner, Appalachian Snail; several other hikers were walking three miles down to a diner to warm up. After waiting an hour we
got really cold, and Snail pushed on. I went down the road by myself to look
for this diner that probably wasn't open (There were no tire tracks on the
blanketed road I was walking down). Half a mile down, while I was going
down the road staring straight at the ground, a woman opened her door and invited
me in. Amethyst and her husband Glen recently moved to the area and are
planning to start an organic farm on their 54 acre plot, selling produce to
co-ops in Asheville. Amethyst had also recently helped a friend open a
doughnut shop in Boulder, Tastefully Toasted. They had plans for a Cinco de
Mayo party for hikers, but that was a month away-perhaps next year. Glen
hadn't done much backpacking recently, but told me about a program he did
through the Aspen Achievement Academy about ten years ago: A 90 day solo in
the desert outside of Provo, Utah with nothing other than a blanket and a
week's rations. I was about to ask if I could stay the night, but not after
hearing all this. It was coming down hard, but I had four hours to make it
seven miles to the Bald Mountain Shelter before it got dark. I thanked them and
tried to hustle, but kept getting lost. There were no footprints to follow
and many of the white blazes marking the AT were covered by snow. This had
me hiking in circles. When I finally crossed Big Bald (Elevation 5516), the
winds were raging. The next day, I heard that they recorded 70mph winds
on the balds, and four people had their rain covers ripped off their packs. I
was a mile from the shelter but it was getting dark, and I sort of panicked.
Twenty minutes later it was too dark to hike and I had to bivy under some
shrubs (I had just mailed my tent home, and wrapped myself in a tarp). My
stove was too cold to prime and I threw on all my clothes. Glen told me
that he covered his hands and feet in grocery bags to keep from getting cold,
which I discovered really helps. It was a ten minute walk to the shelter the
next morning in a cold, but otherwise a pleasant morning. Snail's expression
was pretty funny seeing me roll in. Then we all headed for Ms. Janet's in
Erwin, TN, who has been referred to as the Trail Momma. It was packed with hikers
from as far as 25 miles north and south of Erwin looking for a place to
rest.
View of Watauga Lake, North Carolina (Mile 418)
|
At Ms. Janet's, I came down with something that I first thought was food
poisoning, but later was just called a hiker's bug. I'm just glad Ms.
Janet was there to take care of me because it had me in bed for a full day and
weak for the next two. Another hiker, Skillet, got it a day after me while
hiking, and had to be rescued by EMT's and spent the night in the Erwin hospital
with an IV. I guess situations can always get worse.
|
|
