The overnight bus from Pensacola, Florida arrived in downtown Atlanta shortly after 7 a.m. My pickup time at the North Springs MARTA station was scheduled for 11 so I had four hours to try and find new hiking shoes, the pair I was wearing having done the last 800 miles of the Florida Trail. Using the service phone near the bus station, the lady I contacted informed me that there was a mall near the Dunwoody metro stop. I exited the station at Dunwoody and followed the signs that directed me to the mall. Once inside I found a Footlocker and bought a pair of black New Balance running shoes along with three pairs of socks. Sat on a bench just outside the shop and it was out with the old and on with the new. Always a great feeling to have a nice soft pair of socks caressing your toes and a new pair of shoes giving the proper support to your feet. Returning to the metro, I continued to North Springs to wait for my ride.
Right at the top of the hour I met Nature Boy, the driver from Dahlonega Hiker Hostel. He asked if I would mind waiting a bit longer because another hiker was supposed to be arriving at the station soon. Sure enough, fifteen minutes later, another Appalachian Trail hopeful emerged from the station with a pack on his back and a smile on his face.
On the way to Dahlonega we talked about the trail, what we'd be facing over the coming months and what our past experience has been. It's interesting how the fact that I'd done two long trails previous to this gave me instant credibility. People realize that you know what you're doing. The other guy from Maine was making his first go of it on the AT and was concerned about equipment choices, feeling he had brought too many things which added to a high pack weight. Certainly for first-timers there is an adjustment period finding out about just what you need and learning to live without all the rest. However, a few weeks into a thru-hike and that's pretty much taken care of. You have a good idea of what is truly necessary after that.
When we arrived in Dahlonega, we stopped at the local WalMart to buy any food or other items that we cared to get before hitting the trail tomorrow. I bought some things for lunch and dinner as well as enough vittles to get me through to the next resupply. Shopping done, it was on to the hostel where we were shown our rooms for the night. After settling in to one of the top bunks in the six-man bay, I went to the small assortment of books they had in a central cubby. Looking at the titles, I found a copy of "Into the Wild" and decided to have a read. I'd seen the film before, but was eager to see how it compared to the book. That's how I spent the rest of the day; reading, grabbing a bite to eat and something to drink now and then. By nightfall, I still hadn't finished, but I was close. I supposed I could finish the tragic ending in the morning before breakfast. In the meantime it was time to hit the hay. The reading had helped take my mind off of the beginning of my own hike, but as I lay in bed, I had trouble falling asleep, thinking instead of all that awaited me in the light of day.
Friday, July 29, 2011
Springer Mountain to Short of Lance Creek---April 15th
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
Short of Lance Creek to Chattahoochee Gap---April 16th
Last night a great torrential rain my first day on the trail.
My tent survived and I'm alive, at least it didn't hail.
Blood Mountain, Slaughter Creek---Just what have I begun?
The rain has ceased, the sky is blue and Lo!, the blessed sun.
The rain finally subsided around six. I snoozed for about an hour to try and make up for a semi-sleepless night before climbing out of the tent. During breakfast an Australian lady stopped by to see how I had weathered the storm. I showed her the improvised dam I had created and was happy to report that I'd got through fairly well considering the storm's severity and the massive amount of rain that had fallen. She on the other hand had not been so lucky. Her tent had been inundated and all her gear was wet. She must have been staying in the tent I saw in the swale at Dan Gap. Anyway, she was up early hoping to find a drier at Neels Gap.
While I began to pack up my gear, she continued down the trail. It was rather surprising to see a mouse jump out of my pack as the first items were being stuffed in the bottom. There wasn't any food there so the only thing I could figure is that it had used the pack as a safe haven during the worst of las night's torrent. More than welcome to it. Such a cute little thing with its white and brown markings. Finished packing, it was just a short jaunt to the camp at Lance Creek where other hikers were assessing the damage caused by the storm. It appeared to me as if the majority of those there had had flooding problems as well. Quite a miserable looking lot. To add insult to injury, one young couple had had their food taken by a bear at dawn. I was sorry for them, but it made me feel extremely fortunate. Is that wrong?
I caught up with the Aussie somewhere near Jarrard Gap and we were able to share some trail time and chat for a bit. I was extremely curious as to why a person from Down Under would fly half-way around the world to thru-hike the AT. She said she found out about the trail on the Internet, but was unsure of her mental or physical ability to actually complete it. To test herself, she had done a number of long hikes in Oz and some trails in Spain. Discovering a love for hiking and more confidence in her abilities along the way, she decided that she'd give the Appalachian Trail a go. She definitely wasn't your average Sheila.
