Day: 17

Day mileage: 20.2

AT total mileage: 230.0

Time: 9.5 hours

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I have officially hiked a 20 mile day on the Appalachian Trail. 

When I went to sleep last night my world was a cold, rainy, and windy place. This might help you understand why I was so confused to wake to the heat of the morning sun warming my tent, and a bright sky surrounding me. At some point overnight the skies cleared and left us hikers with an absolutely beautiful Easter Sunday. As we cooked breakfast a thru-hiker named Rabbit handed out Jelly Beans. It even smelled like an Easter morning as one hiker was frying Spam, giving off the aroma of bacon cooking on the stove. Nobody seemed to be in a rush to hit the trail, and we all left stuff hanging on tree branches drying in the sun until departing at 9 am or so. Again due to the limitations of only staying in shelters in the Smokies, our basic hiking options for the day were 6 or 12 miles. We agreed to do the 12 mile hike to Tri-Corner Knob Shelter, where we'd arrive early and relax for the day.

Our first stop this morning was at a gorgeous rocky vista called Charlie's Bunion. Due to our still being within a few hiking miles of a popular visitors center and parking lot, there were two early-morning hikers already there. These girls were in their mid 20s, having road tripped down from Detroit for a few days, and were extremely inquisitive as to how, why, etc, anyone would hike the Appalachian Trail. We sat there and talked for a while, having them take our photo with Simba and Alpine Monkey (German and Austrian thru-hikers), and then actually joined in on one of the girl's projects. She's apparently the organizer of a fitness/dietary weight loss program called Break the Weight, and has been filming 'a dance a day' for 70 someodd days now to promote physical activity. She wanted our involvement for today's video, so sure enough Crusoe, Simba, Alpine, and myself joined in dancing on top of Charlie's Bunion (cautiously, so as not to plummet to our dancing demise) while being video taped for YouTube. It probably looked as funny as it sounds. Anyways, the girls gave us some Easter trail magic of Starbursts candy and some granola bars, and we were on our way. We stopped for lunch at a beautiful vista around 1230 and after some gorgeous, challenging, elongated climbs back into the 6,000' altitude regions, pulled into camp around 1530. Interesting fact: since entering the Great Smoky National Park, we've spent less than 10 miles of trail under 5,000'. 

At some point during the day I'd broached the idea with Crusoe about taking an afternoon break and pushing on to the next shelter an hour or so before sunset. Many people lately have spoken about night-hiking, and the idea was exciting. He agreed, and we planned out a 1900hrs departure, hypothetically landing us at the next shelter 8 miles down the trail at an hour or so before midnight. I spent my afternoon lying in the sun on my sleeping pad, again pretending I was at the beach, and then we prepared our dinners before continuing our hike. We did get a few crazy looks for our plans, but also gained interest from a 22 year old Danish hiker named Snailman (he's actually quite the fast hiker, just very slow to get up in the morning) who decided to join along. Crusoe and I hit the trail and climbed to a great elevation to watch the sunset from the trail. I finally had some cell service to get email and the sort, but we literally had miles to go before we slept so we didn't linger past the sun's beautifully colorful disappearance. Temperatures initially dropped enough to warrant fleece layers, but we shed them not long after due to being quite comfortable moving in the chill of the early night. About an hour after dark Snailman came up behind (mind you the trail is pitch black aside light from our LED headlamps, so initially all we really saw was a small light gaining on us from behind) and joined us for the rest of the way. It was a bit tricky navigating rocky, muddy, tree-rooted trails at night, but we carefully kept a good pace and made it the 8 miles in three and a half hours. Conversations with Snailman ranged from American healthcare to gun control, cars to college, and eventually how he came across hiking the Appalachian Trail. He apparently read about it on Google just 5 months ago. We quietly arrived at the shelter and looked around for somewhere to sleep. The shelter itself was full, so we decided to 'cowboy it', hiker term for a ground pad and sleeping bag only, lying under the stars. Luckily for us it's a new moon, so the stars are brilliantly shining without the moon interrupting. There wasn't a lot of even ground that wasn't already taken by tents, so I'll spend tonight sliding downhill a bit. C'est la vie. 

As I fall asleep writing this, I'm able to be in my sleeping bag, and uninterruptedly stare into the vast sky at what seems to be a million different glistening stars. The lack of ambient light pollution is perfect for this, and the sky is clear enough that I'm actually able to watch a satellite orbit in space. 

These are incredible moments, after wonderful and noteworthy days of hiking, that I hope to remember for a long time. Tomorrow by lunch we'll be beyond the northern boundary, completing our 71 mile traverse of the National Park in just 4 days. Onto more mountains, more interesting people, and more amazing experiences. 

Off to bed, I think that satellite is going by again. 

Day: 16

Day mileage: 17.0

AT total mileage: 209.8

Time: 8 hours

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I'm embarrassed to admit that some of today's mileage was due to an idiotic mistake on my part. About 1/2 mile before the summit of Clingman's Dome there's a sign designating the Dome trail & the bypass trail. After thoroughly examining this sign, I proceeded to walk a half mile down the *wrong* path, which upon realizing my mistake, forced me to double back the same half mile (uphill this time) and turn back onto the A.T. to get to Clingman's summit. I only admitted this to three people on the trail, one of whom was Crusoe who had been waiting an extra 20 minutes for me to arrive at the peak. Although I have a feeling it won't be, I do hope this is the only time this happens... It's not only rather counterproductive, but also extremely embarrassing. 

Last night in the shelter was great. People went to sleep rather early due to the temperature, and there wasn't a lot of ambient noise throughout the night. I opened my eyes the first time around 0400 to hear rain drops on the tin roof. Three hours later the rain was still present, accompanied by some serious gusts of wind. It seemed everyone in the shelter was on the same wavelength, as although people were awake nobody actually moved out of their sleeping bags until almost quarter till 8. Crusoe and I were packed up and were the first from our shelter on the trail at 8:30. We had a gentle climb out of camp and cruised along quickly to the next shelter 2 miles down the trail. We stopped there for a quick breakfast and learned from campers that there was a group of wild hogs that had been present the night before outside the shelter. The Smokies have some interesting animals!  We hit the trail again and began a very smooth 3 mile climb the remaining 1,000' to the summit of Clingman's. During this time, however, it seemed we were magically transported to hiking the Pacific Northwest. Barren & dead trees were replaced with lusciously green pine trees, mossy forest floors, and a wet atmosphere amplified by the drizzle of rain still falling. It was a totally different atmosphere than anything we've hiked in thus far, and would last throughout the day. 

