Day: 28

Day mileage: 19.5

AT total mileage: 402.2

Time: 7.5 hours 

--

I wandered outside in the middle of the night to look at the stars, and was blown away by the spectacular show of light from millions of miles away glistening in the sky. The interior of the barn was absolutely pitch black, so the change in light was even more shocking. I'm not sure where the moon has been hanging out, as I'm pretty sure the new moon has come and gone, but it was a perfectly clear sky with immeasurable stars looking back at me. Watching the stars is one of my favorite parts of being on the trail. 

The overnight occupants of the barn started waking up around 6:30, and I got up about a half hour later. Whitey and I used the opportunity of being in the barn to each eat 'breakfast in bed', or without leaving our respective sleeping bags. I started my hike at 8 on the dot, and was greeted with some good climbing to get my leg muscles warmed up. Instead of listening to my pre-selected music or audiobooks on my iPod, I switched it over to FM radio and spent the majority of my morning listening to NPR. It's quite strange to have not read a newspaper headline or seen a news program on television in almost a month now... It almost makes me nervous of what I may have missed, although I'm sure that anything huge would be circulated amongst connected hikers. 

A 1,000' climb to the top of Hump Mountain Bald would have netted some gorgeous views, had there not been a massive fog that moved in. I summited the mile-high bald and began descending as a beautiful thing happened, two masses of fog on each side of the mountain rushed around it, crashing into each other and closing me in like two dark curtains. It's tough to explain without a visual, but it was quite amazing to watch. I got down off the bald and began a very long descent through foggy, rocky, New England type terrain. A few miles down the trail after coming across Doll Flats, I passed a sign marking the final (of very many) departures from North Carolina. From this point on we'll be solely in Tennessee, with another 70 miles to the Virginia border. Continuing down from Doll Flats, I came across a road crossing at US 19 which gave hikers the opportunity to hitchhike into Roan Mtn, TN or Elk Park, NC. Having all the supplies I need, I crossed the four-lane highway and continued onto the Appalachian Trail where it picked up across the road. Some easy uphills crossing over more than a few streams, brought the trail into some great open fields where agricultural redevelopment is underway to help protect the Golden Winged Warbler bird. Interesting stuff, gorgeous scenery. The trail turned onto what appears to be old Jeep roads for a mile or so before ducking back into the woods. The miles flew by, as the weather is finally beautiful again after the fog burned off, with temperatures in the mid-60s and scattered clouds against brilliant blue skies. 

I walked alongside a large river for a while, passing by locals who were escaping from life with loved ones and family members to sit by the rushing water. The trail then turned away and began a long and gradual uphill climb to the 400th mile of trail, and ultimately the Mountaineer Shelter. I passed by a few more waterfalls, including one that was 20 feet or so tall, before coming to the relatively newly constructed shelter. This is the first 'triple decker' I've come across, with three individual levels of space for hikers to sleep on. Despite the large number of hikers from Overmountain Shelter that were aiming to stay here (18 miles between the two shelters) there was nobody spending the night yet!  I hesitated to leave, but continued another mile down the trail to camp at a site alongside a river with Whitey and Chili as we had discussed earlier in the day. As they set up camp (I'm going 'cowboy' again now that the weather is nicer) many hikers continued past us, saying they were going to get a few more miles in while the sun was up and weather was nice. I don't blame them- it'd be a great and easy day to push a 20+ mile hike. Tiptoe and Kenny from So. NH also hiked by, and doubled back to camp with us after I informed them there was plenty of room. 

A good dinner around a blazing campfire led to conversations of hiking, work, and life in general. Plans for tomorrow were made, which for me will include a 15 mile hike to a small hostel just outside Hampton, TN. A small $5 donation is recommended in exchange for a bunk to sleep in, warm shower, and shuttle ride into town for food. I don't need any groceries, but am secretly yearning a cheeseburger from the McDonald's in town. All in all it should be an easy day. 

As dusk passed us by and our world became dark, the fire burned down and everyone has retired to their tents. I will again spend tonight in just my sleeping bag under a perfectly clear sky painted with millions of stars.

And yes, those satellites are still circling by.

Day: 27

Day mileage: 15

AT total mileage: 383.7

Time: 6.5 hours 

--

Last night's most challenging moment was when I had to pee around 2 am. In a tent or normal shelter this isn't a huge issue, but I was in a bunk-style section of the small shelter. Sharing a 4x6' bunk with Soleil, each of us with an inflatable air mattress and our sleeping bags, making it very difficult for me to get out of my bag and down the ladder without waking her up.  Regardless, with my LED headlamp turned to the red light setting, designed to not wake others up, I pulled it off and got back into bed to finish my night's sleep.  The people-crammed shelter woke up around 7 and everyone hopped up to get a start on the day while the weather wasn't horrible. I'm not sure if any severe storms came through last night, but there was certainly heavy precipitation and wind throughout the night. 