I pushed on ahead on the long climb up to Blood Mountain and was rewarded with my first great views on this journey. Though still cold, the day was shaping up marvellously as the clouds had cleared and there was sunshine and blue skies. It was the perfect place for an extended snack break sitting on the rocks above the surrounding ridgelines.
On the descent to Neels Gap I met loads of weekend hikers and once there saw dozens of cyclists. The Walasi-Yi center is certainly a popular destination for recreational types. I was just happy they had a bathroom, which is one big difference from the Pacific Crest Trail that I've noticed in only a day and a half. Between the shelter privies and other bathroom facilities along the trail, the squat time in the woods is greatly reduced. Ha. I wasn't sure what to make of the "Shoe Tree", a large oak with a variety of shoes hanging from its branches. Did it represent victory or defeat? Were these northbounder boots tossed up on to the limbs signalling surrender already or were they southbounder footwear, a well-worn sacrifice to the tree gods for seeing them through this far; a new pair of shoes waiting for them in the Walasi-Yi center so they could finish in style? Maybe neither or maybe a little of both? Again, I'm not sure.
I passed a number of hikers climbing out of Tesnatee Gap. It seemed as if everyone and their dog were headed to Low Gap Shelter. When I arrived there the place was absolutely packed. There had to be over 50 people and at least 20 tents. Yikes! That was too much for me. I sat down on a fallen log, ate a quick meal and pushed on down the path. Another five miles and I was all alone at Chattahoochee Gap. Still a bit early in the day to stop hiking, but I'd packed my tent away wet and with the evening sun, if I set up now I was sure it would be dry by nightfall. Besides, there were other things that were a little damp that could use some dry time. Pitched in a little swale under a pine tree which effectively blocked the wind that was beginning to blow with increasing strength through the gap. When I lay my head down, it didn't take long before I was completely out. The sound of the stirring of the trees overhead ushering me into a blissful slumber.
Blood Mountain Shelter
Views from Blood Mountain
The Shoe Tree
Single Trekking Pole
Swallowtail Butterfly
My tent survived and I'm alive, at least it didn't hail.
Blood Mountain, Slaughter Creek---Just what have I begun?
The rain has ceased, the sky is blue and Lo!, the blessed sun.
The rain finally subsided around six. I snoozed for about an hour to try and make up for a semi-sleepless night before climbing out of the tent. During breakfast an Australian lady stopped by to see how I had weathered the storm. I showed her the improvised dam I had created and was happy to report that I'd got through fairly well considering the storm's severity and the massive amount of rain that had fallen. She on the other hand had not been so lucky. Her tent had been inundated and all her gear was wet. She must have been staying in the tent I saw in the swale at Dan Gap. Anyway, she was up early hoping to find a drier at Neels Gap.
While I began to pack up my gear, she continued down the trail. It was rather surprising to see a mouse jump out of my pack as the first items were being stuffed in the bottom. There wasn't any food there so the only thing I could figure is that it had used the pack as a safe haven during the worst of las night's torrent. More than welcome to it. Such a cute little thing with its white and brown markings. Finished packing, it was just a short jaunt to the camp at Lance Creek where other hikers were assessing the damage caused by the storm. It appeared to me as if the majority of those there had had flooding problems as well. Quite a miserable looking lot. To add insult to injury, one young couple had had their food taken by a bear at dawn. I was sorry for them, but it made me feel extremely fortunate. Is that wrong?
I caught up with the Aussie somewhere near Jarrard Gap and we were able to share some trail time and chat for a bit. I was extremely curious as to why a person from Down Under would fly half-way around the world to thru-hike the AT. She said she found out about the trail on the Internet, but was unsure of her mental or physical ability to actually complete it. To test herself, she had done a number of long hikes in Oz and some trails in Spain. Discovering a love for hiking and more confidence in her abilities along the way, she decided that she'd give the Appalachian Trail a go. She definitely wasn't your average Sheila.
I pushed on ahead on the long climb up to Blood Mountain and was rewarded with my first great views on this journey. Though still cold, the day was shaping up marvellously as the clouds had cleared and there was sunshine and blue skies. It was the perfect place for an extended snack break sitting on the rocks above the surrounding ridgelines.
