This is inspired by jo(e)'s latest post, but so loosely and tangentially that it seems silly to put it in the comments there.
At one point in my AT hike, I caught up with my friend Fishdance, who was standing in the middle of the Trail, stock still. (Mo, were you there, too?) There was a large black snake spread all the way across the path several yards ahead. I stopped next to him and we discussed the snake for a second or two. It was big, seriously thick around the middle, and looked perfectly happy to stay there all day. It looked like it had nothing planned at all except to stay there all day. What to do?
Diva Dog, who was usually a little behind me, caught up. We called to her to stop, but it was too late. She passed us in her dog backpack.
Her paw came down on the snake, the pads spreading slightly as if she were stepping on a smooth stone.
The snake's gleaming, muscular body flattened out slightly under her weight.
Her paw came off of the snake.
The snake returned, unchanged and unmoved, to its original shape.
Diva Dog turned and looked back at us, curious about why we were focused on her, why we were stopped, and what we were making all the fuss about. Deciding it was simply her, and delighted at all the attention, she started to move back towards us, still showing no sign at all that she was aware of the snake's presence. Anxious that she not step on the snake again, I stepped across it. We all did. The snake took no action to move out of the way.
Clearly, we had given it no reason to change its plans.
Showing posts with label GA to ME 1998. Show all posts
Showing posts with label GA to ME 1998. Show all posts
Monday, August 25, 2008
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
5/15/98--Hot Springs, NC
(Note to all: These are transcribed trail journals I wrote by hand on a 1998 thru-hike. They were originally written for pre-blog era web publication, and were hand-transcribed at the time. Those archives are gone, so I'm reproducing them now. To catch up on the whole hike, click on the tag at the bottom and start from the beginning. --S.)
106.7 miles from Fontana Dam
What did I say about long days? 19.4 to make it here at around 7:15, which means I'm hiking at 2 mph again. My arch hasn't been hurting until mile 16 or so, but on the other hand I've had some vexing problems with my hipbelt, which has been making the surface of my upper right thigh go cold and half-numb. I'm not sure if it's circulation or nerves that have been squashed, or what the long-terrm effects might be. Hopefully, a day off will help.
The Trail was once again a charming place to be: sunny, friendly grades. Sunrise on Max Patch was the mirror image of sunset, and the descent took us through a long tunnel of rhododendron that seemed like something from a children's book. The day continued with beautiful streams, an historic shelter, a snake, a turtle, a toad (reptile and amphibian day on the Appalachian Trail). I hadn't planned to make it all the way to town, but when I got to the last shelter the final few miles seemed eminently doable and I am so happy I made that call. At some points I was almost running down the last descent, I was so glad to be coming in to town. There was a room still free at D. House, which was where I'd been hoping to stay (on Florida Tim's recommendation--thanks!) and it's a more healing place than I can hope to convey.
The evidence of love put into restoring this old farmhouse and tending its grounds is just enormous. The care that B. and F. have for what they're doing shows in the finish on the floors, the shampoo in the bathroom, the wildflowers on the mantle, the water carafe on the table, the spruce trees by the roadside. B's cooking is wonderful, reminding me of meals cooked by talented friends. I can understand why people have to tear themselves away.
Tomorrow an entire day with no pack on my back! Hooray!!
106.7 miles from Fontana Dam
What did I say about long days? 19.4 to make it here at around 7:15, which means I'm hiking at 2 mph again. My arch hasn't been hurting until mile 16 or so, but on the other hand I've had some vexing problems with my hipbelt, which has been making the surface of my upper right thigh go cold and half-numb. I'm not sure if it's circulation or nerves that have been squashed, or what the long-terrm effects might be. Hopefully, a day off will help.
The Trail was once again a charming place to be: sunny, friendly grades. Sunrise on Max Patch was the mirror image of sunset, and the descent took us through a long tunnel of rhododendron that seemed like something from a children's book. The day continued with beautiful streams, an historic shelter, a snake, a turtle, a toad (reptile and amphibian day on the Appalachian Trail). I hadn't planned to make it all the way to town, but when I got to the last shelter the final few miles seemed eminently doable and I am so happy I made that call. At some points I was almost running down the last descent, I was so glad to be coming in to town. There was a room still free at D. House, which was where I'd been hoping to stay (on Florida Tim's recommendation--thanks!) and it's a more healing place than I can hope to convey.
The evidence of love put into restoring this old farmhouse and tending its grounds is just enormous. The care that B. and F. have for what they're doing shows in the finish on the floors, the shampoo in the bathroom, the wildflowers on the mantle, the water carafe on the table, the spruce trees by the roadside. B's cooking is wonderful, reminding me of meals cooked by talented friends. I can understand why people have to tear themselves away.
Tomorrow an entire day with no pack on my back! Hooray!!
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Will you tell me duh storewy
...about Mama and [Diva Dog] wauking in duh woods?
S.: Well, Mama and Diva Dog were walking in the woods and we found a good place to put up our tarp for the night. So we got under it and we tried to go to sleep, when we heard a "Crash! Crash! Crash!" in the forest. And what was it?
Z.: It was uh beawr!
S.: That's right, it was a bear. And what did Mama say?
Z.: Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away!
S.: And the bear went away! Everything was quiet. But then Mama and Diva Dog heard "Crash! Crash! Crash!" again in the forest. And I held Diva Dog's snout so she wouldn't growl, and I said ...
Z.: Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away!
S.: ...and we didn't hear that bear any more. But the next morning, what did I find?