Just before 11 we summited Clingman's, suddenly thrown back into the mainstream of America as tourists walked the paved path to the lookout tower atop the mountain. It's funny how quickly we felt out of place. Winds at the top of the tower were gusting over 50 mph, blowing us around with our large packs. A few quick photos were taken, and we headed down to decide whether or not to visit the 'gift shop' with HHH (abbreviation of my new phrase: hungry-hiker-hopes) of a microwaveable cheeseburger and some cold Gatorade. The predicament was whether or not to walk the 1 mile round trip, returning up a very steep paved path, to the shop. We decided for it, and were severely disappointed to find that they only sold water. Probably passive aggressively, I also felt the need to buy a 1lb mason jar of locally made peach preserves for $5... Either way, I ate about 1/4 of the jar and drank my $1.35 bottle (a liter! Imagine that. Great pricing of water..) and we headed back up the windy mountain. It was funny again to walk alongside pedestrian tourists who were winded and quick to bail on their plans of visiting the summit due to the steep, still paved, path to the top. We got some strange looks, and returned to the trail by 12:30. Even after such a short time mingling with people it felt good to be back on 'our trail'.  

Take home message for hikers south of Clingman's: do *not* waste your time & energy walking down to the gift shop. 

Take home message for the US Parks Department: if you put in a $200 fridge with frozen foods, some cold drinks, and candy bars, you'd make a *killing* from thru-hikers and tourists alike. 

We quickly hiked the afternoon miles, talking about photography, sing partially correct choruses to pop country songs, and sometimes just walking in silence. At some point just after the summit of Clingman's we unceremoniously crossed into the 200th mile of The Trail. The surroundings (still looking like the PNW) were captivating, again revisiting my term of Mother Nature's Battlefield with gigantic fallen pine trees covered in moss lying everywhere. Some fallen trees ripped up root systems 15-20' in diameter, towering over us as we hiked alongside. Some root systems pulled up boulders weighing in at several hundred pounds. I wish I knew how so many managed to fall, shallow roots perhaps? These are monstrous trees, sometimes taking 2-3 others down with them when they tumble. It's quite the sight to see. Regardless, we re-entered civilization where the trail crosses a popular access road to the Smoky Mountains. There was a parking lot full of tourists who were quick to ask questions of where we had come from and where we were going. I suppose we looked out of place in our t-shirts and shorts, as the rain was once again picking up, with temperatures still in the 40s. We snapped a few photos, and headed up the trail the remaining 3 miles to the shelter we intended to stay at. We passed an interesting sign at the parking lot, showing 1,972 miles to Katahdin in Maine, our ultimate destination. It's the first sign I've seen with that kind of marking on it. We shared the Trail with pedestrians again for the rest of the afternoon due to there being a scenic vista at the top of the mountain that they hike to see. It's quite strange to share the path with people who have no regard for trail etiquette. Obviously I shouldn't be surprised, but it felt out of place. 

We pulled into the Icewater Spring Shelter at 1700hrs with the cold rain steadily falling. The first thing to check for was whether or not there was shelter space, which there was not. The fabled Ridgerunner (GSMNP hiking enforcement) clued us in to 4 'reservations' who ultimately would push 4 thru-hikers out of the shelter. This meant we were setting up tents in the rain... Not my favorite activity. In order to avoid getting it wet inside as I set it up, I pre-built it under the cover of the Shelter and transported it into the rain fully assembled. A few people got a kick out of this, but it makes perfect sense to me. Dinner was quickly consumed, a tortilla cheese wrap with pepperoni, and a bowl of Ramens soup just to warm me up. I climbed into my tent over an hour before sunset and fell asleep listening to the radio on my iPod. There are almost a dozen FM country music stations available, some of which are broadcast from Ashville. I guess we're relatively close in proximity. I couldn't find an FM news station, but I suppose nothing catastrophic has happened since someone today would have said something

Due to placing of shelters and the requirement to stay at them, we'll only do 13 miles tomorrow. This will get us out of the Smoky Mountains late Monday or first thing Tuesday morning- not bad for 4 1/2 days of hiking through what the Park Service calls 'one of the most challenging parts of the entire Appalachian Trail'. 

Back to sleep now, it's almost midnight as I write this & the rain has stopped, leaving a quick wind and low temperatures. Tomorrow should be an easy day with higher temps to dry everything out.  I for one am hoping to find some Easter eggs hidden on the trail. 

*please forgive any delays in updates- data service has been severely lacking*

ay: 14

Day mileage: 11

AT total mileage: 176.5

Time: 5.5 hours

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Today seemed to last forever, and at some point we officially entered into Tennessee. 

For some reason I was exceptionally exhausted this morning, and finally rolled out of 'bed' at 8:05. Striking my tent and walking to the visitor center by 9 allowed me to wash up and brush my teeth while Crusoe tried to get us on a shuttle into town. This ended up being quite the (comical) ordeal trying to get the older couple working at the visitor center to stop bickering about their fax machine long enough to make the call for us. It was pricelessly hysterical to watch this situation play out. We waited 10 minutes or so for the Chevy SUV to pull into the parking lot and take us to what constitutes 'town' for the sum of $3/direction. 