On the descent to Neels Gap I met loads of weekend hikers and once there saw dozens of cyclists. The Walasi-Yi center is certainly a popular destination for recreational types. I was just happy they had a bathroom, which is one big difference from the Pacific Crest Trail that I've noticed in only a day and a half. Between the shelter privies and other bathroom facilities along the trail, the squat time in the woods is greatly reduced. Ha. I wasn't sure what to make of the "Shoe Tree", a large oak with a variety of shoes hanging from its branches. Did it represent victory or defeat? Were these northbounder boots tossed up on to the limbs signalling surrender already or were they southbounder footwear, a well-worn sacrifice to the tree gods for seeing them through this far; a new pair of shoes waiting for them in the Walasi-Yi center so they could finish in style? Maybe neither or maybe a little of both? Again, I'm not sure.
I passed a number of hikers climbing out of Tesnatee Gap. It seemed as if everyone and their dog were headed to Low Gap Shelter. When I arrived there the place was absolutely packed. There had to be over 50 people and at least 20 tents. Yikes! That was too much for me. I sat down on a fallen log, ate a quick meal and pushed on down the path. Another five miles and I was all alone at Chattahoochee Gap. Still a bit early in the day to stop hiking, but I'd packed my tent away wet and with the evening sun, if I set up now I was sure it would be dry by nightfall. Besides, there were other things that were a little damp that could use some dry time. Pitched in a little swale under a pine tree which effectively blocked the wind that was beginning to blow with increasing strength through the gap. When I lay my head down, it didn't take long before I was completely out. The sound of the stirring of the trees overhead ushering me into a blissful slumber.
Blood Mountain Shelter
Views from Blood Mountain
The Shoe Tree
Single Trekking Pole
Swallowtail Butterfly
Chattahoochee Gap to Campsite Near Blue Ridge Gap---April 17th
Kelly Knob and Cowart Gap, there are many ups and downs.
The gentle ground brings on the smiles, the steep brings on the frowns.
Wake up sleepy campers. Don't stay inside your tent.
The trail to you is calling and half the morning's spent.
I arose to a picture perfect day--- azure sky, bright sunshine and a little nip to the air to remind you that it is still spring in the mountains. With the trees void of leaves I could peer out and catch some lovely views of the surrounding landscape. How long this will last, I don't know. Possibly a few more weeks before the new leaves block out the sights and put me into "the green tunnel".
I came across my first instance of trail magic at Tray Gap. I saw the SUV and the people gathered around it, but thought it was probably somebody dropping off a group of hikers. I was just going to pass on by when one of the group happened to call me over with the clarion call of hikers, "Hey, trail magic!". Frankenfoot and his wife were the providers of a delightful smorgasbord including sausages, cheese, nuts, chocolates, pop tarts, chips and dip, sodas and more. Just help yourself. I stood around munching and listening to the idle conversation. The four guys were talking about how they'd started out at a ten-mile-a-day pace, but were now planning to up that to twelve or even fifteen. I had to smile inside, not because I hike much farther than that on a daily basis, but because they made it sound as if twelve miles was horribly difficult. Perhaps it was for them. Later in my journey I met a southbounder who was dying as he pulled into the shelter for the night and he had only done eight miles! I also heard Frankenfoot mention a female hiker, Snorkel, who had passed that way yesterday afternoon. She was attempting to set the women's AT unsupported record, having left Springer Mountain on April 15th. April 15th?! That's the same day I left, but I didn't remember seeing her. I was looking for some motivation on this trek and I believe I had just found it. I was going to try and catch this unknown hiker, but even if I couldn't, I would know what it was like to chase a record both physically and mentally. Feeling newly energized by this intriguing idea and the copious amount of food I'd just stuffed down my gullet, I left the trailside gathering, thanking them for their wonderful generosity and declaring that I was off to catch Snorkel. They all laughed thinking it was a good joke. Little did they realize how serious I was. My trailname is Will and I was going to earn it!
I pushed hard for the remainder of the day, driven by a newfound urgency. I'd wanted to resupply at Hiawassee, but after a brief stint at gaining a hitch, I pressed on. On that Sunday evening there was very little traffic and it was chancey at best to get there and back with the remaining daylight hours. What food I had left--- tortillas, starbursts, jelly beans and peanuts---would have to last me until Franklin.
Had a nice conversation with Deb out of Unicoi Gap while I was eating my late afternoon snack. She walks on the Appalachian Trail regularly on the weekends just to keep fit. I know if I had a National Scenic Trail in close proximity to my backyard, I'd try to take advantage of it as often as I could just like she does. A lot of hikers pulling up early at Plumorchard Gap Shelter, but I wanted to get in a few more miles before sunset, settling into the campsite beyond Blue Ridge Gap as the sun went down.
