Boy have I got a lot to share with you all. Since I left you all at Hot Springs, I've gone almost 200 miles to Damascus, VA, where I am writing to you now. I've seen weather of all sorts, and have met some awesome new people. I got out of Hot Springs later in the day to a shelter that was missing floorboards between the sleeping spots, which was a shame, because we couldn't squeeze more people in since it was misty and rainy that night.
The day after Hot Springs, I went 0.6 miles off the trail to a hostel where I had sent myself a dropbox. I went with some other people and had lunch at the cafe connected to it. It was a nice place, but we still had farther to go. Thankfully, they gave us a ride back onto the trail so we wouldn't have to walk back. From there, we were greeted by thunderstorms and then really cool views from an open, rocky ridgeline (lots of dramatic clouds and sunbeams reminiscent of the opening of The Lion King). The next day, we sloshed through deep mud but beautiful weather to Sam's gap, where we got picked up by the wonderful Miss Janet, who lets hikers stay at her house in Erwin, TN, and lets them slackpack from points on the trail (holds our packs for us as well as dropping us off and picking us up at the end of the day). Staying with her was enjoyable because she knows so much about the trail, is very helpful and sweet, and loves to make community dinners, which we indulged in every night. She took us downtown for resupplies and has a lot of great stories which she told us (if you meet the author of the AT Guide "Awol", ask him about breaking into houses for a dropbox, haha). The longest day we slackpacked was almost 25 miles, which sure was great without our packs. Because she's such an integral part of the trail, we nicknamed her "The Oracle".
One thing I really like about the trail is the culture, and I mean that regardless of age, nationality, or upbringing, everyone seems to be on the same page because we are all accomplishing the same thing. Everyone seems to be more honest about relationships and things they've
had to learn the hard way, like there's a sense of forgiveness and
turning the page that the trail and wilderness brings. People seem to be open to more things, like it's easier to talk to someone much older than me and to share musical tastes on a guitar being shared around. One good example of this is when some people from my group tried starting a thing called "LC Bands", where one can choose to wear either a red bracelet (symbolizing that they are already in a relationship or not looking for one), a yellow one (they are looking for something more long term), or a green one (they are "single and ready to mingle"). It was pretty entertaining seeing them selling the idea to people and noticing how many people they got to catch on, based on who agreed to let them tie a bracelet onto their wrist.
From there, we hiked to the base of Roan Mountain, and were greeted the next day by wind and rain. The shelter we stayed at was an old barn converted into a shelter and was probably the coolest I've stayed at so far. Unfortunately, the next two days were solid rain and I could certainly see a drop in moral from myself and the rest of my group. Everyone's stuff was soaked, and most people were getting blisters on their feet and strap sores on their shoulders because of it. We were sliding on wet rocks and roots all day, and were craving a warm bed and a place to dry our stuff. Fortunately, our prayers were answered when a road came up with a hostel in each direction. From there, our group awkwardly split, but I was grateful to find a cheap bunkhouse owned by a man named Bob Peoples, who was really cool to talk to because he's so involved in trail maintenance. He hosts an event after Trail Days (a hiker event in Damascus from May 15-17) called Hardcore, where hikers volunteer to do trail maintenance, and he drops you back onto the trail from wherever you came off. Since I'll be far above Damascus during then, I think I'll be taking advantage of that.
The last couple of days have been great weather, and I've been in high spirits looking forward to Damascus. For those who aren't familiar, Damascus is the epitome of a trail town, with outfitters, hostels, and restaurants with hiker deals galore. I'm definitely looking forward to staying here today and tomorrow. I'm also happy because I passed into my fourth state today--which is Virginia! So look out Lauren and Netty, I'll be seeing you guys soon! As for the rest of you, I'm thinking of you as well, and I'll be filling you in when I can. I'll be posting some pictures and videos soon, so be on the lookout for that!
Saturday, April 18, 2015
Monday, April 6, 2015
On top of Ol' Smokey
Hey everyone! So I rolled into Hot Springs yesterday to make it to an Easter service, and have been hanging out since then. It's definitely a hiker-friendly town (the trail actually goes through downtown), and it has been my favorite stay so far. I started 8 miles from Hot Springs (which I did in about 2 hours, thanks to caffeine drink mix), and made it just in time for a service at the first baptist church in town (ironically next door to the presbyterian church). Despite cleaning up a bit and changing into my least stinky clothes, it finally dawned on me how badly I smell. It took a lot for me not to be ashamed of my odor at the church, trying to remember that God cares about the heart, and not so much the stench. After the service, I reunited and hung out with old hiking buddies (including Uncle Roj who I met my first day, he really caught up!) at the Spring Creek Tavern. I barely finished an 18 ounce hiking burger, and then camped in town (which they let thru-hikers do).