We stopped in at the Fontana General Store, where I giddily drank a Minute Maid orange juice while I shopped for resupply items. I've got a fair amount of meals left, so I filled in my 'mid-day snack' collection with Pop-Tarts, glazed honey buns, Snicker's, and Milky Way bars.  It's quite enjoyable to shop for things by what has the *most* calories, since it's probably the only time in life i'll do this. For $25 I filled up the next week and a half of food items, and Crusoe and I sat in the sun using the store's wifi while it was available. We then headed up to the Fontana Lodge to try and find breakfast. Upon arriving (10:50) we were informed they were closing to change over to lunch... Nothing seemed to be going our way timing wise, as we were still waiting for the single-man-operation post office to open at 11:45. We sat in the lobby of the Lodge conversing with other hikers, and I picked up my new tent poles. We eventually were let into the restaurant where I ate a delicious burger and washed it down with a perfectly chilled Sam Adams Lager. The brewery founder would be ashamed to know it was served to me in a Bud Lite glass. After lunch we went back to the post office to pick up our permits (thank you Mr. & Mrs. Mather) for the Great Smoky National Park, and hitched the shuttle back to Fontana Dam. 

The quick background on the GSMNP permit is as follows: in order to thru-hike the A.T., you pass through GSMNP. To 'legally' do this, each hiker is required to print and carry at all times a permit, costing $20 per hiker, to grant them access to shelters and trails. The 70 some-odd miles of trails include a fair amount of shelters, which come with their own rules. The most detrimental rule in my opinion: shelter space must be fully occupied before a hiker is allowed to set a tent. Basically, no alone space as you have to be in the shelter. The best way to describe these shelters is to compare it to a large morgue. There are two levels of 'shelves' 7 feet deep and with about 3 feet of head room. The shelves are about 15 feet wide, giving room for 5 hikers to fit in next to each other. The sections are divided by small 1x2 pieces of wood to differentiate personal space. Not my idea of a good time. The second ridiculous rule: a thru-hiker has no priority over a weekend hiker for shelter space. Regardless of when a weekend hiker arrives at the shelter, they have precedence for a shelter slot. So I could theoretically show up at 3 pm, exhausted from my 200th mile of hiking in two weeks, and at 7pm when a late weekend hiker arrives, be kicked out of the shelter and forced to set my tent up...... Angry face. Oh and since you asked, the GSMNP trails are patrolled by 'Ridgerunners' who check for permits and enforce these rules at night. I'm really hoping to be down and out of the Smokys in 4 nights. 

Crusoe and I hit the trail at 1400hrs, very late in the day, due to our required errands in town. This afternoon was exhausting, and included a few thousand feet in elevation gain over not many miles. We were able to climb the sketchiest fire tower I've ever been in, comprised of angle iron, missing railings, rotted floor boards, and amazing views. We snapped some photos and headed back to the trail. Knowing we had to stay at the shelter (11 miles from where we started) our fate was pretty much sealed for a near-sunset arrival time. We did pass through some gorgeous fields and amazingly grown trees, as well as the first bear trap I've ever seen in my life. Tennessee shall be interesting! A long and steep uphill eventually landed us at the shelter at Mollie's Ridge. Unfortunately there weren't enough people to 'force' tenting, so staying in the shelter is what's going to happen. A nice fire with a new group of people, including a mid-20s couple who decided to hike the Trail as their honeymoon (not my idea of a good time), and it's bed time. 

Having to stay in shelters really limits the open-ended freedom of where we camp at night.  Shelter location will limit or force how many miles we complete per day for the next few days, but I think I've got a plan in place to get my butt out of this Government Controlled Woods by Monday. Aren't there better things to be policing than if hikers are sharing bunks appropriately??

Day: 13

Day mileage: 14.2

AT total mileage: 165.5

Time: 7 hours

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It was 25 degrees when I got out of my tent this morning. I assure you it took an immense amount of willpower to get out of my warm, down-feather sleeping bag and out into the frigid air... just to walk. Who in their right mind would do such a crazy thing? Apparently this guy, right here. After packing up our campsite, and enjoying a 450 calorie 'berry honey bun' from its plastic shrink wrap packaging, the four of us headed into the woods. For the last day, we faced the world as the clan of Texaco (myself), Crusoe (Kevin), Papa Doc (Doug), and Keegan (still no trail name). 

There have been a few moments in the last 165 miles where I've questioned my own ability to make it to Maine. Discouraging moments include pains in my legs, rain soaked mornings rushing to put my wet tent away, smelling horrible after 5 days of intense physical activity while not showering, and moments like the one I had this morning while scaling Jacob's Ladder. Had I been informed before beginning my ascent that this section is the steepest section in all of the AT, I might have felt better about myself. Instead, less than 1/4 mile out of our campsite with morning aches in tired legs, I questioned my physical competence against a beast like The Trail. Holy hell was it steep. Regardless, after an embarrassingly long bit of time and mentally trying to overcome the screaming pain in my cold calf muscles, I made it to the peak of that 'hill' and was promptly informed of its notoriety in the grand scheme of the A.T., instantly making me feel even the tiniest bit better. 

After shedding my fleece top & long underwear layers, again down to just shorts & no shirt, I walked, invigorated by the mix of nippy wind and warm sun. I kept up with the quick pace set by Keegan & Crusoe, and we pushed on. The miles started flying by as we walked over roller coaster hills, the icy & frozen ground seeing sunlight for the first time since the storm, with thick mud becoming present almost everywhere. Neither climbs nor descents were overly extreme.  About half way through our day we passed by Cable Gap Shelter, both very old & very small, known to be one of a few left from their original construction in the 1930s. The climb from Cable Gap was steady & steep, bringing us up to the 3,600' elevation we'd meander along at for another few miles before descending down to Fontana Dam. The descent would include 2,000' elevation loss over a drawn out 5 miles, during most of which the Dam itself was visible. A lurking concrete monstrosity, the Fontana Dam led to many discussions of mechanical engineering, architecture, generic construction, and bridges over (non-troubled) water. It was almost excruciating, the amount of time it took us to get down to road level. During our descent the world once again became less dead, with greenery and even faintly blooming flowers appearing around us. As soon as we made it to the Fontana shelter (aptly named the Fontana Hilton, more on that later) we said goodbye to Doc & Keegan for what likely will be the last time. Their visit with family will probably put a 50-60 mile gap between us, although I do hope to see them again. It's quite strange how quickly people come & go in life, but infrequently do they seem like you've known them forever. These two fine gentlemen will absolutely be missed, but we'll stay in touch & meet up off the trail when circumstance allows. 