Shadow and Light
Tray Gap Trail Magic
An Open View
The gentle ground brings on the smiles, the steep brings on the frowns.
Wake up sleepy campers. Don't stay inside your tent.
The trail to you is calling and half the morning's spent.
I arose to a picture perfect day--- azure sky, bright sunshine and a little nip to the air to remind you that it is still spring in the mountains. With the trees void of leaves I could peer out and catch some lovely views of the surrounding landscape. How long this will last, I don't know. Possibly a few more weeks before the new leaves block out the sights and put me into "the green tunnel".
I came across my first instance of trail magic at Tray Gap. I saw the SUV and the people gathered around it, but thought it was probably somebody dropping off a group of hikers. I was just going to pass on by when one of the group happened to call me over with the clarion call of hikers, "Hey, trail magic!". Frankenfoot and his wife were the providers of a delightful smorgasbord including sausages, cheese, nuts, chocolates, pop tarts, chips and dip, sodas and more. Just help yourself. I stood around munching and listening to the idle conversation. The four guys were talking about how they'd started out at a ten-mile-a-day pace, but were now planning to up that to twelve or even fifteen. I had to smile inside, not because I hike much farther than that on a daily basis, but because they made it sound as if twelve miles was horribly difficult. Perhaps it was for them. Later in my journey I met a southbounder who was dying as he pulled into the shelter for the night and he had only done eight miles! I also heard Frankenfoot mention a female hiker, Snorkel, who had passed that way yesterday afternoon. She was attempting to set the women's AT unsupported record, having left Springer Mountain on April 15th. April 15th?! That's the same day I left, but I didn't remember seeing her. I was looking for some motivation on this trek and I believe I had just found it. I was going to try and catch this unknown hiker, but even if I couldn't, I would know what it was like to chase a record both physically and mentally. Feeling newly energized by this intriguing idea and the copious amount of food I'd just stuffed down my gullet, I left the trailside gathering, thanking them for their wonderful generosity and declaring that I was off to catch Snorkel. They all laughed thinking it was a good joke. Little did they realize how serious I was. My trailname is Will and I was going to earn it!
I pushed hard for the remainder of the day, driven by a newfound urgency. I'd wanted to resupply at Hiawassee, but after a brief stint at gaining a hitch, I pressed on. On that Sunday evening there was very little traffic and it was chancey at best to get there and back with the remaining daylight hours. What food I had left--- tortillas, starbursts, jelly beans and peanuts---would have to last me until Franklin.
Had a nice conversation with Deb out of Unicoi Gap while I was eating my late afternoon snack. She walks on the Appalachian Trail regularly on the weekends just to keep fit. I know if I had a National Scenic Trail in close proximity to my backyard, I'd try to take advantage of it as often as I could just like she does. A lot of hikers pulling up early at Plumorchard Gap Shelter, but I wanted to get in a few more miles before sunset, settling into the campsite beyond Blue Ridge Gap as the sun went down.
Shadow and Light
Tray Gap Trail Magic
An Open View
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Campsite Near Blue Ridge Gap to Winding Stair Gap---April 18th
Early on this morning I passed my first state line.
Goodbye to northern Georgia, hello to Caroline.
Coming out of Bearpen Gap a big laborious climb.
No problem getting to the top, just took a good long time.
Peanuts, Starbursts, jelly beans are all that now remain.
High time to go into a town and resupply again.
With an early rise, I arrived at the Georgia/North Carolina border at 8 this morning. Perfect excuse to drop the pack, take a few pics and snarf on breakfast tortillas. Although I was on the AT in Georgia for only three days before crossing the state line, the memory of these mountains will linger for a long time. Why? As Sade sings, "it's never as good as the first time". Georgia was my first experience on the AT, first climb, first descent, first storm, first trail magic, first meeting with other would-be thru-hikers, and though I didn't stay in one, my first time seeing what a shelter looked like. I suppose it can also be attributed to the thrill at the start of the journey before the familiarity of routine has set in.
A tenth of a mile later at Bly Gap, hikers were just getting a start to the day, some still crawling out of their tents while others were standing around rubbing sleep out of their eyes. Early mornings on the trail are a favourite time for me as I can generally be assured of walking undisturbed. Most of my best animal sightings occur during this time or during the waning hours of the day around dusk. It always makes my heart leap to surprise deer drinking from the small mountain streams.