Z.: Duh beawr's food! And Mama left dat beawr's food right dair, so duh beawr could take dat food home to da forwest, and duh beawr could put dat food away. And dair awr no kitchens in da forwest.
(Illustration by Z.)
(It's not meant to be anything in particular.)
(A budding Rothko, no?)
S.: Well, Mama and Diva Dog were walking in the woods and we found a good place to put up our tarp for the night. So we got under it and we tried to go to sleep, when we heard a "Crash! Crash! Crash!" in the forest. And what was it?
Z.: It was uh beawr!
S.: That's right, it was a bear. And what did Mama say?
Z.: Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away!
S.: And the bear went away! Everything was quiet. But then Mama and Diva Dog heard "Crash! Crash! Crash!" again in the forest. And I held Diva Dog's snout so she wouldn't growl, and I said ...
Z.: Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away!
S.: ...and we didn't hear that bear any more. But the next morning, what did I find?
Z.: Duh beawr's food! And Mama left dat beawr's food right dair, so duh beawr could take dat food home to da forwest, and duh beawr could put dat food away. And dair awr no kitchens in da forwest.
(Illustration by Z.)
(It's not meant to be anything in particular.)
(A budding Rothko, no?)
Friday, August 10, 2007
Hike: Max Patch Summit
5/14/98--Max Patch Summit, 87.3 miles (from Fontana)
Cooked and ate supper at the creek, arriving at the summit with full belly and full water bottles. The timing couldn't have been more beautiful -- the sun was a prefect orange circle fading into blue-grey beyond and just above the mountains, which ringed us in all directions. Max Patch itself took my breath away -- the grassy foothills rolling up to it, dotted with shrubs, boulders, and patches of raspberry. I'd expected a variation on the "grassy bald" I'd seen at Cheoah, but this was a completely different kind of mountain. It seemed like an entire countryside -- decidedly American in its wildness, but reminded me of the rolling hills of the English Lake District.
Counting in the roadwalk from Mtn. Moma's this was another day over 17 -- again, my longest. I started off with a good yogi -- a banana and an apple from a woman who couldn't give us a lift because of the German Shepherd in the back of her car. Diva Dog loved being back on the Trail and I loved being out of the Smokies. The Trail has resumed its life as a footpath, not a muddy riverbed, with solid, duff-covered dirt under our feet.
Wildlife on the Trail today: 2 toads, one of the common American variety, one redderr and bumpier; fields of poison ivy; fields and fields of trillium; the first wild strawberries I've seen in fruit; lady's slipper orchids--stunning; a puddle full of tadpoles; white and variegated violets near Groundhog Creek Shelter. Former wildlife on the Trail: a very dead snake on the road from Mtn Moma's and a beautiful, huge spring-green butterfly that looked much more exotic than any of the others we've seen. Editor's note: this was a luna moth. Never alive, but wild enough: a conical, white, buzzing structure on top of Snowbird Mtn -- turned out to be an FAA homing device.
Cooked and ate supper at the creek, arriving at the summit with full belly and full water bottles. The timing couldn't have been more beautiful -- the sun was a prefect orange circle fading into blue-grey beyond and just above the mountains, which ringed us in all directions. Max Patch itself took my breath away -- the grassy foothills rolling up to it, dotted with shrubs, boulders, and patches of raspberry. I'd expected a variation on the "grassy bald" I'd seen at Cheoah, but this was a completely different kind of mountain. It seemed like an entire countryside -- decidedly American in its wildness, but reminded me of the rolling hills of the English Lake District.
Counting in the roadwalk from Mtn. Moma's this was another day over 17 -- again, my longest. I started off with a good yogi -- a banana and an apple from a woman who couldn't give us a lift because of the German Shepherd in the back of her car. Diva Dog loved being back on the Trail and I loved being out of the Smokies. The Trail has resumed its life as a footpath, not a muddy riverbed, with solid, duff-covered dirt under our feet.
Wildlife on the Trail today: 2 toads, one of the common American variety, one redderr and bumpier; fields of poison ivy; fields and fields of trillium; the first wild strawberries I've seen in fruit; lady's slipper orchids--stunning; a puddle full of tadpoles; white and variegated violets near Groundhog Creek Shelter. Former wildlife on the Trail: a very dead snake on the road from Mtn Moma's and a beautiful, huge spring-green butterfly that looked much more exotic than any of the others we've seen. Editor's note: this was a luna moth. Never alive, but wild enough: a conical, white, buzzing structure on top of Snowbird Mtn -- turned out to be an FAA homing device.
Hike: Tri-Corner Knob Shelter
5/12/98--Tri-Corner Knob Shelter, 55.6 miles from Fontana, 219.1 from Springer
10% of the Trail completed today. It was a beautiful day, too, not too long to go, not too hard to hike, and stunning views for my efforts. Got off to a late start b/c I loafed around camp, enjoying breakfast in the unbelievable warm sunshine. Not much else to report, though--life was beautiful, the living was easy. I can tell the story of yesterday's lunch, tho'--I cooked me some ramen at Mt. Collins Shelter. The shelter squirrel, working the day shift to the shelter mice's night shift, decided it was interesting and came to watch. I told him--or her--to go away, in various terms--he or she would back off, then approach once more, and so it went until, as I was packing up she or he approached my chocolate. I threw small sticks at it, which only worked once because it could see that I didn't intend to hurt it. I went over and shooed it to a corner. It once again approached my dessert. It took a piece and scurried off--I told it "no," I harbored unworthy thoughts that chocolate would prove as fatal to squirrels as to dogs. I lamented that this particular chocolate--sent to me in a maildrop from a friend in England--should contain hazelnuts, undoubtedly appealing to a shelter squirrel. At last, I returned to my packing, having protected my remaining sweets. The squirrel, well-fed and unpoisoned, returned. I threw larger sticks, with no more lethal aim than before. It continued towards my foodbag even though this now meant approaching quite close to me. This was too cheeky, so I took a deep breath and hissed, loudly. Suddenly, the squirrel couldn't get away from me fast enough.