Crusoe & I lay claim to tent spots, and headed to the Fontana Dam visitor center to look around. My attempt at an accurate description: the Dam was built in many stages between 1942 & 1945 to cut down on flooding in the local towns after large storms. Regardless, it's quite the sight to see, at over 2,100 feet in diameter. After speaking with the staff at the visitor center and signing the guest book, we each took hot (more importantly: free) showers, and walked back to set up our tents. A quick side note & interesting fact, 30 years or so ago, my mother & her friend Susi dropped my uncle off at Fontana Dam Visitor Center to hike the Appalachian Trail. I've attached a photo of him the day he started, and one of me from roughly the same angle. Rather neat, no?

Back on track... The Fontana shelter is nicknamed the Hilton for the multitude of free showers, working plumbing, and free electricity. It's another world compared to what we're used to.  A good dinner of Ramen noodles & peanut butter (don't knock it till you try it) and Crusoe's tortilla soup, washed down with a 24oz PBR I've now trekked 30 miles (read: 30 miles too far), we sat around a fire with a half dozen other hikers. As the sun set over the Great Smoky Mountains I reflected on the silly fact that we actually walked here... Inadvertently returning to the first thought of my day: who in their right mind would do such a crazy thing? 

Day: 12

Day mileage: 14 mi

AT total mileage: 151.3 mi

Time: 6.5 hours

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Even if I was a meteorologist with the most up to date equipment on earth, I couldn't have predicted the weather we encountered today. 

Waking up 'late' was exceptionally nice. The guys sharing the bunk house with Crusoe and myself got up early and were rather noisy, but some of my favorite Billie Holiday songs on my iPod put me right back to sleep.  Around 9 am I headed out onto the porch to work on the 4 days of unwritten journal entries I've been neglecting. By the time I finish typing blog entries, the last thing I want to do is pick up a pen and re-cap my day again. Doc and I sat outside watching the rain fall from the covered porch for a while before deciding we should start the day. The four of us (Crusoe and Keegan included) packed up our bags, donned our waterproof gear, and headed down for the first cooked breakfast I've had in two weeks. If yesterday's mission was the intake of milk, today's was the intake of orange juice. We enjoyed breakfast at the NOC restaurant, restocked silly items (honey buns, 24oz beers, Skittles) at the convenience store, and headed for the trail around 11:45. 

What. A. Climb. Holy crap. Remember how I said I thought trail legs had been established? Well today kicked my butt. I knew full well the climb that would bring us out of the NOC but this was hours of steady climbing. It only took 20 minutes or so for Crusoe and I to show our thick Yankee blood and ditch everything down to t-shirts despite the drizzling rain and wind.  He and Keegan were hiking at a faster pace than I wanted for today, so Doc and I hiked together while the guys sped off. I turned the ipod over to a record Stevie Ray Vaughn made at Carnagie Hall, and jammed my way up the trail. About an hour into the hike the weather turned for the first time. We were about to ve climbing into the clouds, and the fog was announcing its presence. It was at a look-out called the 'Jump Off' that I first noticed snowflakes falling. Yes friends... Snowflakes. We continued hiking up, and with more elevation came colder temperatures and stronger winds. Temps had dropped into the low 30s, and wind chill brought the apparent temperature much lower. The snow flakes started becoming painful to the skin, and I began noticing that instead of snow, it was chunks of ice falling from the sky. I picked up a few pieces and photographed them to show you what we were getting hit with. The scenery changed from the wet greenery to something out of a dark remake of Snow White... Everything was covered in ice, winds whipping around us and blowing us around on the trail, and the pelting of ice against my jacket (I finally put one on) made a steady rhythm. Doc and I stopped at a shelter to add layers of clothing, and found two dozen hikers bundled up and tucked into their sleeping bags hiding from the wind and harsh elements. They look at us like we were crazy when we headed back out into the weather. 

We regrouped with Keegan and Crusoe  at the summit of Cheoah Bald (5,062') and decided to stick to the original plan of hiking to a campsite 14 miles from the NOC, leaving us with 5 miles to finish. This made me somewhat nervous, as it was 1545 at this point, leaving us hiking close to dark. Temperatures would inevitably fall further, which was another concern. We pushed on, as the hail turned to a gentler sleet, and eventually to just snow. The wind was persistent, though, even as our elevation dropped significantly. The snow continued for the rest of our hike. Around 1730hrs the sun poked through the clouds for a few short minutes, before disappearing for the rest of the day. We crossed a state road before rejoining the trail, and were delighted to find delicious apples sitting on a picnic table. Yes, there's a risk of eating apples left on a table, but man were they good, and I'm still alive to type this. We headed up another 3/4 of a mile to the tent site we're staying at tonight, and set up camp in the freezing wind and snow. 

Dinner was a dehydrated beef stroganoff made months ago by Doc and Keegan that they served to Crusoe and myself. I literally didn't even get out of my tent/sleeping bag, the food was delivered.  After the absolutely delicious dinner we talked for a bit, each tent being bombarded with icy snow flakes and wind that are still very much present outside. Temperatures at the moment are in the very low 20s, and are expected to drop a little more overnight. My water bottles, water filter, and all electronics are buried inside my sleeping bag with me, and I'm wearing almost every layer of clothing I have with me to try and stay warm tonight. I've joked aloud that if all else fails I can put on the arthritis medicine for the 'heat' of the jalapeños. Maybe that would work... Who knows. 

Tomorrow we'll stroll another 13 miles to Fontana Dam where I'll cross into Tennessee for the first time. Tent poles will be available to be picked up (thanks MSR for making it right!) and I'll spend the night at the 'Fontana Hilton' - a pet name for the shelter due to the hot showers and electricity it has. It will be our last day with Papa Doc and Keegan as they're taking a few days off to visit with family. I know Crusoe and I will both miss their presence. It's amazing how close you can become with people in such quick time periods on this trail. 