One thing I like about the Appalachian Trail are the small wooden signs indicating the placename of where you're at. There's something very comforting about knowing where you are and how far it is to where you want to wind up. In my Thru-Hiker's Companion, I always look to see what names I should be looking for and try to calculate in my head approximately how long it will take me to get there. The strangest name so far was a side path called Chunky Gal Trail. How or why it earned this name is unknown to me, but I'm guessing there's a story there somewhere.
The steepest climb of the day was coming out of Bearpen Gap, one of those straight up the mountain kind that get the heart beating like a big bass drum, leave you winded in no time flat, and cause your calves to burn with the strain. Keep on pushing higher for with each passing step I know I'm getting closer to the top. Once at the top, I climb the stairs of an observation tower and marvel at the stunning views of rolling Appalachia all around me. As with any extraordinary spot along the trail, a great time to rest a bit while snapping photos and snacking.
The last of today's beauty spots was the area below Rock Gap that contains the Wasilik Poplar, the second largest poplar tree in the United States. It's well worth the half-mile trek down a side trail to see even though it is now dead. On the descent you pass a lovely patch of greenery with a bubbling mini-cascade convenient for topping off any empty water bottles. Once in the grove it doesn't take much imagination to envision what the tree looked like in its leafy grandeur. One of the forest's silent sentinels completing its long-time watch.
By the time I got back on the AT it was growing late and in my efforts to race the sun, I blew past Wallace Gap where I had hoped to find a place to camp. As the light grew dimmer and dimmer, I was literally jogging down the trail and with the tiniest flicker of remaining light I pulled into Winding Stair Gap, the site of tomorrow's hitch. Finding a nice flat spot tucked away in some rhododendron bushes on the side hill above the trail, I donned my headlamp and proceeded to make camp. Up at 7 a.m. in camp at 9 p.m., a mondo day of long miles, a few climbs, but mostly gentle grade. Snug in my sleeping bag, I reviewed the day's events in my mind. As I grew sleepier, approaching the boundary of unconsciousness, I recalled the guy who passed me on the trail today like I was standing still. Who was that masked man?!
Georgia/North Carolina Border
Gentle Terrain
Steeper Grade
Viewpoint
Rolling Hills of Appalachia
Babbling Brook
The Wasilik Poplar
Racing the Sun
Goodbye to northern Georgia, hello to Caroline.
Coming out of Bearpen Gap a big laborious climb.
No problem getting to the top, just took a good long time.
Peanuts, Starbursts, jelly beans are all that now remain.
High time to go into a town and resupply again.
With an early rise, I arrived at the Georgia/North Carolina border at 8 this morning. Perfect excuse to drop the pack, take a few pics and snarf on breakfast tortillas. Although I was on the AT in Georgia for only three days before crossing the state line, the memory of these mountains will linger for a long time. Why? As Sade sings, "it's never as good as the first time". Georgia was my first experience on the AT, first climb, first descent, first storm, first trail magic, first meeting with other would-be thru-hikers, and though I didn't stay in one, my first time seeing what a shelter looked like. I suppose it can also be attributed to the thrill at the start of the journey before the familiarity of routine has set in.
A tenth of a mile later at Bly Gap, hikers were just getting a start to the day, some still crawling out of their tents while others were standing around rubbing sleep out of their eyes. Early mornings on the trail are a favourite time for me as I can generally be assured of walking undisturbed. Most of my best animal sightings occur during this time or during the waning hours of the day around dusk. It always makes my heart leap to surprise deer drinking from the small mountain streams.
One thing I like about the Appalachian Trail are the small wooden signs indicating the placename of where you're at. There's something very comforting about knowing where you are and how far it is to where you want to wind up. In my Thru-Hiker's Companion, I always look to see what names I should be looking for and try to calculate in my head approximately how long it will take me to get there. The strangest name so far was a side path called Chunky Gal Trail. How or why it earned this name is unknown to me, but I'm guessing there's a story there somewhere.
The steepest climb of the day was coming out of Bearpen Gap, one of those straight up the mountain kind that get the heart beating like a big bass drum, leave you winded in no time flat, and cause your calves to burn with the strain. Keep on pushing higher for with each passing step I know I'm getting closer to the top. Once at the top, I climb the stairs of an observation tower and marvel at the stunning views of rolling Appalachia all around me. As with any extraordinary spot along the trail, a great time to rest a bit while snapping photos and snacking.