10% of the Trail completed today. It was a beautiful day, too, not too long to go, not too hard to hike, and stunning views for my efforts. Got off to a late start b/c I loafed around camp, enjoying breakfast in the unbelievable warm sunshine. Not much else to report, though--life was beautiful, the living was easy. I can tell the story of yesterday's lunch, tho'--I cooked me some ramen at Mt. Collins Shelter. The shelter squirrel, working the day shift to the shelter mice's night shift, decided it was interesting and came to watch. I told him--or her--to go away, in various terms--he or she would back off, then approach once more, and so it went until, as I was packing up she or he approached my chocolate. I threw small sticks at it, which only worked once because it could see that I didn't intend to hurt it. I went over and shooed it to a corner. It once again approached my dessert. It took a piece and scurried off--I told it "no," I harbored unworthy thoughts that chocolate would prove as fatal to squirrels as to dogs. I lamented that this particular chocolate--sent to me in a maildrop from a friend in England--should contain hazelnuts, undoubtedly appealing to a shelter squirrel. At last, I returned to my packing, having protected my remaining sweets. The squirrel, well-fed and unpoisoned, returned. I threw larger sticks, with no more lethal aim than before. It continued towards my foodbag even though this now meant approaching quite close to me. This was too cheeky, so I took a deep breath and hissed, loudly. Suddenly, the squirrel couldn't get away from me fast enough.
Hike: Icewater Spring Shelter
5/11/98--Icewater Spring Shelter, 43 miles (from Fontana)
The trail only got worse this morning. Actually, it only got worse until well into the afternoon--the whole damn treadway could use bog bridges from Russell Field to Indian Gap. It sucked at my boots, it seeped in the eyelets. It spattered as high as my knees. I was using my hiking poles as much probes--it was up to 8 inches thick of Miserable, just a trough (as someone wrote in the registers.)
Hiked as far as Mt. Collins Shelter, right on Setback's trail, then she headed on for Newfound Gap and Gatlinburg, to check on her ailing hiking partner. She hasn't shown up at the shelter yet, so I guess that means they're heading back up to Virginia. I wish them luck and easy trails.
I enjoyed a 2-hour lunch that ended in blue skies. Still had a few miles of mud to plow and slide through, but by the time I got across Newfound Gap I was finding trail I could live with. Fingers crossed for tomorrow.
The wind in the Smokies is intense. It sounds like the ocean. It will gust up and slap the side of the mountain, often just above or below me--I hear it more than I feel it. So this morning, even though it was only cloudy and not raining it sounded like a tempest crashing through the trees.
Crossed Clingman's Dome, highest point on the Trail, but visibility was so low it wasn't worth bothering with the Tower. Ah well. There will be more mountains, that's for sure. --MC
The trail only got worse this morning. Actually, it only got worse until well into the afternoon--the whole damn treadway could use bog bridges from Russell Field to Indian Gap. It sucked at my boots, it seeped in the eyelets. It spattered as high as my knees. I was using my hiking poles as much probes--it was up to 8 inches thick of Miserable, just a trough (as someone wrote in the registers.)
Hiked as far as Mt. Collins Shelter, right on Setback's trail, then she headed on for Newfound Gap and Gatlinburg, to check on her ailing hiking partner. She hasn't shown up at the shelter yet, so I guess that means they're heading back up to Virginia. I wish them luck and easy trails.
I enjoyed a 2-hour lunch that ended in blue skies. Still had a few miles of mud to plow and slide through, but by the time I got across Newfound Gap I was finding trail I could live with. Fingers crossed for tomorrow.
The wind in the Smokies is intense. It sounds like the ocean. It will gust up and slap the side of the mountain, often just above or below me--I hear it more than I feel it. So this morning, even though it was only cloudy and not raining it sounded like a tempest crashing through the trees.
Crossed Clingman's Dome, highest point on the Trail, but visibility was so low it wasn't worth bothering with the Tower. Ah well. There will be more mountains, that's for sure. --MC
Hike: Double Spring Shelter
5/10/98--Double Spring Shelter--29.2 miles (from Fontana)
Rain. Mud. Slogging. All the livelong day. I did catch up with Setback--she sheltered ahead of me last night and I got a late start this morning, so it wasn't 'til the shelter that I found her. Man, I wouldn't have been saying all of that about no weekenders if I'd made it to Spence last night--it was full, and it sounds like Derrick Knob was, too. And tonight I think we've got 9 or so.
I think I was woken by a bear last night--I heard snuffling and breathing and decided not to turn over to see.
I am not liking the Smokies. They call the AT a long, green tunnel but here it's been a long, brown puddle. --MC
Rain. Mud. Slogging. All the livelong day. I did catch up with Setback--she sheltered ahead of me last night and I got a late start this morning, so it wasn't 'til the shelter that I found her. Man, I wouldn't have been saying all of that about no weekenders if I'd made it to Spence last night--it was full, and it sounds like Derrick Knob was, too. And tonight I think we've got 9 or so.
I think I was woken by a bear last night--I heard snuffling and breathing and decided not to turn over to see.