On another quick tangent, I spent a lot of time today thinking about the year between the Marathon bombings and today. Having met survivors during the World Series Parade and being in love with the City of Boston, it's incredible to know how much closer we've become as a city. The nationwide support was endlessly amazing, and I truly hope that the 2014 Marathon goes off flawlessly to show just how strongly we bounce back after tragedy. 

Anyway. 

Off to bed, hopes of staying warm dancing in my head.... Wish me luck!

Day: 11

Day mileage: 11.7 mi

AT total mileage: 137.3 mi

Time: 5 hours

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The raineth haveth cometh.  

Waking up at 7 am left me to find the camp site practically empty. Of the dozen tents sent up in our one area when we retired for the evening, only 4 were left including my own. We broke our tents down, and ate a quick breakfast. Weather reports indicated the rain would begin at 10 AM and would continue through to tomorrow. As we filtered water and got ready to start hiking, we came across another family who's almost done with their SOBO (SOuthBOund) Appalachian Trail hike. There were both parents, three kids, and a young Husky canine hiking, netting close to 20 miles a day per the father of the clan. That kind of mileage astounds me, although if they've been at this for as long as they say, I'm sure it's not inaccurate. I can't imagine being 12 years old and having hiked the entire A.T. 

We climbed (again, our group of 4) out of the Cold Spring Shelter and headed into what became a quick paced and relatively easy day, all things considered. At our elevation of just under 5,000 feet, we would be dropping down to under 1,700 when all was said and done. The destination for the night was 'The N.O.C.' aka the Nantahala Outdoor Center, a whitewater rafting and hiking outfitter. The hike would take us over 12 miles of terrain, 8 of which was downhill, sometimes at severe angles. We walked together as a group to another bald where we were able to scale yet another fire tower for more cloudy views of the surrounding mountains. We continued our hike from there, and while Crusoe and Keegan headed up the front, Doc and I stayed slow and cautious in the back. He has had issues with his ankle in the past, and we're both aware of the risk of rushing. Over 8 miles it became extremely tedious to watch every downhill step, but proved worth it. At some point we crossed into a low enough elevation that the vegetation completely changed. All of the sudden the forest floors were covered with newly growing plants, the fallen trees covered in a lusciously soft looking moss, and the birds chirping a different tune. It was truly beautiful, and a welcome change from the more barren and still hibernating forest floors of the higher elevations. Papa Doc and I meandered through these lower portions for a while discussing life, work, and traveling. Not too long after we were joined by Simba, one of many German thru-hikers, who has separated for the day from his friends Lucky Moose & Snailman. He spent a while telling us about hiking trails in Europe alike the A.T. that get upwards of 200,000 starting hikers a year... Almost 100x the number of those that attempt the Appalachian Trail. Apparently the A.T. is decently well known in Europe. 

At about noon-thirty, 2 and a half hours after the weather predicted, the heavens opened. We had been in a slight drizzle for fifteen minutes or so, during which we had stopped to wrap our backpacks in waterproof covers. I stowed the camera, expecting some more sever weather moving in, and appreciated that 2 minute detour when the torrential rain began. Simply due to the desire to keep my dry clothes dry, I continued the rest of my day with no shirt on. The looks Crusoe and I have gotten without shirts on some of these days are hysterical, but people seem to forget that we're used to colder weather. We often debate between ourselves whether it'd be more beneficial to be more accustomed to the cold of the North or the heat of the South. Doc, Simba, and I picked up our pace and made it down the remaining mile of switchbacks by 1330. Soaking wet, we were met by Crusoe and Keegan with cold 24oz cans of PBR. Although not my favorite beer, it managed to put a smile on even the most soaking wet of hiker's faces. 

After a quick pow-wow we decided to see if the NOC had any bunks left for the night, hoping to keep our tents dry for one more day if possible. They were able to place us in the 'overflow' house where we'll share the bunk rooms with 4 other guys. For $20 you get a warm bunk room and warm showers.. believe me, it was worth it. I stopped by the outfitter to get tent pole braces, which I'll only need for two more days. Per my parent's help, MSR was contacted and they'll be overnighting new tent poles to Fontana Dam for me to pick up on Wednesday. They're aware of a 'bad batch' of poles manufactured... Further discussions will be had as to whether or not they'll waive the $15 overnight shipping fee. Either way I appreciate the company standing behind the product. The kind fellow at NOC found me some pole repair braces in their storage room, and after hearing my story gave them to me for free. I also picked up a pair of orange Superfeet inserts for my shoes, thanks to a recommendation from my friend Kim. The theory is that they will absorb some downhill impact and relieve my knees. 

Our group of 4 had lunch at the restaurant on property, and I consumed a burger with two 1/2lb patties, jalapeños, cheddar cheese, and the typical mayo/lettuce/tomato mix, along with a few slices of veggie lovers pizza, two beers, and two large glasses of milk. Immediately followed by a pint of strawberry shortcake ice cream. To say that my appetite is decent would be a massive understatement. And to answer your question, when paced correctly, beer and milk work fine together... I walked into town craving milk and orange juice. Tomorrow, the OJ shall flow. 

We're sitting up at our cabin, after each of us took a hot shower, winding down for the night and looking at tomorrow's maps. The rain will undoubtedly continue, and we'll be faced with a 3,300' climb out of this area. Per a previous thru-hiker, we're in 'rarified air' with our 2014 thru-hiking peers. With a full tummy, cleansed body, and dry socks, I look forward to tomorrow.

A little rain never hurt anybody. Lightning maybe, but we'll deal with that as it comes. 

Day: 10

Day mileage: 14.8 mi

AT total mileage: 125.6 mi

Time: 7 hours

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Our Everest Base Camp broke down rather quickly this morning. At some point during the night I was awoken by another snapping noise, only to discover that two more tent pole joints broke. I spent about half a second debating doing anything about it, and decided that continuing sleeping was the best course of action. It's Sunday, so no phone calls to the manufacturer can be made. The group we camped with last night offered another brace for me to use to keep the tent up. This kind of generosity is unbelievably appreciated. Turkey, her puppy, Bengus, and Fumbles were heading back to the highway (0.2 miles or so) and spending the day in Franklin, NC. Myself, Crusoe, Doc, and Keegan headed uphill to start our morning, and were quick to get mileage in before coming across a bald mountaintop that we were urged to summit for the view. We were not misled, and a quick game of frisbee (before some bad aim ended the discus in the middle of impassable brush), and phone calls to loved ones accompanied the gorgeous ridge line views. 