The last of today's beauty spots was the area below Rock Gap that contains the Wasilik Poplar, the second largest poplar tree in the United States. It's well worth the half-mile trek down a side trail to see even though it is now dead. On the descent you pass a lovely patch of greenery with a bubbling mini-cascade convenient for topping off any empty water bottles. Once in the grove it doesn't take much imagination to envision what the tree looked like in its leafy grandeur. One of the forest's silent sentinels completing its long-time watch.
By the time I got back on the AT it was growing late and in my efforts to race the sun, I blew past Wallace Gap where I had hoped to find a place to camp. As the light grew dimmer and dimmer, I was literally jogging down the trail and with the tiniest flicker of remaining light I pulled into Winding Stair Gap, the site of tomorrow's hitch. Finding a nice flat spot tucked away in some rhododendron bushes on the side hill above the trail, I donned my headlamp and proceeded to make camp. Up at 7 a.m. in camp at 9 p.m., a mondo day of long miles, a few climbs, but mostly gentle grade. Snug in my sleeping bag, I reviewed the day's events in my mind. As I grew sleepier, approaching the boundary of unconsciousness, I recalled the guy who passed me on the trail today like I was standing still. Who was that masked man?!
Georgia/North Carolina Border
Gentle Terrain
Steeper Grade
Viewpoint
Rolling Hills of Appalachia
Babbling Brook
The Wasilik Poplar
Racing the Sun
Winding Stair Gap to Wesser Bald Observation Tower---April 19th
The hitch to Franklin's easy. Dang right! Yeah, that's for sure.
With the help of a family roofin' man and a coffee connoisseur
.
Up at the crack of dawn to be sure to be down at the road for the hitch at 7 a.m. I'm hoping to get a lift from some kind soul going to work this morning. A few minutes with my thumb out and a white pickup passes me by. A minute later I see it coming back up the road in the opposite direction and I knew I had my ride. The driver was part of a family roofing business (Dad was the owner) and since he was going through Franklin anyhow, he reckoned he ought to take me there too. Right kindly of you, mister. Because of all the severe weather recently, business was hopping. Everybody was out on calls and working OT to try and answer them all. Get while the getting's good.
With door to door service, he dropped me off right in front of the entrance to Shoney's. Wolfing down platefuls of breakfast food by 7:30, library at 9, outfitters at 10, supermarket resupply at 10:30, out on the highway at the edge of town by 11, just like clockwork. Ten minutes of trying my luck and a young man in a four door sedan pulls over. He works as an associate in a coffee co-op. Now I'm not a coffee drinker at all, but he was able to teach me a thing or two about the enterprise on our short trip to the trailhead. I especially liked the information about how the co-op works with local growers in third world countries so that both parties benefit from the endeavor. Good beans!
Back at Winding Stair Gap I stuck my head under a pipe that was shooting out spring water by the gallon and as the cold water ran over my hair and down my back I reflected on how lucky/blessed I'd been with a perfect resupply and turnaround. Elated, I gulped down a couple of liters of the liquid refreshment, topped off my bottle and returned to the trail.
I met a Swedish guy on the last part of the paved walk that led to Wayah Lookout and he had the same opinion as me about the two obese people walking past us to their car in the parking area. With the obesity problem at epidemic proportions in the U.S. and growing ever larger in other nations, why not move that parking lot a little further down the hill. Heck, at least they were out getting a (very) little excercise. Better that than sitting in the recliner at home. Felt sorry for the Swede when he told me he probably wouldn't be able to finish the entire trail before he had to go home. I asked him why and he told me he was hiking with his American friends who were averaging only 12 miles per day. He needed to average 20 to complete a thru-hike before his return flight. I wondered aloud if his friends were aware of this and he said they were, but were unwilling to push further, hike faster or stay on the trail longer. He really wanted to finish but if he were to do it, it would mean abandoning his friends and striking out on his own. I think he felt a little trapped and he'd have to make a tough decision in the very near future.
One thing I learned about my own hiking ability today is that I'm a strong climber compared to most others. I passed a good portion of hikers on the ascents today. To have legs shaped by the longer climbs of the Pacific Crest Trail last summer is a huge advantage. Yes, it's true that the Appalchian Trail has more ups and downs, but I know they are of much shorter duration than the 7,000 feet in elevation gain coming out of Saied Valley in Northern California. With that in mind I try to reach the tops without stopping.