Rewinding a couple of days, I left Fontana Village and entered the Smokies last Sunday, narrowly missing a snowstorm that hit the day before (other hikers I met had to go through about half a foot of snow, which mostly melted before my arrival). A note about Fontana: I obviously couldn't post this while still there, but we found it to be very expensive and somewhat of a trap for hikers. The frustrating part is that it is so convenient for hikers about to enter the Smokies, and they are hence able to have the upper hand. It was relaxing, but I'm glad to be out. The first night in the Smokies was cold and windy, and because the park requires people to stay in shelters unless there's absolutely no room, we squeezed more than twenty people into a 12 person shelter. The next day, I hiked a strenuous 15 miles to the next shelter, due to the mud. If you know what it's like exerting the extra energy to walk on sand rather than stable ground, you can understand what hiking 15 miles through mostly mud was like. The next day, I started early to make it to Clingman's Dome in morning light. The weather was perfectly clear, and it was probably the best view I've ever seen in my life (if you know how much I've hiked, that's saying a lot). I also entered the canadian zone, which is made up of a unique spruce-fir forest (reminded me of the Adirondacks). There was still some ice on the trail (better that than mud in my opinion), so it was slower going, but I was already enjoying the scenery anyways.
Later that day, I received trail magic at Newfound Gap and hitched down to Gatlinburg. I'd heard a lot about the city (that it's tourist central), and I can say that it was definitely a shock compared to being in the woods for a long time. All of the t-shirt, fudge, and trinket shops reminded me of the Jersey shore, minus the ocean. One characteristic thing about Gatlinburg is that there are numerous moonshine bars that apparently offer free samples, so from what I could see, one could potentially get drunk for free. I did fill up on dip and hot sauce samples at a cooking store, though. I shared a room with some other thru-hikers and hitched back up the next morning. They are called the fantastic four, and one carries a travel guitar and another carries a melodica (look it up, it's hard to describe). They're writing a book about their adventures, and they play music at open mics and on street sides (apparently making decent money).
After making it out of the Smokies, I stayed at a shelter with a deformed floor (there was some shifting toward the center that night), and it thunderstormed, which made for quite a show. The next day, I received trail magic on top of Max Patch, which was originally cleared for cattle, and looks just like the background on a Windows computer. It was clear and beautiful, but the windchill was brutally cold. There was a family trying to fly a kite, but it kept trying to escape from them. I camped right before Hot Springs that night. I'll probably put in 10 miles later today, and will be picking up my first dropbox from the Hemlock Hollow Inn the next day. I feel like I am starting to get into the groove of the trail more, and I'm starting to recognize more names and faces. I feel like I'm part of a close knit community. Of course, the feeling is almost instantaneous whenever one walks into a hiker hostel, but hey, that's the trail. I'm gonna hike on, but I'll fill you in about 2 weeks from now!
Rewinding a couple of days, I left Fontana Village and entered the Smokies last Sunday, narrowly missing a snowstorm that hit the day before (other hikers I met had to go through about half a foot of snow, which mostly melted before my arrival). A note about Fontana: I obviously couldn't post this while still there, but we found it to be very expensive and somewhat of a trap for hikers. The frustrating part is that it is so convenient for hikers about to enter the Smokies, and they are hence able to have the upper hand. It was relaxing, but I'm glad to be out. The first night in the Smokies was cold and windy, and because the park requires people to stay in shelters unless there's absolutely no room, we squeezed more than twenty people into a 12 person shelter. The next day, I hiked a strenuous 15 miles to the next shelter, due to the mud. If you know what it's like exerting the extra energy to walk on sand rather than stable ground, you can understand what hiking 15 miles through mostly mud was like. The next day, I started early to make it to Clingman's Dome in morning light. The weather was perfectly clear, and it was probably the best view I've ever seen in my life (if you know how much I've hiked, that's saying a lot). I also entered the canadian zone, which is made up of a unique spruce-fir forest (reminded me of the Adirondacks). There was still some ice on the trail (better that than mud in my opinion), so it was slower going, but I was already enjoying the scenery anyways.
Later that day, I received trail magic at Newfound Gap and hitched down to Gatlinburg. I'd heard a lot about the city (that it's tourist central), and I can say that it was definitely a shock compared to being in the woods for a long time. All of the t-shirt, fudge, and trinket shops reminded me of the Jersey shore, minus the ocean. One characteristic thing about Gatlinburg is that there are numerous moonshine bars that apparently offer free samples, so from what I could see, one could potentially get drunk for free. I did fill up on dip and hot sauce samples at a cooking store, though. I shared a room with some other thru-hikers and hitched back up the next morning. They are called the fantastic four, and one carries a travel guitar and another carries a melodica (look it up, it's hard to describe). They're writing a book about their adventures, and they play music at open mics and on street sides (apparently making decent money).
After making it out of the Smokies, I stayed at a shelter with a deformed floor (there was some shifting toward the center that night), and it thunderstormed, which made for quite a show. The next day, I received trail magic on top of Max Patch, which was originally cleared for cattle, and looks just like the background on a Windows computer. It was clear and beautiful, but the windchill was brutally cold. There was a family trying to fly a kite, but it kept trying to escape from them. I camped right before Hot Springs that night. I'll probably put in 10 miles later today, and will be picking up my first dropbox from the Hemlock Hollow Inn the next day. I feel like I am starting to get into the groove of the trail more, and I'm starting to recognize more names and faces. I feel like I'm part of a close knit community. Of course, the feeling is almost instantaneous whenever one walks into a hiker hostel, but hey, that's the trail. I'm gonna hike on, but I'll fill you in about 2 weeks from now!
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