We descended from Siler's Bald down to Wayah Gap before beginning an incredibly strenuous climb to the next summit. There are points on the trail, quite frequently, where we walk through what I call 'rhododendron tunnels' - 8' tall tunnels of the not-yet-blossomed covering the trail. It's quite beautiful to walk through, and I hope we get to see them in bloom before too much time goes by. We ate lunch alongside a fresh water spring before continuing up a bit to a paved road and public park. For those in the Boston area, it was a lot like The Fellsway where Wright's tower overlooks the city. We stopped with a dozen other hikers at a stone fire tower that looks over Franklin. With only a few miles left in our day, we pushed on. Crusoe (Kevin) and Keegan stopped at a shelter while Doc and I cruised along for a few miles. It's an amazing phenomenon that every afternoon we slip into an auto-pilot mode and simply breeze through mile after mile of trail. I had my iPod playing and was jamming along to some music. Underneath the heat of the sun today, with temperatures in the high 70s and a lovely breeze, I put some suntan lotion on at lunch and spent my afternoon shirtless. I've noticed tan lines appearing not only where my watch is, but also where my trekking pole straps cross over my hands. I can only imagine how funny this will look after months of exposure. 

A very long climb was how we ended our day, which we somehow overlooked when checking the maps throughout the day. The phrase 'trail legs' is thrown around referring to when you've developed leg muscles capable of climbing these mountains without much issue or pain. While I sweat profusely today, I'd say that my cardio & leg situations have become very much tuned to trail specifications. These climbs are enjoyable and not painful, and I manage to keep my 2+ MPH pace during these long inclines. 

The tent site tonight is packed. Shelter is absolutely full, and it seems many people are planning escape routes from the two days of thunderstorms we're slated to get tomorrow and Tuesday. Our mileage tomorrow should only be 12-13 or so, giving us time to secure a tent site for the four of us (Crusoe, Doc, & Keegan) before much competition arises. We cooked dinner with a large group of people, including a family of 5 who are thru-hiking as the kids are home schooled... certainly an interesting way of bringing up a family, I wonder what implications it will have on the social development of kids that don't have exposure to people their own age? Who knows, but I'll ask Doc tomorrow what he thinks. Crusoe made some chili over the fire which he shared and we all enjoyed. As we were eating dinner a 4th section of my tent poles snapped. Another nice hiker donated his bracing to keep my tent standing tonight. A few phone calls and bedtime as the winds on this ridge are whipping around. My fingers are crossed for an uneventful night of sleep, but I know the guy in the hammock next to me will be colder regardless of my condition. 

We're 3 days out from the Smokies, so that's something worth looking forward to. Hopefully MSR/Cascade Designs will get me new tent poles before then... We've heard rumors of snow storms still happening on the peaks of that mountain chain. It'd help a lot if the tent could stay standing without the assistance of braces & duct tape. Anyway. Bed time for me. Hope you're all doing well & had a good weekend. 

Day: 9

Day mileage: 13.1 mi

AT total mileage: 110.8 mi

Time: 6:43

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This morning began earlier than others, and with a very abrupt noise. I was woken by a snapping sound, followed by the consequential bark of Cormack the dog.  My first thought from deep inside my dark sleeping bag? The tree precariously leaning over my tent had broken and I was dead. My fabric abode became a fabric coffin, and I was to be buried at Betty's Creek Gap... Oh, what a way to go.  Okay so in actuality one of my tent poles had snapped at a joint. Due to the tension of the rain fly over it, it didn't collapse on me. After breakfast with the group, I inspected it more closely, and traded Wild Turkey some band aids (for her blisters) for a brace for broken tent poles. I attempted to call the manufacturer later in the day, but they were closed for the weekend. Neither hiking outfitter in the next town had anything better to offer, so I'll need to call MSR/Cascade Designs on Monday to get new parts shipped quickly to Fontana Dam before beginning the trail through Great Smoky Mountain National Park. 

We left camp at 8:30 or so, and began a climb of about 1,000' to the top of a fire tower on Albert Mountain. The last 1/4 mile before the fire tower was a hands-and-knees scramble up rock faces unlike anything we've climbed so far. At some point during this climb we unceremoniously passed the 100th mile mark of the Appalachian Trail.  I high-fived myself, I'm now 1/22nd of the way to Katahdin. Upon arriving the tower was locked, but the four stories of exposed staircases let us get up over the trees to a beautiful view of the mountain ridges to the east. This was also the first time many of us have had cell service in the past few days. The coverage area is drastically different in NC vs what we had in Georgia. A few phone calls, booked hotel rooms for Franklin, NC, and posted blog entries gave us almost an hour of leisurely time at the fire tower. Moments like these, with new friends like these, are the ones I'll remember. I'm really happy that we got a few photos of the group with the mountains in the background. 