I hit the trail around 8 am, and climbed out of the plot of land the shelter was built on. The plan for today was to summit Roan Mountain, elevation 6,200 feet, despite the threat of continued bad weather. Interestingly enough, Roan will be the highest mountain the Appalachian Trail will climb until it traverses Mount Washington in New Hampshire. The first three miles of trail today included a rather steep climb at one point, then dropping down to Hughes Gap Road before beginning the four mile, two thousand foot climb up to the summit of Roan. The first half of the ascent was comprised of great switchbacks in a wooded mountain forest with some incredibly strong occasional gusts of wind. There was a point about half way up the mountain when I crossed above cloud cover, with winds picking up, precipitation coming and going, and temperatures dropping. The surroundings also changed at this point with the trail becoming steeper and more interestingly, the trees returned to the Pacific Northwest feel with everything cold, damp, and mossy. The fog was blowing through, and it took another hour of climbing to reach the top of the mountain.  As the trail crested the summit, it opened up to a massive plateau. Many hikers continued on to the Roan High Knob Shelter, but I turned into the 50+ mph winds to explore the open field. Having read about it beforehand, I knew that this large opening once was home to a top of the line hotel in the late 19th century. Literally bracing myself against the wind with a historical sign post, I was able to read about the 'Luxurious Cloudland Hotel' which crowned Roan Mountain for about 60 years before it was disassembled and the interior pieces sold off.  Despite the wind that tore my hat off my head, it was amazing to stand there and imagine a building once standing proud atop this mountain. 

Only able to withstand the cold for 10 minutes or so, taking photographs and even a video of the area, I headed a mile down to the mountain's shelter. The Roan High Knob Shelter is the highest shelter on the entire trail, and is a fully enclosed building with a complete second floor to keep hikers out of the oftentimes harsh elements. I ate lunch there with many of the hikers from last night's shelter including Aquaman, Tiptoes, Soleil, JPEG, Achilles, and Whitey.  We were also joined by Einstein and his dog 'Babygirl'. Einstein is likely a homeless hiker along the same lines as the infamous Carver, classified under a title I've created called 'Perma-Hiker' short for 'permanent-hiker' (this word has actually caught on, and I've heard other hikers using it). We ate lunch with the door to the shelter closed, protected from the winds and rain. I hit the trail about half an hour later and enjoyed a rather wet but easy downhill to a road crossing 1,000 feet below. During the descent I passed under the cloud cover, and was protected from the wind via the back side of the mountain. Right before the lowest point in the gap there was a cooler of trail magic for hikers including pretzels, clementines, and white chocolate raisin cookies... All of which were delicious. Tigger & I left a thank you note in the cooler before continuing on. 

The next few miles of the Trail could be some of the most challenging I've hiked this far, not due to elevation gain, but due to weather. Four miles of the A.T. cross over the completely exposed ridges of several bald mountains, putting me up against the correctly forecasted 'gale force winds'. I spent these miles walking with both trekking poles pressed downwind of me in an attempt to keep my body vertical. I kid you not, the wind was blowing me sideways and almost entirely off the trail. The sheer volume of my backpack was large enough to catch the wind and toss me around without much effort. It took a lot of work on my part to stay both vertical and on track... It was exhausting. After these miles the trail climbed up to higher balds still exposed to wind, although to a lesser degree. Eventually the trail turned into the protection of the woods, and meandered downhill for a few miles. I hiked for quite a while with Moe, talking about cars and his annual trip with his wife to destinations around the country in their C5 Corvette. An great guy in his mid 60s, he's working to be in Harper's Ferry (the Appalachian Trail's halfway point) before June 12th in order to get home and organize things for his big family 4th of July party. We walked for a short time before coming across an open field with a sign pointing to the shelter I planned to spend the night at.  The day went by quickly as we arrived at the Overmountain Shelter at 1530hrs. 

Overmountain, as I'd mentioned yesterday, is a rather famous shelter on the Appalachian Trail. Instead of being a normal lean-to structure it's an old rickety red Gambrel barn measuring in at 20x50', with an open first floor for cooking and an enclosed second floor to accommodate 30 or more hikers if necessary. While the walls aren't completely closed in, most planks with 2-3" between them to allow light in, the structure will still protect hikers from the elements. Almost all of the group from last night at here, and were sprawled out across the wooden floor of this great building. Come morning, the valley the barn overlooks will be a perfect backdrop for a gorgeous sunset. The site the barn is built on is famous from during the Revolutionary War where local militia fought the British in a bloody battle and won in September of 1780. 