I considered stopping at Cold Spring Shelter, but it was buzzing with flies so it wasn't a difficult decision to continue. Another evening of racing the sun. Would it set before I reached Wesser Bald Observation Tower or would I be standing on top taking pictures as it dipped below mountains on the horizon? An extremely close race and one that ended in a photo finish! I won, I won, I won and I've got the picture to prove it. Rolling ridgelines stretching out before me, the last rising to meet the orange sky. As the night closed in, I set up my tent on a small grassy patch at the tower's base. A cold wind began to blow and a nearly full moon rose slowly bathing the ground and trees in soft pale light.
Swinging Lick (Carved by some joker to look like Dick) Gap
Wayah Bald Lookout
Fire Ring at Trailside Camp
Rolling Ridgelines at Sunset
Moonlight and Branches
With the help of a family roofin' man and a coffee connoisseur
.Up at the crack of dawn to be sure to be down at the road for the hitch at 7 a.m. I'm hoping to get a lift from some kind soul going to work this morning. A few minutes with my thumb out and a white pickup passes me by. A minute later I see it coming back up the road in the opposite direction and I knew I had my ride. The driver was part of a family roofing business (Dad was the owner) and since he was going through Franklin anyhow, he reckoned he ought to take me there too. Right kindly of you, mister. Because of all the severe weather recently, business was hopping. Everybody was out on calls and working OT to try and answer them all. Get while the getting's good.
With door to door service, he dropped me off right in front of the entrance to Shoney's. Wolfing down platefuls of breakfast food by 7:30, library at 9, outfitters at 10, supermarket resupply at 10:30, out on the highway at the edge of town by 11, just like clockwork. Ten minutes of trying my luck and a young man in a four door sedan pulls over. He works as an associate in a coffee co-op. Now I'm not a coffee drinker at all, but he was able to teach me a thing or two about the enterprise on our short trip to the trailhead. I especially liked the information about how the co-op works with local growers in third world countries so that both parties benefit from the endeavor. Good beans!
Back at Winding Stair Gap I stuck my head under a pipe that was shooting out spring water by the gallon and as the cold water ran over my hair and down my back I reflected on how lucky/blessed I'd been with a perfect resupply and turnaround. Elated, I gulped down a couple of liters of the liquid refreshment, topped off my bottle and returned to the trail.
I met a Swedish guy on the last part of the paved walk that led to Wayah Lookout and he had the same opinion as me about the two obese people walking past us to their car in the parking area. With the obesity problem at epidemic proportions in the U.S. and growing ever larger in other nations, why not move that parking lot a little further down the hill. Heck, at least they were out getting a (very) little excercise. Better that than sitting in the recliner at home. Felt sorry for the Swede when he told me he probably wouldn't be able to finish the entire trail before he had to go home. I asked him why and he told me he was hiking with his American friends who were averaging only 12 miles per day. He needed to average 20 to complete a thru-hike before his return flight. I wondered aloud if his friends were aware of this and he said they were, but were unwilling to push further, hike faster or stay on the trail longer. He really wanted to finish but if he were to do it, it would mean abandoning his friends and striking out on his own. I think he felt a little trapped and he'd have to make a tough decision in the very near future.
One thing I learned about my own hiking ability today is that I'm a strong climber compared to most others. I passed a good portion of hikers on the ascents today. To have legs shaped by the longer climbs of the Pacific Crest Trail last summer is a huge advantage. Yes, it's true that the Appalchian Trail has more ups and downs, but I know they are of much shorter duration than the 7,000 feet in elevation gain coming out of Saied Valley in Northern California. With that in mind I try to reach the tops without stopping.
I considered stopping at Cold Spring Shelter, but it was buzzing with flies so it wasn't a difficult decision to continue. Another evening of racing the sun. Would it set before I reached Wesser Bald Observation Tower or would I be standing on top taking pictures as it dipped below mountains on the horizon? An extremely close race and one that ended in a photo finish! I won, I won, I won and I've got the picture to prove it. Rolling ridgelines stretching out before me, the last rising to meet the orange sky. As the night closed in, I set up my tent on a small grassy patch at the tower's base. A cold wind began to blow and a nearly full moon rose slowly bathing the ground and trees in soft pale light.
Swinging Lick (Carved by some joker to look like Dick) Gap
Wayah Bald Lookout
Fire Ring at Trailside Camp
Rolling Ridgelines at Sunset
Moonlight and Branches
Wesser Bald Observation Tower to Cody Gap---April 20th
The path has turned to puddles and tiny muddy creeks.
The only ones out walking are A.T. hiking freaks.
Tender buds of flowers and light-green leafy shoots.
Just make sure that you don't trip on twisted, gnarly roots.