I am not liking the Smokies. They call the AT a long, green tunnel but here it's been a long, brown puddle. --MC
Hike: Russell Field Shelter
Where to begin--the trip to Nashville convinced me I should definitely be walking right now, not anywhere near automobiles, so even though today wasn't the greatest hiking, well, it feels like home.
A big, big thank you to the folks at the Fontana Motel and even bigger thanks to the owner of Loving Care Kennels. She drove me (and Diva Dog) to Pigeon Forge and then dropped me off at the rental car place. There my troubles began. The car had windshield wipers that stopped on the upswing. Its air conditioner blew lukewarm air. It was an automatic and it stalled at a traffic light. And it died in Knoxville, less than an hour and a half after I picked it up, and part of that time I'd been on the shoulder, waiting for a hailstorm to pass. I left it with the tow-truck guy for the Pigeon Forge rental people to pick up, rented a new car from Enterprise and was on my way.
It was great to see my family all in one place, and it definitely made me proud to see my brother with diploma in hand, so it was worth it, but it was a long round trip. My parents left me off at the Fontana Hilton after midnight, a hiker again.
Note: being in a real city is almost easier than being in a Trail town--especially wearing town clothes. It's like being on vacation from hiking, not like racing around trying to fit "civilized" errands into your hiking schedule. I didn't really need the reminder of how much weight I'm losing, tho'--those clothes fit three weeks ago.
Alright--back to the hiking journal. It was a dry day and a sunny afternoon, for which I was grateful because it didn't look like it would go that way. The Trail seemed pretty quiet for a weekend--in fact, I'm alone in the shelter tonight--one other northbound thruhiker, a girl named Setback who has had a few, and a southbounder whose been on the Trail since June 16th. I can't even imagine, it's so different from the way I'm hiking. A few weekenders, but nothing like my first "I hate weekends" experience, which surprised me, considering it is the Smokies but I'll take what I can get.
I saw two deer today--no, 3, actually--and a lot of tracks in the Trail near (of course) Doe Knob. I also saw 3 horses, mounted by 2 humans. On the AT. I'd been warned, but it didn't make me any happier to have to hike over the trail they'd messed up.
Overall, I'm not too impressed with the Smokies--the trail, after the initial climb, was muddy and hard to slog through. Horses? People? Certainly overuse. There was a nice stretch of newly-cut trail after Ekanatha Gap that made me pretty happy, but I can't imagine it will stay that way for long --MC
A big, big thank you to the folks at the Fontana Motel and even bigger thanks to the owner of Loving Care Kennels. She drove me (and Diva Dog) to Pigeon Forge and then dropped me off at the rental car place. There my troubles began. The car had windshield wipers that stopped on the upswing. Its air conditioner blew lukewarm air. It was an automatic and it stalled at a traffic light. And it died in Knoxville, less than an hour and a half after I picked it up, and part of that time I'd been on the shoulder, waiting for a hailstorm to pass. I left it with the tow-truck guy for the Pigeon Forge rental people to pick up, rented a new car from Enterprise and was on my way.
It was great to see my family all in one place, and it definitely made me proud to see my brother with diploma in hand, so it was worth it, but it was a long round trip. My parents left me off at the Fontana Hilton after midnight, a hiker again.
Note: being in a real city is almost easier than being in a Trail town--especially wearing town clothes. It's like being on vacation from hiking, not like racing around trying to fit "civilized" errands into your hiking schedule. I didn't really need the reminder of how much weight I'm losing, tho'--those clothes fit three weeks ago.
Alright--back to the hiking journal. It was a dry day and a sunny afternoon, for which I was grateful because it didn't look like it would go that way. The Trail seemed pretty quiet for a weekend--in fact, I'm alone in the shelter tonight--one other northbound thruhiker, a girl named Setback who has had a few, and a southbounder whose been on the Trail since June 16th. I can't even imagine, it's so different from the way I'm hiking. A few weekenders, but nothing like my first "I hate weekends" experience, which surprised me, considering it is the Smokies but I'll take what I can get.
I saw two deer today--no, 3, actually--and a lot of tracks in the Trail near (of course) Doe Knob. I also saw 3 horses, mounted by 2 humans. On the AT. I'd been warned, but it didn't make me any happier to have to hike over the trail they'd messed up.
Overall, I'm not too impressed with the Smokies--the trail, after the initial climb, was muddy and hard to slog through. Horses? People? Certainly overuse. There was a nice stretch of newly-cut trail after Ekanatha Gap that made me pretty happy, but I can't imagine it will stay that way for long --MC
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Hike: Cable Gap Shelter
5/5/98--Cable Gap Shelter, 156.2 miles
It was our first 15-mile day and we couldn't have had a better day for it. It dawned clear--actually cloudless--and by the end of the day nothing more than a few harmless cumulus clouds had passed overhead. I packed up and said goodbye to Florida Tim (my sheltermate of last night) before 8 and passed a bunch of southbound section hikers breaking camp as I came up and over Cheoah Bald. Staying put at Sassafras Gap was definitely the right call all around. Not only did I avoid some nasty weather, but the tent site I'd been aiming for was pretty well occupied and I got to hear stories of Florida Tim's '91 thru-hike, which got me jazzed again. I want to live stories like that. Trail magic, good times, kooky adventures, characters. It reminded me of all the stuff beyond putting in the miles.