Hopefully by this point the weather has passed, and hiking for the next few days will be uneventful. Looking at the A.T. Guide (written & updated annually by thru-hiker David 'AWOL' Miller) that almost every hiker uses, the next few days should put me in Virginia by Monday... A very exciting prospect. It's dark pretty early in the barn, and I'm more than ready for sleep. It's strange to think I'm coming up on nearly a month on the trail. Leaves me with lots to think about. Hopefully some time soon I'll have cell service to post the past few days of blogs...

With an abundance of wind in my sails,

Texaco 

Day: 26

Day mileage: 9.7

AT total mileage: 368.7

Time: 4 hours 

--

If you've been watching the news, you've probably heard about the tornado force winds, massive storms, and subsequent deaths across the lower regions of the country.  Those same weather systems have swept across our region of the Appalachian Trail these past two days, and are supposedly going to continue wreaking havoc tonight and tomorrow as well. 

Rain began at midnight, with a huge thunder and lightening storm beginning at two in the morning. Continuing well into the morning I actually debated hitting the trail at all, with most of the hikers in the shelter wondering if moving out of the rain cover was even worth it. Ultimately, I decided I wouldn't be good at taking a zero day, shy of 'earning' it with impressive mileage the day before, severe illness, or physical disability. I packed up, ate breakfast, and walked out into rain and gusty winds around 9 AM. It took me about a mile of hiking to realize that I had left my Red Sox hat at the shelter, and I turned back at a double-pace to try and not lose out on time or my hat. Luckily, about 1/2 way back to the shelter, a hiker named Moe informed me that Whitey had it and was bringing it with him to the next shelter. Whew! Seems silly, but I assure you my hat is as vital to me as my water and my backpack. It's an essential piece of gear, and I suppose even my identity on the trail (and probably in real life, too). 

Being a weird day with weather, and still hiking alone for the most part, I tried something new today: listening to audiobooks as I walked. Not knowing how I'd like it, I started with Malcom Gladwell's book 'Outliers' which I've already read a print version of. I figured that way if I got distracted or became disinterested, it wouldn't be a huge deal. Jury's still out on the experience as a whole, but it wasn't that bad for mindless walking. I think during more steep ascents and challenging hiking I'll stick with music over a voice reading to me.

About two hours into my hike I came across Iron Mountain Gap, where the trail crosses over a busy state road. I somewhat instinctively looked around for any trail magic, and found none. I decided to stop and eat a granola bar, and about the time I finished throwing the wrapper into my trash bag a small SUV with New Hampshire plates (I did a double take, initially not believing my eyes) pulled into the parking lot. The window rolled down and a girl yelled 'Trail Magic!' which got me on my feet quickly. The girl, trail name Flea, was being dropped off by her mother and aunt after spending some days getting over Norovirus.  Her mom opened the back of the Toyota and offered up a delicious snack of hot dogs, baked beans, BBQ potato chips, and home made cornbread. I've never been so happy to have taken my time eating a granola bar, otherwise I would have missed this!  I spent about half an hour talking with them, and was joined by Whitey and Moe who also got some snacks. After thanking them profusely, I got back on the trail. The weather cleared for a while, save for some exceptionally strong gusts of wind, and climbing out of the gap I was down to hiking in a t-shirt and shorts. 

The trail markings are rather sparse in this stretch of Tennessee, which I believe was part of what led me to the weird feelings today. I can honestly say that I spent a while not wanting to be hiking. Despite the weather and looming threat of more severe systems moving in, I sat for a while on a log examining life.  I kept referencing the map, not understanding why it was taking me so long to reach the shelter I was aiming to eat lunch at. I was simply fed up with walking, for whatever reason. After a while of sitting on the fallen tree (there is a certain freedom about being able to just sit on a downed tree with no consequence to time that's rather amazing) I decided to keep walking. I kid you not, less than 200 yards up the trail I came across the sign for the entrance to the shelter I was aiming for. I guess I was a lot further along than I thought (I blame the poorly marked trail), but I suppose the world is just funny like that. 