It started raining right after I broke camp. No real downpour but a steady fall of good-sized drops. I passed Wesser Bald Shelter, but there was nobody there. Met only one hiker on the trail because the rest, as I would soon discover, were hunkered down at the Nantahala Outdoor Center (NOC). There were about a dozen or so hikers milling around. Some were opening resupply boxes they'd sent to this location, others were in the shop looking to purchase an essential item or two, while another few were simply biding their time waiting for the rain to let up. I took the opportunity to grab a snack and find out what their plans were. Most of those I spoke with were hoping to make it to Sassafras Gap Shelter. With that in mind, I definitely wasn't going to stay there tonight. Sounded as if it would get very crowded. Besides, I really hadn't planned to stay in shelters anyway, avoiding them if I could. One section on Whiteblaze.net was a survey of past thru-hikers asking them what they would do differently if they had the chance to do the trail again. Several responded that they would spend less time in the shelters for a variety of reasons. I took that to heart and have found plenty of places just off the trail that are more than suitable for my little tent.
The rain tapered off at 11 a.m. and I was hoofing it up away from the NOC before the rest of the groups. There were a good number of long, steep climbs today. Raisins, a young asian hiker who gained his trailname by starting at Springer with four pounds of raisins in his pack, challenged me on a couple of them. He attacked the climbs with speed, passing me with little problem, but it was only a matter of time before I caught and passed him as he had stopped to rest and catch his breath. A bit of leapfrogging ensued in the remainder of the afternoon before we met again at some picnic tables at Stecoah Gap. Snacking again, we had a chance to talk about doing thirty mile days, which I thought he was more than capable of. He passed me again on the uphill out of Sweetwater Gap, but stopped for the day at Brown Fork Gap Shelter, a pre-arranged place to meet other hikers he had fallen in with and today had far out-paced. I went three miles further to a camp at Cody Gap, where I met two older section hikers out of upstate New York who were enjoying the last few days of a week-long trek. While chewing the fat with them, five more hikers arrived at differing times, two couples and a lone traveler. Time to stake claim to my piece of flat ground. Huddling in my tent I was hoping it wouldn't rain and that the bears would stay away.
Gray and Purple Dawn
Turtle and Trekker
The only ones out walking are A.T. hiking freaks.
Tender buds of flowers and light-green leafy shoots.
Just make sure that you don't trip on twisted, gnarly roots.
It started raining right after I broke camp. No real downpour but a steady fall of good-sized drops. I passed Wesser Bald Shelter, but there was nobody there. Met only one hiker on the trail because the rest, as I would soon discover, were hunkered down at the Nantahala Outdoor Center (NOC). There were about a dozen or so hikers milling around. Some were opening resupply boxes they'd sent to this location, others were in the shop looking to purchase an essential item or two, while another few were simply biding their time waiting for the rain to let up. I took the opportunity to grab a snack and find out what their plans were. Most of those I spoke with were hoping to make it to Sassafras Gap Shelter. With that in mind, I definitely wasn't going to stay there tonight. Sounded as if it would get very crowded. Besides, I really hadn't planned to stay in shelters anyway, avoiding them if I could. One section on Whiteblaze.net was a survey of past thru-hikers asking them what they would do differently if they had the chance to do the trail again. Several responded that they would spend less time in the shelters for a variety of reasons. I took that to heart and have found plenty of places just off the trail that are more than suitable for my little tent.
The rain tapered off at 11 a.m. and I was hoofing it up away from the NOC before the rest of the groups. There were a good number of long, steep climbs today. Raisins, a young asian hiker who gained his trailname by starting at Springer with four pounds of raisins in his pack, challenged me on a couple of them. He attacked the climbs with speed, passing me with little problem, but it was only a matter of time before I caught and passed him as he had stopped to rest and catch his breath. A bit of leapfrogging ensued in the remainder of the afternoon before we met again at some picnic tables at Stecoah Gap. Snacking again, we had a chance to talk about doing thirty mile days, which I thought he was more than capable of. He passed me again on the uphill out of Sweetwater Gap, but stopped for the day at Brown Fork Gap Shelter, a pre-arranged place to meet other hikers he had fallen in with and today had far out-paced. I went three miles further to a camp at Cody Gap, where I met two older section hikers out of upstate New York who were enjoying the last few days of a week-long trek. While chewing the fat with them, five more hikers arrived at differing times, two couples and a lone traveler. Time to stake claim to my piece of flat ground. Huddling in my tent I was hoping it wouldn't rain and that the bears would stay away.
Gray and Purple Dawn
Turtle and Trekker
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