But we did put in the miles, and I feel pretty good. Beat. More tired than after 12, but not in any more pain. Diva Dog, too came in fine--no limping at all, and only a little more lagging behind. Our pattern is that she gets out ahead of me on ascents and waits for me to catch up, then on ridges, switchbacks, and gentle descents I take the lead. On steeper descents we play it by ear. Today there was one spot where she had to go down between two rocks and I realized what a good thing it is that everything in her pack is not only waterproof but trailproof, as I took it off and tossed it about 8 feet down so I could keep my hands free to follow her myself.
Took a 2-hour lunch at Brown Fork Shelter and let all my stuff dry in the sun. My damp synthetic bag did keep me warm last night, not not happy. Also appreciated the luxury of a new privy with a view of the mountains and thought--wow, this is where I'm living.
Have an urge to re-read Walden, the Narnia books, and Lolita. Go figure. The Fantastic Four have moved on to Fontana Dam but N. (Pan) reports in the register here that they may split up for awhile. I hope that was an amicable decision. Cheerios is also ahead. Tomorrow I have about 7 miles to the Dam and the visitor center, then the folks from the motel say they'll come pick me up--then 2-3 nights off-trail for my brother's graduation and I should start the Smokies, sans Diva Dog, on Saturday the 9th. Unless something comes up I don't think I'll write til I get back on. Ciao for now. --MC
It was our first 15-mile day and we couldn't have had a better day for it. It dawned clear--actually cloudless--and by the end of the day nothing more than a few harmless cumulus clouds had passed overhead. I packed up and said goodbye to Florida Tim (my sheltermate of last night) before 8 and passed a bunch of southbound section hikers breaking camp as I came up and over Cheoah Bald. Staying put at Sassafras Gap was definitely the right call all around. Not only did I avoid some nasty weather, but the tent site I'd been aiming for was pretty well occupied and I got to hear stories of Florida Tim's '91 thru-hike, which got me jazzed again. I want to live stories like that. Trail magic, good times, kooky adventures, characters. It reminded me of all the stuff beyond putting in the miles.
But we did put in the miles, and I feel pretty good. Beat. More tired than after 12, but not in any more pain. Diva Dog, too came in fine--no limping at all, and only a little more lagging behind. Our pattern is that she gets out ahead of me on ascents and waits for me to catch up, then on ridges, switchbacks, and gentle descents I take the lead. On steeper descents we play it by ear. Today there was one spot where she had to go down between two rocks and I realized what a good thing it is that everything in her pack is not only waterproof but trailproof, as I took it off and tossed it about 8 feet down so I could keep my hands free to follow her myself.
Took a 2-hour lunch at Brown Fork Shelter and let all my stuff dry in the sun. My damp synthetic bag did keep me warm last night, not not happy. Also appreciated the luxury of a new privy with a view of the mountains and thought--wow, this is where I'm living.
Have an urge to re-read Walden, the Narnia books, and Lolita. Go figure. The Fantastic Four have moved on to Fontana Dam but N. (Pan) reports in the register here that they may split up for awhile. I hope that was an amicable decision. Cheerios is also ahead. Tomorrow I have about 7 miles to the Dam and the visitor center, then the folks from the motel say they'll come pick me up--then 2-3 nights off-trail for my brother's graduation and I should start the Smokies, sans Diva Dog, on Saturday the 9th. Unless something comes up I don't think I'll write til I get back on. Ciao for now. --MC
Hike: Sassafras Gap Shelter
5/4/98--Sassafras Gap Shelter, 141.0 4:45 pm
Shortest day yet--not quite 7 miles, almost all uphill. The plan had been to push on and tent at Locust Cove Gap, doing yet another 10-12 miles, but by the time I got here and finished lunch and it finished raining (for the moment, at least) it was after 4 so I'm going to pull my first 15-mile day tomorrow, instead. I'm actually tired enough to go to sleep right now. It may just be from lack of stimulus. I'm not alone--another hiker is here who's been on the Bartram Trail and is taking the AT back to his car on Wayah Bald--but the Fantastic 4 pushed on the 9 miles to Brown Fork and Cheerios is tenting somewhere along the way, so comparatively speaking, this is a desert island, and I feel like collapsing into the solitude.
I did a return trip to the NOC this morning, which explains the lateness of the hour. The prospect of putting my pack on again was just too much. For the past few days, from at least before Franklin, my left rhomboids--muscles that attach the shoulder blade to the spine--went into spasm the moment I put the thing on and stayed in serious pain until I took it off. It's certainly been contributing to my crankiness and discouragement. Well. The staff at the NOC came through again, giving me almost opposite advice from what I got at Walasi-Yi, but this seems to have done it. There was actually space behind my shoulders. Hooray!
Well, there's dinner to eat in a couple of hours, but I may try to nap in the meantime. --MC
Shortest day yet--not quite 7 miles, almost all uphill. The plan had been to push on and tent at Locust Cove Gap, doing yet another 10-12 miles, but by the time I got here and finished lunch and it finished raining (for the moment, at least) it was after 4 so I'm going to pull my first 15-mile day tomorrow, instead. I'm actually tired enough to go to sleep right now. It may just be from lack of stimulus. I'm not alone--another hiker is here who's been on the Bartram Trail and is taking the AT back to his car on Wayah Bald--but the Fantastic 4 pushed on the 9 miles to Brown Fork and Cheerios is tenting somewhere along the way, so comparatively speaking, this is a desert island, and I feel like collapsing into the solitude.
I did a return trip to the NOC this morning, which explains the lateness of the hour. The prospect of putting my pack on again was just too much. For the past few days, from at least before Franklin, my left rhomboids--muscles that attach the shoulder blade to the spine--went into spasm the moment I put the thing on and stayed in serious pain until I took it off. It's certainly been contributing to my crankiness and discouragement. Well. The staff at the NOC came through again, giving me almost opposite advice from what I got at Walasi-Yi, but this seems to have done it. There was actually space behind my shoulders. Hooray!