Having a small lunch at the shelter, and hearing an updated report of severe weather moving in, I went back and forth for quite a while about moving on to the next shelter or not. The miles wouldn't be an issue, the next place is only 8 miles away. What was a big concern, however, is the 6,200' elevation of Roan Mountain that lies between here and the next protected building to camp in. Summiting a bald mountain at over 6,000 feet during a storm that has already claimed lives and was creating 'gale force winds' and lightening storms at the peak didn't seem like a smart idea. What really bothered me for quite a while was the notion of stopping my hike after 4 hours and only 9.7 miles. It didn't feel right to be done so early in the afternoon.  I debated for quite a while and ended up setting up my sleeping bag in the lofted section of the shelter I was at. Better to be smart and walk less miles for one day than be found dead at the summit of a mountain that isn't Everest. 

I took a few short naps throughout the afternoon, talking with Whitey and Moe who also are staying here. Throughout the remainder of the day another dozen or so hikers showed up, including Soleil and JPEG, and we have crammed 9 people into a shelter built to hold 6. Nobody wants to tent in this weather, although some of the later arrivals will have to. Fingers are crossed that tomorrow's weather will be a bit kinder, and that the last of the major lightening and thunder storms pass by tonight. The wind is already severely worse now (2100 hrs) than it was throughout the afternoon. Either way I'll be pushing another 17 miles or so over Roan Mountain to the Overland Shelter which is sort of famous on the Appalachian Trail. If all goes well I'll be able to post some info and photos of it tomorrow night. 

From a dry sleeping bag in an otherwise soggy world, that's all the news that's fit for print.

Texaco

Day: 25

Day mileage: 17

AT total mileage: 359.0

Time: 6.5 hours

--

I was woken up at 0500 this morning to the blaring horn of a freight train, followed by minutes of screeching brakes as it slowed before heading into town.  I had slept without headphones in last night as I'm a sucker for sleeping with ambient noise, and the river did its job almost as well as my trusty desktop fan that I rely on for a good nights sleep in the real world. This meant that my exposure to the train noise was completely unprotected and made me regret picking a camp site by the train tracks, although I don't think there's anywhere in a 10 mile radius where I could have escaped the noise of the horn. 

Camp was struck and backpacks packed by 8 am, with the looming threat of severe storms and rain present. While Whitey went to a local hostel, Uncle Johnny's, for fuel, I instead hit the trail. My goal for today was to get as many miles in as possible before the rain started. We parted ways and I headed back into the woods, again falling subject to the guidance of the inanimate 2x6" white blaze on trees marking the pathway to Maine. About 1,000 feet into the woods I heard another train coming, and rushed to make it across the tracks before the it cut me off. Unfortunately the 70-something car train won our undeclared race, and I stood alongside the tracks watching the mammoth vehicle in motion.  As I stood there I wondered what it'd be like to hop on a car and 'ride the rails' as B.B. King might sing about.  A few minutes later my thoughts passed as quickly as the last train car around the bend in the track, and I got back to my task at hand. I was quick to realize that I was the first hiker on the trail this morning, as I was walking through many cobwebs that had been spun the night before.  While this shouldn't be an overly exciting occurrence it felt rather exciting to know I was the first to the trail for the day, like opening a new birthday present nobody had seen before.  The climb back out of Erwin started off wonderfully with slow uphills that wandered past a dozen waterfalls and rivers, most large enough to require walking bridges to safely cross from one side to the other as we carved our way out of the valley. About 4 miles out of town I stopped at the Curly Maple Gap Shelter and quickly ate a granola bar before heading on. 

The majority of my hiking today consisted of uphills, in 10 miles the trail would ascend over 3,600 feet of elevation change.  Despite this fact, and the incessant presence of heat and humidity, by the time I stopped for lunch at noon I had already hiked 12 miles. Three miles per hour uphill is fast for me, and I was pleasantly surprised with my accomplishment. I laid in a grassy open field, chatting with a hiker I'd just met named Pockets, as she and I enjoyed the vista looking back over Erwin. I only allowed myself to stay for half an hour or so before I pushed on to make it over the final 5,300' summit and down to the shelter I'd planned on staying at. Despite all Armageddon type storm warnings, it was sunny, blue skies, and humid for the duration of my hike. During the climb out of lunch I began hiking with Chili, a younger guy from Tallahassee, and Cannon, a 32 year old pharmacist who grew up in L.A. and is now living in Manchester, NH. Halfway up the mountain we came across a white van on the dirt road that the trail skirts alongside, where I officially met Miss Janet for the first time. She's something of a trail magic legend, and drives from Georgia to Maine between March and October every year, sprinkling hikers with trail magic and being supportive however she can. Again, I don't know the story behind her ability to do this, but she's an incredibly kind woman who handed out bananas and chatted with us before sending us on our way. 