We had decided early that the majority of us would be sticking together mileage wise, as we've fallen in a comfortable gap between the main hiking groups on either side of us. Pushing those extra 4 miles yesterday bought us some leeway to less occupied shelters, campsites, etc. With the end goal of 110.8 miles in mind, myself, Kevin (now officially trail named: Crusoe), Doc, Keegan, Turkey, and four-legged Cormack played leapfrog for most of the afternoon. Due to his appearance in a supporting role for the next few days, I'd like to go into a little more detail about Papa Doc... In his early 50s, Doc looks like a twin brother to ZZ Top frontman Billy Gibbs, and he's quite the character himself. We all met up again for lunch at a 1 year old shelter, wooden beams still smelling richly and glowing with a gorgeous red stain.  We continued our walking by several waterfalls (pictures to come) and meandered through the hills for quite a while. This changed, however, and with some good sweat inducing climbs in the sunny 80 degree heat, we put a lot of effort into getting to camp this afternoon. I walked alone for a while, and mentally debated the pronunciation of the word nuclear. Is it nuke-yuh-ler, nuke-lee-r? These are the pressing issues at hand in my world, and I'm not complaining in the slightest. For what it's worth my pronunciation falls towards the latter of the two. I wish I could gift friends, co-workers, and strangers alike with the ability to think so freely and without agenda, about such pointless things. Back with Kevin we spent a while talking about more serious topics like climbing Kilimanjaro, the European zoo that recently killed the lions and giraffe, and the depletion of fish species from the world's oceans. The conversation is never boring. At the final road crossing before where we intended to stop, fellow hikers Bulldog & Deep Woods hitched a shuttle ride into town for a zero day tomorrow. I hope to see them again.  The tent site we aimed for has room for 2 tents next to a stream, which were already placed and occupied. Due to the next campsite being a mile uphill with no water, our half-dozen member group decided to attempt squeezing in. Sure enough, we've fit 9 tents into space for 2, including one that was put up at 7p (in theory after the last hikers would walk by) and placed in the middle of the trail. We'll be up early enough to not disturb anyone. From a distance, we look like a makeshift base-camp on Mt. Everest. Dinner was a yummy fettuccini alfredo with bacon crumbles - not my normal meal, but great nonetheless. I can make meals like that by just boiling water. We talked for a while, staying somewhat separated from the four others who had settled before we did. Kevin and I have passed them before, and we've discussed them at length due to the strange vibe they give off and the sneakers/suitcase looking backpacks they carry.  While I do my best to not judge too quickly, we sure have encountered some strange individuals on this stretch of trail.

As I'm laying in my bed typing this, I'm half-listening to a drunk hiker/self appointed philosopher preach (loudly and disruptively, given the code of bed-at-dark) the ways of successfully hiking through to Maine. Our speaker Carver, a storied hiker reporting 6,000 miles of walking last year, although repeatedly announcing his intoxication, has some good points. If you're not enjoying it, it's not right for you. This is about creating a memory for a lifetime, one that you can look back on as an enjoyable and life changing undertaking. Certainly good insight, Carver. It's been frequent conversation lately that per Appalachian Mountain Club (AMC) statistics, 25% of hikers have already headed home from their A.T. attempts.  Recognizing each one has their own reason, story, gained insight, what have you, I wonder what my fate with this trail is. Tomorrow, I'll continue my walk in the woods with a smile on my face. 

Onward & upward. 

Cell service has been spotty. I'm posting from a fire tower on top of a mountain, soaking up amazing panoramic views of the Smokies. Photos to come :)

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Day: 8

Day mileage: 16.3 mi

AT total mileage: 97.7 mi

Time: 7:43

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I awoke to another gorgeous morning on the Trail, with temperatures low in the 40s. As I put away my tent. my morning cinnamon raisin bagel, and took my multi-vitamin, I noticed that the shelter had filled in quite a lot more than I'd seen it last night. In what looked to be sprawled out like tents at the original Woodstock festival, campsites had been set up on every inch of the property, including lower levels and next to the creek. I suppose a lot of people had decided that was the place to stop!  We hit the trail around 8:30, per our usual, and meandered along a great ridge including some peaks well over 4,500 feet for about two hours. During this comparatively casual morning walk, I had a section of the 18" wide trail give out under my left foot, causing me to start sliding down the slope of the mountain. With the frustration I've had with my right knee lately, I'm surprised it didn't cause me severe damage when my right leg twisted perpendicular to my torso. Using trekking poles as support, I was able to climb forwards back on the trail. Quite the exciting moment. 

At mile 86, two hours after beginning, we came to the base of the next big obstacle: Standing Indian Mountain. The next two trail miles would include the climb to the summit, standing over one mile above sea level at 5,498 feet tall.  I'm insanely impressed to inform you that Kevin and I made it up in 1 hour, 24 minutes.  With a steady pace, and lots of switchbacks we found ourselves at the summit of the mountain, a large grass opening with gorgeous panoramic views, an area that used to be home to a Forest Service fire tower. The western view overlooks the valley of the Tullulah River, as well as many mountains the AT has already traversed. We ate lunch at the top with a half dozen other hikers including Papa Doc- psych. professor on sabbatical at Avery University who is hiking with his recent college grad son Keegan (also present), Wild Turkey- a Chicago based ESL teacher- and her 3 year old Irish wolfhound named Cormack. After eating I closed my eyes, basking in the daylight, and drifted off with my Red Sox hat shading my eyes from the sun. After a few minutes of no talking on the summit, I began drifting through my thoughts, and the scene in my mind began to change. Between the warmth of the sunlight, to the smell of my hat over my face, to the sound of the ocean waves crashing on the shore, this moment could have been one of a thousand summer days as a kid on Nantucket Island with my mom. The summer sunlight and warmth of the dunes, part played by the sun and warm grass surrounding me; the sound of the waves, part played by the gentle breezes blowing through the leafs and tree branches of summit vegetation. It's amazing how that kind of sensory stimulation can transmit you miles, even years away from wherever you are.

We stayed at the summit for over an hour just relaxing. These moments of feeling like there's nowhere else to be are moments I'll remember forever. The ease of just being right there at that second, is something that I hope the trail will afford me with a lot of. After parting with a few other trail friends (by this point Doc, Keegan, Wild Turkey, and Cormack had left) we flew through what was nearly 5 miles of amazing downhills from the summit of the mountain. We passed under many green tunnels of trees, and by many rushing streams that we needed to cross by hopping on rocks.  We talked aimlessly about movies, music, friendships, travel, etc. Conversation is limitless. At mile 94, we came across Carter Gap Shelter, and after sharing a Snicker's bar with Doug & Becca from last night's campfire, we decided to push on the 3.7 miles to a campsite further along the trail. As we merged back onto the Trail from the shelter trail, we fell into formation with Doc, Keegan, Turkey, and the pup again. At a phenomenal (and for the first time pain free) pace, we walked another 2 hours along to Betty Creek Gap. Since summiting Standing Indian, we've still not crossed under 4,200' of elevation. We're gearing up for the +6,000'  elevations we'll encounter in the Smokies very soon. 