Well, there's dinner to eat in a couple of hours, but I may try to nap in the meantime. --MC
Hike: Nantahala Outdoor Center
5/3/98--campsite near NOC - 134.? miles
If yesterday was a cranky day I don't know what today was, but I'm glad to finish it in the privacy of my tent, and not in a shelter. The rest are tenting nearby, so it's still group life and there are still great advantages to group life--I spent the afternoon looking forward to comparing notes on how good the Trail smelled, coming down from Wesser Bald, and N. rewarded me with her observation of how much keener our senses of smell are getting (as for our scent--well, we all showered in Franklin, we didn't think we were due for one yet today.) But I feel more surrounded by the group life than of it.
I made an effort today to hike more independently--I cooked lunch, instead of snacking as the Fantastic Four have been doing recently, and I stuck with my slower pace even thought both my feet and Diva Dog's were up to a faster day, in part to let the crowd stay ahead of me, in part to really enjoy our descent. It wasn't bad at all, really. Sure, patches were steep and rocky, but most of it was beautiful, wild-flower-covered switchbacks. The morning had been stormy (my first t'storm while actually hiking) then cloudy, so the sunny-ness of the descent was also a treat. I got to hike myself dry.
The Nantahala Outdoor Center (NOC) was fantastic--the best food I've had since Philly, for one, and then the staff at the outfitter were super-friendly and supportive of thru-hikers. Two gear weight compromises: after the storm this morning in my lightweight running jacket I decided it was time to shell out for Goretex. It's just too damn cold to be so wet so high up. I'd been wondering for awhile how it would do in heavy, sustained rain and the answer is I don't want to find out. (The pants are doing fine--my legs generate so much heat it hardly matters.) The other weight compromise was on a thermarest. My foam is fine when I'm tenting, but not on a wooden sleeping platform. --MC
If yesterday was a cranky day I don't know what today was, but I'm glad to finish it in the privacy of my tent, and not in a shelter. The rest are tenting nearby, so it's still group life and there are still great advantages to group life--I spent the afternoon looking forward to comparing notes on how good the Trail smelled, coming down from Wesser Bald, and N. rewarded me with her observation of how much keener our senses of smell are getting (as for our scent--well, we all showered in Franklin, we didn't think we were due for one yet today.) But I feel more surrounded by the group life than of it.
I made an effort today to hike more independently--I cooked lunch, instead of snacking as the Fantastic Four have been doing recently, and I stuck with my slower pace even thought both my feet and Diva Dog's were up to a faster day, in part to let the crowd stay ahead of me, in part to really enjoy our descent. It wasn't bad at all, really. Sure, patches were steep and rocky, but most of it was beautiful, wild-flower-covered switchbacks. The morning had been stormy (my first t'storm while actually hiking) then cloudy, so the sunny-ness of the descent was also a treat. I got to hike myself dry.
The Nantahala Outdoor Center (NOC) was fantastic--the best food I've had since Philly, for one, and then the staff at the outfitter were super-friendly and supportive of thru-hikers. Two gear weight compromises: after the storm this morning in my lightweight running jacket I decided it was time to shell out for Goretex. It's just too damn cold to be so wet so high up. I'd been wondering for awhile how it would do in heavy, sustained rain and the answer is I don't want to find out. (The pants are doing fine--my legs generate so much heat it hardly matters.) The other weight compromise was on a thermarest. My foam is fine when I'm tenting, but not on a wooden sleeping platform. --MC
Hike: Cold Spring Shelter
5/2/98--Cold Spring Shelter, 122.6
Cranky day. Started out depressed because of the gloomy weather and worried because of my misbehaving innards. I've consulted with D. (Howlin' Jed) who's had giardia, and that's not what this was. Probably just greasy town food catching up with me, but still not pleasant.
I dunno about the weather. It was cloudy, which up here can mean we're in the clouds (as it did today)--sounds romantic, but it's really just dreary. You spend all day in a haze, literally, low visibility even if your glasses don't fog. It cleared up in the afternoon, but my mood was pretty well set at that point. Worrying about making miles and my schedule, wondering if getting done on time means barreling through, and if that's the kind of hike I want to--or am willing to--hike. The compromise I came up with while walking was to skip Pennsylvania if it looks like I won't make it, and come back to do it in October. I just spent an hour or two with the data book and it may not come to that, or it may only come to skipping part of it, but it makes me feel better to have a plan B lined up.
Lots of crankiness going around, though. I think only N. and Cheerios avoided it. J. and D. had some friction over cooking dinner and A. reported feeling annoyed. I can only guess at what the family dynamic must be for them on the inside--even sharing shelters with them for this long, I have a basic emotional distance from it that they don't have, and even so I'm feeling ready to hike on my own (although I know I will miss them.) But I didn't come all the way out here to attach myself to a group, however like-minded and groovy. I'll be doing the Smokies without even Diva Dog--independence, here I come.
Met some flip-flopping southbounders today--southbound footsteps are so rare this time of year that I doubt I see even one a day. --MC
Cranky day. Started out depressed because of the gloomy weather and worried because of my misbehaving innards. I've consulted with D. (Howlin' Jed) who's had giardia, and that's not what this was. Probably just greasy town food catching up with me, but still not pleasant.