Up and over a gorgeously unique summit, thick with tall pine trees and a dark mossy forest floor, the trail took a sharp turn before heading back down to a lower elevation. I continued talking with Cannon as we hiked for the rest of the day. About a mile out from the shelter we heard the first crack of thunder, and rushed our way over the next hill to attempt to stay dry. Three or so minutes after getting under the cover of the shelter all hell broke lose- dark clouds appearing out of nowhere, the temperature dropping, walls of water pouring down from the sky, all while lightning bolts illuminated the sky and thunder shook everything around. A dozen or so hikers huddled under the roof of the shelter for over half an hour until the storm moved on leaving blue skies and a damp ground. Apparently there were tornado warnings associated with this storm system that's passing over between now and Wednesday, as it's the same system that's been wreaking havoc across the southeastern part of the United States. 

I managed to snag a spot in the shelter, eager to not have my tent get wet if I could at all avoid it. Dinner was cooked and this group of hikers, many new to me, talked for hours. Two women here have already thru-hiked, and one was quick to say that from point forward on the trail, it's 'all mental'. We'll see how that works out.  We crammed 7 people into the shelter built for 6, and conversations faded as the sun disappeared behind the mountain ridge. I'm not sure what the weather will do tomorrow, but it's expected for another storm to move in overnight. My headphones are in to cut down on both storm and hiker noises, and I'll tackle tomorrow as it comes. Perhaps even with a detour to a famed hostel, as a port in the storm kind of thing. 

Onward and upward,

Texaco

Day: 23

Day mileage: 18

AT total mileage: 323.9

Time: 8 hours

--

A joke: How do you confuse the hell out of a northbound Appalachian Trail hiker? 

..You have them hike south!

It took me only about 10 minutes of walking this morning to notice that something in my simple little world was horribly amiss.  Turns out I've become keenly aware of the fact that in the morning the sun is on my right, and in the afternoon it's on my left. This was apparently not applicable this morning. Upon leaving Flint Mountain Shelter, where I resided last night, the trail turns abruptly south, and stays in that orientation for a half-dozen miles or so. Seems rather counterproductive for an individual attempting to walk to Maine, no?  Alas, it eventually returned to the proper orientation and all was right with the world again. 

After a late (0900) start, the first few miles flew by. Since I'm now walking alone for the majority of my day (for those who have asked, Crusoe and I are hiking separately after he took a second day off in Hot Springs), I'm apparently exceptionally quiet. There was one point where I felt I was being watched, and looked up to see a small group of deer standing in the woods around me. They were exceptionally attentive to my movement but remained still, eyes glued to me, as I snapped a few photos with my dSLR. For a minute or two we just watched each other, some sort of silent interspecies communication taking place, before I moved on down the trail and they simply watched me go. It's the closest I've been to a wild animal thus far on my hike, and was a peaceful & memorable experience. I exited the woods a mile later, crossing a small state road and conversing with hikers Osprey and Landslide. Both hikers were awaiting a shuttle to a local hostel and as we made small talk, Osprey gave me some dehydrated raspberries. Words cannot describe how delightful these little things were. I thanked him profusely, said goodbye to Landslide, and climbed over a small ladder into a fenced in field where the Appalachian Trail continued on. 

The next two hours were spent climbing an unnamed mountain, fair and relatively basic switchbacks winding past some beautiful waterfalls and lush green fields. I decided to spend the morning without my iPod so I was singing to myself, often only getting two or three lines of a song out before I'd forget the rest and just repeat what I'd already sang. As I've said before, pressing issues in a hiker's life. There was also a while on this climb where I stopped and watched a bug. I realize this sounds completely abnormal, but there was something about the blue color of it's shell that caught my attention enough to stop my walking, and I simply watched it make its busy way down the dirt trail. I wondered what he was up to, and if it had a to-do list for the day, as he certainly seemed to be on a mission.  After another half hour or so, I summited the mountain and was joined by Cheesepuff and Whitey as we made our way to the next shelter to stop for lunch.  We were at the Hogback Ridge Shelter for close to an hour just conversing with other hikers and soaking up the sun. Today's temperatures creeped up to the mid-70s with a flawlessly clear sky... A perfect day for hiking. 

I filled up my water bottle before leaving the shelter, and continued down a few miles of trail before the next road crossing. One of my favorite parts of hiking this Tennessee/North Carolina state line since exiting the Smokies has been the barbed wire fences. It seems we're constantly between old farmland property lines, with rickety and rusty fence lines running over hills and through fields. I often wonder how long ago they were actually used for keeping livestock in, or neighbors out. Some fence posts are in decent condition, while others have been claimed back by Mother Nature. The trail meandered down into Sam's Gap crossing under the highway at yet another NC/TN state line. From there an afternoon of climbing began, the end of which kicked my butt around the block and back. After 5 or so miles of gaining elevation, Cheesepuff, Whitey, and myself came across a great campsite between two rivers. We sat for a while debating staying there, but ultimately I put my pack back on and decided to keep hiking. It just feels wrong to stop even at 1700hrs, even with 15 miles hiked, all the while knowing there's 3 hours of sunlight left. My task here is to hike, and while there's light left to do it, I'd rather be hiking. 

