Even though sleeping on a real mattress made for a good night's sleep, it seemed as if the morning came all too early. The gray light coming through the window told me it had to be some time after 6, so I grudgingly got out of bed, dressed, and then finished the last few pages of "Into the Wild". Downstairs, just before breakfast, I watched the forecast on the Weather Channel which was most unfavourable for this area. Outside it was rather chilly, the area blanketed in thick fog. The weather report indicated it was just a matter of time before the rain came.About 7:30 the guests in the hostel were gathered around the breakfast table, but silence reigned. Everbody was wrapped up in their own thoughts or perhaps for some still half asleep, jarred out of their dreams by the call to breakfast. Once breakfast was served there started to be more chatter though somewhat subdued. Most of those at the table that morning were day or short section hikers. It was only me and the guy from Maine who were planning to do it all. The breakfast itself was delicious, something to really savour because it will be the last hot meal for me for a while going cookless as I do. People have asked why I don't carry a stove. The answer is that I'm not much of a cook at home so why try to become one on the trail. Besides, not having a stove saves a little weight as well as a good deal of time. There are plenty of pre-packaged foods to offer a hiker a wide variety of meals and Ramen noodles as well as oatmeal packets can be used with cold water.
After breakfast it was time to settle the bill, take the gear out to the van and load up. The trepidation and nervous energy began to build. Why this should be after already completing two long trails can only be attributed to the normal anxiety and excitement resulting from such an undertaking. We made two stops, one at Neels Gap and another at Horse Gap, before the remaining four of us were dumped at the Springer parking area. From there it's a one mile climb to the top where you find the official starting point of the Appalachian Trail on Springer Mountain. On the backside of the rocks there is a small shelf that holds the trail register. Logging in, I jotted down a few words about my hopes and how I was feeling. Then, the customary photo and a look at the bronze plaques that commemorate the trail's founding. There's supposed to be a view of the surounding countryside from here, but all I could see was a sheet of gray. Reversing direction, I passed going down those I had previously passed going up. My 2,181 mile journey had begun!
Upon returning to the parking area and then continuing north on the trail, I was surprised how often you walk alone after the initial crowding near Springer. There were periods of maybe an hour or more before coming across other hikers in front of me and then it was solitude once again. All around are the very first hints of spring---small green grasses, flower stems pushing up through the layer of leaves on the forest floor, tiny buds just starting to open on the branches of the trees. Yet everywhere there is a hush caused by the lowering gray clouds growing darker by the hour. By mid-afternoon the day is as dark as dusk and I walk as silently as possible hoping that my quiet passage would not disturb the heavens thus keeping the rain at bay. It wasn't until I had reached Woody Gap that the first drops began to fall. Attempting to reach the tent platforms at Lance Creek, I increased my pace and quickened my stride, but as the rain increased, I decided I had pushed my luck far enough. It was time to hunker down and make camp. A very wise choice as it turned out, for I had no sooner put up my tent than the deluge began, the storm hitting with enormous ferocity. Lightning crackled, thunder boomed and the rain pounded down.
It was only fifteen minutes into this downpour that I knew I was in trouble. So much water was falling that it was starting to build up and flow past my tent. I had to get back out there to save my tent from flooding. Armed with my small camp trowel and wearing only my underwear and running shoes I was back out in the elements, utterly drenched. Using stones from the fire ring, I quickly built a barrier around the front of my tent and then dug two small channels to divert the water on either side. The hasty construction job seemed to do the trick and once back inside, the tent stayed relatively dry. Quite miraculous really as it continued to rain heavily for the next eight hours. It was truly the worst storm I have ever witnessed in terms of rainfall and lightning strikes. I was to learn a few days later that this storm had spawned several tornadoes and killed 19 people in the surrounding area. And this was only my first day on the trail!
Appalachian Trail Commemorative Plaque
Springer Mountain, Georgia
Early Trail
Long Creek Falls
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