I dunno about the weather. It was cloudy, which up here can mean we're in the clouds (as it did today)--sounds romantic, but it's really just dreary. You spend all day in a haze, literally, low visibility even if your glasses don't fog. It cleared up in the afternoon, but my mood was pretty well set at that point. Worrying about making miles and my schedule, wondering if getting done on time means barreling through, and if that's the kind of hike I want to--or am willing to--hike. The compromise I came up with while walking was to skip Pennsylvania if it looks like I won't make it, and come back to do it in October. I just spent an hour or two with the data book and it may not come to that, or it may only come to skipping part of it, but it makes me feel better to have a plan B lined up.
Lots of crankiness going around, though. I think only N. and Cheerios avoided it. J. and D. had some friction over cooking dinner and A. reported feeling annoyed. I can only guess at what the family dynamic must be for them on the inside--even sharing shelters with them for this long, I have a basic emotional distance from it that they don't have, and even so I'm feeling ready to hike on my own (although I know I will miss them.) But I didn't come all the way out here to attach myself to a group, however like-minded and groovy. I'll be doing the Smokies without even Diva Dog--independence, here I come.
Met some flip-flopping southbounders today--southbound footsteps are so rare this time of year that I doubt I see even one a day. --MC
Hike: Siler Bald Shelter
5/1/98--Siler Bald Shelter, 110.5 miles
Woke up to pain-free feet and couldn't quite believe it, but here I am at the end of the day and they're still okay. I've got the right one kind of propped, but at no point today was it ever affecting my stride. Fingers still crossed....
The morning was spent on final town chores--a small resupply at Ingles while the Fantastic 4 hit the post office. We met the Rock Gap Trail Angel--he'd left us oranges in the spring--and he gave Cheerios a lift back to the Trail while we opted for lunch in town. We caught a ride without even lifting a thumb--a local hiker, Skunk Cabbage, saw us getting ready to hitch and called across the street to offer us one. How could we refuse? So we piled into the back of the truck and had a glorious, sunny ride back to Winding Stair Gap.
The sky has been playing whimsical games with us all day--clear and blue with cumulus clouds that give way to intervals of overcast showers, then quickly turn sunny again.
I realize that I haven't said much about the chafing of camp life--living so closely and so temporarily with strangers. I've had the semi-permanence of traveling with the Fantastic Four to insulate me from it to some extent, and then, writing for a public venue, I don't want to offend any hikers who might read these thoughts but it's not always clear how to avoid or resolve conflicts when they come up. I was bothered by someone's language tonight and it made me realize I've been more likely to retreat from uncomfortable situations than to confront them and I don't know that I handled it as well as I would have liked. --M.C.
Woke up to pain-free feet and couldn't quite believe it, but here I am at the end of the day and they're still okay. I've got the right one kind of propped, but at no point today was it ever affecting my stride. Fingers still crossed....
The morning was spent on final town chores--a small resupply at Ingles while the Fantastic 4 hit the post office. We met the Rock Gap Trail Angel--he'd left us oranges in the spring--and he gave Cheerios a lift back to the Trail while we opted for lunch in town. We caught a ride without even lifting a thumb--a local hiker, Skunk Cabbage, saw us getting ready to hitch and called across the street to offer us one. How could we refuse? So we piled into the back of the truck and had a glorious, sunny ride back to Winding Stair Gap.
The sky has been playing whimsical games with us all day--clear and blue with cumulus clouds that give way to intervals of overcast showers, then quickly turn sunny again.
I realize that I haven't said much about the chafing of camp life--living so closely and so temporarily with strangers. I've had the semi-permanence of traveling with the Fantastic Four to insulate me from it to some extent, and then, writing for a public venue, I don't want to offend any hikers who might read these thoughts but it's not always clear how to avoid or resolve conflicts when they come up. I was bothered by someone's language tonight and it made me realize I've been more likely to retreat from uncomfortable situations than to confront them and I don't know that I handled it as well as I would have liked. --M.C.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Hike: Days Inn, Franklin, NC
4/30/98--Days Inn, Franklin, NC 106.8 miles
Rain settled in last night as I was going to bed and it stayed settled until this afternoon. The hike in to town was quick and wet but ended in a golden hitchhike--J. thumbed a ride from a van that took 8 of us--6 humans, 2 dogs, and everyone's packs and hiking poles--and, moreover, waited for the last of us to come down into Winding Stair Gap, so when D., A., and I got into the pullout there was a van with an open door waiting for us.
So we are in town, but it hasn't been the day off I needed. The hotels in the central part of town don't take dogs, so J., his dog, Diva Dog, and I wound up a mile or more away and the walking has been rough on my right foot even without my pack on (we left our packs with the others in the center of town). I'm pretty sure it's some kind of tear in the connective tissue--the pain is in the arch, and it hurts most when I've been off of it awhile and has a chance to stiffen. It's making me worried and discouraged, since all I can do, really, is keep going and keep my fingers crossed. I'm already behind schedule, I can't rest it before Fontana Dam. And the weather report calls for thunderstorms through the weekend.
On the other hand, it's wonderful to be clean and I enjoyed hanging out with J. and N. today--to get out of the full throttle group dynamics for a bit.
It was also great to talk to people from home--my parents, S. it's easy to feel disconnected out here, not just distant but almost disembodied, suspended between Springer and Katahdin for the duration.
Okay, it's late and we have a ways to go early in the morning before we can get back on the Trail. --M.C.
Rain settled in last night as I was going to bed and it stayed settled until this afternoon. The hike in to town was quick and wet but ended in a golden hitchhike--J. thumbed a ride from a van that took 8 of us--6 humans, 2 dogs, and everyone's packs and hiking poles--and, moreover, waited for the last of us to come down into Winding Stair Gap, so when D., A., and I got into the pullout there was a van with an open door waiting for us.