Ultimately, the last 3 miles kicked my butt around the block and back. It was a constantly steep climb, which after 7 hours of hiking can take a toll. Regardless, as a group we summited the mountain called Big Bald, and decided it'd be an interesting place to set up camp. Not everyday do you get to camp out at the bald summit of a 5,616' mountain. There are 3 other hikers here with me, Whitey, JPEG, and Soleil, and with the wind howling we watched an absolutely gorgeous sunset. Everyone retired to their tents and my dinner was cooked inside my vestibule of the tent. The wind is still gusting, but I'm hoping that the sunrise in the morning will make it all worth while. Sometimes shelters just don't make things exciting enough, and things need to be shaken up a bit. 

Tomorrow I'll walk another 16-17 miles, aiming to be nearby to Erwin, TN for Monday morning to get some supplies before continuing on. For now, I'll listen to a combination of my Billie Holiday playlist, and the howling wind.  Quite the Saturday night, am I right?!

Onward and upward, per usual. 

Texaco

Day: 22

Day mileage: 17.5

AT total mileage: 306.1

Time: 8 hours

--

Highlights of today: 300th trail mile, trail magic, summiting Big Butt Mountain, and the sun appearing just before my arrival at the shelter. 

Rewind to 0800 this morning, munching on my breakfast bagel with peanut butter, breaking down camp. No sooner did I pull the straps on my backpack then the sky began to trickle down raindrops. Truthfully, phenomenal timing, so I wasn't all that frustrated. Cheesepuff, Whitey, and I headed out onto the road to a small store called 'Mom's' and advertised to hikers for snacks and drinks. They had been closed upon our arrival the night before, but we saw a car pull in before leaving our campsite and decided (excitedly) to stop by for some ice cream before hitting the trail. Only on the Appalachian Trail (and cycling cross country) is ice cream acceptable for a second-round breakfast. 

The building that's home to 'Mom's' honestly appears as if it should be demolished. Windows are covered with plexiglass to hide holes in glass from baseballs, it's dirty, and half of the store is a pile of junk literally just tossed aside. I was in love.  I'd made speculations yesterday upon seeing it for the first time that in its previous life the building was a gas station on the state line. I made some easy conversation with Dwayne, the 62 year old store owner, about his vintage cigarette advertisements just to get my foot in the door before steering the conversation where I really wanted it: the history of the building. Those of you who know me personally know I'm a huge fan of vintage petroleum history & advertising/signage, hence my trail name being Texaco.  Dwayne's face lit up when I asked him about the building's past. Apparently in the 60s it was his dad's gas and service station, originally branded as an Esso station. 

Quick history lesson for the sake of informing you, Esso and Mobil were both owned by Standard Oil Company. The government had intervened and expressed concern with Standard's size, so they split themselves. Esso was run out of New Jersey, named this way due to it's sounding like 'S.O.', aka an abbreviated Standard Oil. Mobil was run from New York, and was often advertised as a 'SOCONY' company, or Standard Oil Company Of New York.

End gasoline history lesson. Anyways, Dwayne and I spoke for a while about the signage, the time his dad was being bribed to turn over to a Sinclair station, and all of the old station stuff he still owns. I gave him a business card and told him to call me if he ever wants to part with his signs, one of which apparently is an original 1950s 48" Coca-Cola button. This was pretty much the single most exciting conversation I've had in a while and I can truthfully say I believe he was equally thrilled to have someone, especially from a younger generation, who was so appreciative of his family's business and his memorabilia 'hoarding'. 

At 0900 I was on the trail, beginning what was a long elevation climb over the course of 8 miles or so. The rain really kicked in with downpours as I was hiking up, and when I stopped to put my Goretex rain jacket on, my backpack's right shoulder strap broke at the point where it mounts to the bag. Upon hurried closer inspection (due to the monsoon of water falling from the sky and all) I saw that the mounting hole had cracked allowing the strap to fall out. I rushed to get the strap situated, although now it's in a different position than the other side. It's not perfect, but it will work. I'm not sure if I'll pursue this issue further just yet. I stopped at the next shelter to have a bite to eat and sign the journal (every shelter has a log book for hikers to write in) and I caught up with Cheesepuff and Whitey, as well as a few others who were hiding from the rain. I drank my filtered water, and refilled my Platypus with another 2 liters from a spring. After a nice break, and with the sun back out, I continued up the same climb I had started two hours earlier. 