Upon reaching camp we set up tents with two other hikers, Fumbles and  .  Wandering almost 1/3 mile to a gorgeous creek, we all sat with our feet in the frigid water, taking the heat off after nearly 8 hours of being stuffed into shoes and boots. It was unbelievably cold, but felt incredible.  The sun was beginning to set, the light dancing in the  stream, four hikers relaxing and a puppy chasing sticks through the water.  Dinner was cooked, and we gathered around a campfire until the sun set and the stars started peeking out from the blue-hour sky. The moon's still gearing up to be full, but again illuminates my tent. 

I like these hikers and their pace. Maybe they'll be a good group to latch on to for a few days. Cell service has been spotty, but I believe the GPS is still working flawlessly. That's all I've got to say about that!

Onward & upward...

Day: 7

Day mileage: 11.6 mi

AT total mileage: 81.4 mi

Time: 7:15

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What. A. Day. Gorgeous, sunny, low 70s. 

Staying in the hostel was weird. It was packed with people, many of whom I know, but the bunk under where I was sleeping became occupied after I'd fallen asleep.  Had I never seen this individual face to face, I'd have guessed them to be a middle aged obese man with a sinus issue, solely due to the noises emitted from their face throughout the night.  Come morning, I find out the perpetrator is a 5' 4" woman. In no way to I mean to sound sexist, but wow, I was certainly surprised. I took one more very quick shower before we were shepherded out of the hostel and driven back up to the trail at 0800. Before leaving the hostel, I applied some Capsaicin cream to my knee and the top of my foot where pain has been present. The basic ingredient of said arthritis-aimed pain reliever is ground up peppers. This will come into play later. 

We (Kevin and I) began the hike and slowly climbed out of the gap we were in. Knowing today had a few climbs, but also the exciting prospect of the state line crossing, we pushed forwards with the goal of making it to a shelter at mile 86. This was ambitious, but not out of line with our hiking mileage from the past few days.  Not even half an hour onto the trail, I started noticing something was wrong with my feet. Although I applied the same small dosage of the medication to my knees and feet, my feet were reacting quite differently than my knees. They felt as if they were literally on fire. Words will not do justice to the apparent inferno that was ablaze inside my shoes. It actually became unbearable enough that in a rush to make it even a bit more tolerable, I emptied all 32 immediately available ounces of water out of my water bottle onto my feet. This didn't exactly 'solve' my problem, but it made it a bit more tolerable for the time being. It felt as if my feet had each eaten a dozen jalapeños, followed with a plate of the hottest buffalo tenders you've ever consumed, with no beverage to balance it all out. The looks I got from other hikers while pouring water on my feet were quite comical. Once I felt capable of walking again, we headed along the trail, playing leapfrog with three guys that we've been seeing for the past few days. T-Bird, a recently retired robotics/automation electrician for International Trucks, Murray, who today celebrated his 51st birthday, and Murray's son 'O' which is short for some trail name that I don't remember. O and Murray live in Orlando where O is finishing his masters degree in performance/teaching the trumpet. These three keep a good pace, and are great conversation.  About 4 and a half hours into our hike we came to the small wooden sign on a tree marking, albeit anticlimactically, the state line between Georgia and North Carolina. This was it! One state down, 13 to go.... Haha. Only 13 to go.

So this is all well and good. We snap some photos of each other, refill our water supplies at a great tent site right after the state line (this tent site is where I'd intended on staying last night had we hiked) and head.. Up. There's a great tree at Bly Gap that's famously photographed and is an awesome distraction from the hell that's about to be unleashed on your calf muscles.  It really doesn't seem like much on a map, but in the course of 1.2 miles we'd gain over 1,000 feet in elevation. Unlike most climbs, this one had almost no switchbacks, meaning it was a pure straight walk up the side of this mountain. I'll attach a photo of the elevation map below to explain my point. Anyway, by the time I finished the second one, I thought my heart would fall right out of my chest and I'd die right then and there, barely two miles into the state of North Carolina. For better or worse the world has other plans for me, and I survived without cardiac arrest, although I'm almost positive I left a gallon of sweat on the trail of this climb. 

The scenery is starting to change already.  Trees have new buds ready to bloom, small flowers line the trail, and the birds chirp incessantly as I walk along. At one point sitting on the trail, a half dozen mice ran out and around where we were.  One notable thing about North Carolina is the sparkle in the dirt and rocks. From what I remember, this is the state with the largest mineral exports in the United States. It seems there's sediment everywhere, and it's quite captivating to the eye as I walk along.  At one point we were walking through Sassafrass Gap and I was reciting lines from Forrest Gump out loud (those who know me are aware that I can do a pretty spot on Forrest voice) which would be quite comical later at the shelter when a woman arrived and said 'we're you the guys flying by our lunch site reciting Gump??!' ...Guilty as charged, she thought it was quite comical for the middle of the woods.  After the many hours of climbing today, we found a great vista to hang out at, laying down and napping for a few minutes looking out over the mountain chain in front of us. A quick discussion led us to agree to stay at the next shelter we'd come to, Muskrat Creek, at mile 81.4 instead of pushing on for another two or three hours. As such, we were able to set up tents and relax for a while before dinner. We met Viva, Doug, and    here at the shelter, the latter two living only miles from where I did in Orlando a few years ago. Small world. It felt really nice to not stroll into camp so late. 

Dinner was ramen noodles, some Mac & cheese, and an oatmeal raisin cookie. We all sat around a somewhat pathetic excuse of a fire for a while before heading up to the vista to watch the sun go down over the valley. No cell service at the tent site means I won't be posting this before bed, but as I type it there are a few owls conversing with hoots in the trees around our tents. The moon is gorgeous and bright tonight, easily illuminating my tent as I lay here. There's a peacefulness in these tent sites after a long day that's hard to describe.  

Tomorrow's a new day. Enjoy the photos. I wish I could post the ones from my dSLR but the iPhone ones will have to do for now. 

Onward & upward.