Upon summiting the unnamed mountain, the trail a began a wonderful ridgeline walk for a handful of miles. The rain came and went more than a few times, making the trail a muddy and slippery mess. This was probably the worst condition the trail has been in since I left Georgia 3 weeks ago, and I almost fell more than a few times throughout the day thanks to the mud and wet rocks. I credit my trekking poles with saving my butt, and will again say aloud that I don't get how people hike without them. An hour or so into the less strenuous ridge walk, I came across a campsite with a creek where someone had littered cases of aluminum soda cans on the side of the trail. Upon closer inspection, this was actually a great moment of trail magic, where a local left two dozen soda cans (unopened! worry not!) in a pool of the river to keep them cold. I gleefully took a Sprite and headed on my way. The trail magic lately has been abundant, and has gotten me thinking about how I'll give back in the same regard when I finish the trail. 

With the rain subdued for a while, the trail came across a rather interesting sign. The carved wood presented separate trails: one a more sheltered option for 'bad weather', and a second trail that was a very exposed ridge line over the summits of a few mountains. Even though we'd had rough weather all day, there was no doubt in my mind about continuing onto the exposed trail. This proved to be a fascinating decision, with the rain quickly picking up and winds gusting fast enough to move me around as I hand-over-hand climbed up some exceptionally slippery rocks, visibility no more than 20 feet, and heavier fog moving in. What's life without adventure? I didn't come here to take the sheltered trail, after all. I stopped in the pouring rain to take a photo or two of the complete lack of views from the summit, and hurriedly navigated my way back down under the cover of trees.

Passing Jerry's Cabin Shelter, and ultimately the 300th mile mark of the Appalachian Trail, the path climbed back up to more of these incredibly eerie fields filled with fog. I tried to photograph a hiker and his dog, but no sooner would I stop to get the camera out then he'd disappear into fog even 30 or so feet away from me.  These scenes are beautiful, and although the photographs may seem redundant, each occurrence truly is its own experience. After climbing up to the anticlimactic summit of Big Butt Mountain (there was no sign to photograph for you, but this mountains name will live in hiker infamy along with Georgia's Chunky Gal Trail) the trail turned sharp right and followed an old dirt fire trail for almost two miles. I was alone, and loudly singing along to Skynard's 'Sweet Home Alabama' as I walked along... I can only imagine how harshly the squirrels judged me.  Wide enough to allow cars to travel, the road was very muddy and at times frustrating to navigate. Not knowing where the trail turned back into the woods and a lack of markings left me second guessing how far I'd walked for nearly 45 minutes. Eventually I came across the grave site I'd known to expect, and the trail turned back to the 18" wide dirt path I'm used to.  

There are 3 tomb stones in a field at the end of this dirt road. Two are exceptionally old (not by the standards of 'old' headstones in New England) but date back to the Civil War. These identical headstones belong to the Shelton brothers, Union soldiers visiting their families in the Confederacy, who were killed here. The third is for a 13 year old boy who was killed at the same spot in 1863. His headstone is newer, and is marked as installed by his descended family members. Flags and flowers are present, and this is a fascinating piece of history to be brought by. 

Around the time I left the graves, the sun started toying with the idea of coming out. It wasn't until I crested a small hill, suddenly exposed to a sweeping view of the valley, that the warmth of the sun was out in full force. It was another 3 miles to the shelter, but the time went by quickly and I arrived around 1700hrs. 

I set up camp and ate dinner with Cheesepuff and Whitey, getting into bed before sunset as the wind picked up and temperatures dropped. A little music, rereading letters from home, and a warm sleeping bag will allow me to nod off easily. Tomorrow's supposed to be nearly 80 degrees, and the elevation maps show about 2,500' of climbing between two summits which should get my heart rate up a bit. My plan is to do 19 miles and spend another night at a shelter in my tent. 

From the dark and starry skies in the middle of nowhere, goodnight. 

Day: 18

Day mileage: 17.8

AT total mileage: 247.8

Time: 8.5 hours

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I first woke up at around 6:15, pointed East and able to watch the most magnificent sunrise over the Smoky Mountain ridge line. I fell back asleep for a while and woke up again at 8 am, having breakfast and packing up for the day. The first of many people throughout the day commented on how funny it was to see three guys laying in sleeping bags in the camp sites. We were the last to leave the shelter at 9 am or so, with Snailman staying back, true to his name of being slow in the morning. (We later found out that he tumbled on the descent that morning and was transported to the hospital... No updates known as of now simply due to the main source of communication on the trail being written notes left at shelters- either way, best wishes Snail). Crusoe and I headed out and were greeted with a somewhat surprising climb from the shelter site. Although I have a good guide with topographical measurements, sometimes it isn't as accurate as hikers would like. After about an hour of climbing we began a long descent that lasted almost 7 miles. As we hiked the temperatures started really rising, eventually getting up to the mid-80s for the rest of the day. 

At the bottom most part of the descent, we crossed over the northern boundary of the Smoky Mountains, with having completed the entire Appalachian Trail portion of GSMNP in 4 days of hiking. This is something I'm very proud of. As we continued hiking we passed by many waterfalls and running streams, and the noises of 'real' civilization became present. Sure enough, a mile from the exit of the park the Appalachian Trail actually crossed under an I-40 highway overpass. We climbed a great stone staircase back into the woods and followed the trail to a river crossing where a sign pointed towards the Standing Bear hostel. I'd heard about this place but after being let down by the visitor center at Clingman's dome, I was hesitant to walk even the 600 yards out of the way to Standing Bear. A fellow hiker, Whitey, passed on the information that it was worth the trip so we headed off the trail for a visit. Standing Bear should win a Thru-hiker Institution Award (no such thing exists...yet). Picture a half dozen of the most rickety old southern shacks, along the lines of where Steve Martin's character grows up in the film The Jerk, and add 40 smelly hikers sitting around with smiles on their tired faces. For $10, I purchased from the 'store' 2 microwaveable cheeseburgers, 2 Gatorades, and a Ginger Ale. It's thru-hiker heaven here with a thousand items available for purchase, and bunks available for the night. A guy named Rocket is the general manager of sorts, wearing an Appalachian Trail edition Pabst Blue Ribbon shirt, sharing stories with hikers in the yard. All payments are honor system, and you simply hand him an envelope with money, as well as your trail name & a list of what you purchased written on the front. I wish we could have stayed longer, but we had places to be. As we were leaving we ran into our favorite four-legged trail friend, Cormack, who's hanging out here for the week while Wild Turkey finishes hiking the Smokies where dogs aren't allowed. I think I was more excited to see him than he was to see me. On an interesting final note about Standing Bear, there was a scale on the porch of the bunk house. In the 20 days since I've left Boston and walked 250 miles through the mountains of Georgia, North Carolina, and Tennessee, I have already lost over 13 pounds of body weight. This explains why my elastic waist-band shorts now need to be tied to keep them from falling off. It does make me wonder how much I'll lose in total. 

The ascent out of this area is hellish enough to be summed up by one sign posted about 300' up the trail reading: "GO BACK TO STANDING BEAR". With a stomach full of cheeseburgers and Gatorade, it took me a while to climb the few thousand feet of elevation gain over 5 miles to the top of Snowbird Peak. Once arriving at the peak however, I was surprised by a 10' pop up tent with coolers full of cold Orange Crush and Coca Cola sodas. I'll be able to drink Coke in just over 2 weeks (gave it up for no reason almost a year ago, so May 6th I'll be allowing myself to drink it again) so I enjoyed two Orange Crush drinks as Crusoe and smiled like little kids at the excitement of the 'trail magic'. We pressed on, and came across a very strangely shaped building at the top of the mountain. Upon inspection, the 'US Government: No Trespassing' signs are guarding an FAA radar/communications building. The sign on the doors have to be the most intimidating message ever, and read as follows:

"Warning: This facility is used in FAA air traffic control. Loss of human life may result from service interruption. Any person who interferes with air traffic control or damages or trespasses on this property will be prosecuted under federal law."

We took a photo of the building and continued the 4 miles downhill into Groundhog Gap where the shelter for the night was built. Surprisingly, there were only 4 other thru-hikers there, and 3 friends on a short hiking trip. After examining the area and comparing weather reports, Crusoe and I decided to 'cowboy' it again, sleeping in our sleeping bags under the open sky. Dinner was the last of Papa Doc's dehydrated meals, and bed came just after sunset. Falling asleep by a well built fire was extremely relaxing, and I love being able to watch the stars uninterruptedly from where I sleep. 

There's supposed to be scattered thunderstorms tomorrow, and we're planning a relaxed 15 mile hike that will leave us 10 miles out of Hot Springs, NC for an easy walk into town Wednesday morning. 

Onward and upwards, but only after some shut-eye. Hope you're all doing well :)