So we are in town, but it hasn't been the day off I needed. The hotels in the central part of town don't take dogs, so J., his dog, Diva Dog, and I wound up a mile or more away and the walking has been rough on my right foot even without my pack on (we left our packs with the others in the center of town). I'm pretty sure it's some kind of tear in the connective tissue--the pain is in the arch, and it hurts most when I've been off of it awhile and has a chance to stiffen. It's making me worried and discouraged, since all I can do, really, is keep going and keep my fingers crossed. I'm already behind schedule, I can't rest it before Fontana Dam. And the weather report calls for thunderstorms through the weekend.
On the other hand, it's wonderful to be clean and I enjoyed hanging out with J. and N. today--to get out of the full throttle group dynamics for a bit.
It was also great to talk to people from home--my parents, S. it's easy to feel disconnected out here, not just distant but almost disembodied, suspended between Springer and Katahdin for the duration.
Okay, it's late and we have a ways to go early in the morning before we can get back on the Trail. --M.C.
Hike: Rock Gap Shelter
4/29/98, Rock Gap Shelter, 103.6 miles
Except for Albert Mountain it was another easy day in North Carolina. Albert was nearly vertical, but it didn't go on too long and Diva Dog did fantastically. We had cheese and pita on the summit and stopped for water at Big Spring. It was mostly a day of zoning off into my own thoughts and the miles flew. My pack seems back down at a manageable weight yet I still have more food than I started the hike with, so that's good. Some continuing worries about the bottoms of my feet, so I'm glad to have the day off for yet another reason. Shower, phone, groceries, and a good soak for my feet and Diva Dog's paws. There has to be something more to say--but maybe that's what there is to report, that all of those hours of walking are starting to take me out of all these words I usually live in.
Except for Albert Mountain it was another easy day in North Carolina. Albert was nearly vertical, but it didn't go on too long and Diva Dog did fantastically. We had cheese and pita on the summit and stopped for water at Big Spring. It was mostly a day of zoning off into my own thoughts and the miles flew. My pack seems back down at a manageable weight yet I still have more food than I started the hike with, so that's good. Some continuing worries about the bottoms of my feet, so I'm glad to have the day off for yet another reason. Shower, phone, groceries, and a good soak for my feet and Diva Dog's paws. There has to be something more to say--but maybe that's what there is to report, that all of those hours of walking are starting to take me out of all these words I usually live in.
Hike: Carter Gap Shelter
4/28/98--Carter Gap Shelter, 90.9 miles from Springer
J. told me I'm supposed to be starting my entries with where I am and the mile marker, so I'm going to try to be consistent.
We're sitting here talking about genitals and making Cheerios uncomfortable, but at least he's entertained. It's another beautiful new shelter like Muskrat Creek--the roof covers the dining area, which has a gravel floor, as well as the sleeping platform. Traveling in a group of 5, we fill most of the shelters we reach. We kind of take them over. The Fantastic 4 generate enough family chaos that our sheltermates barely notice Diva Dog and J.'s dog chasing each other around, and I'm alternately audience, participant, and translator, and general-purpose witness to the proceedings. My current plan is to travel with them to Fontana Dam, which I'm now planning to reach on the 7th. It puts me a good chunk of days behind schedule but I don't think I'll have trouble making them up later and this way I know I'll be in Nashville for my brother on the 8th, not stuck thumbing a ride from Clingman's Dome.
The Trail today was kind to us--12.5 miles in the same amount of time it took us to do 10.5 yesterday. Most of the day was spent crossing Standing Indian Mountain, our first peak over 5,000--and it was damn near 5,500, but the ascent and descent were so gradual it hardly seemed it. There was some FF chaos when J. went to the summit, thinking he was still on the Trail. J., being 6'7", is usually way out front with his dog and so he's the one who calls the breaks. By the time I started descending, I thought he, A., and D. were in front of me, since they had passed me in that order, but A. emerged on the Trail behind me, having had some business to take care of in the bushes, and passed me quickly. I went cheerily on, expecting to find the group gathering for a gorp break around Birch Gap. Instead, J's dog joined me and Diva Dog--from behind us. At first I thought she must have been hiking with A. and had gotten lost or gone exploring, but sure enough, J. came loping down to the gap with a report of the view from the summit and a story about waiting there for a half-hour for the rest of us to show before reading in Wingfoot's guide that he'd gone off the Trail. The end result was that we didn't get a gorp break and D. showed up at the shelter expecting to see J. and A. there but finding no one instead--and the old shelter across the Trail is a pretty scary place. He found Cheerios over here at this shelter which is so new it still smells of pine, and as everyone came in the story unfolded--several times over, for Cheerios's entertainment.
Man, oh man, I miss the Georgia ATC and I take back any griping I did. Those folkds know what they're doing--the erosion control in North Carolina has just been no comparison.
Some beautiful ravines in the last couple of miles today, full of rhododendron and hemlock--the first hemlock we've seen since pretty much the first day.
J. told me I'm supposed to be starting my entries with where I am and the mile marker, so I'm going to try to be consistent.
We're sitting here talking about genitals and making Cheerios uncomfortable, but at least he's entertained. It's another beautiful new shelter like Muskrat Creek--the roof covers the dining area, which has a gravel floor, as well as the sleeping platform. Traveling in a group of 5, we fill most of the shelters we reach. We kind of take them over. The Fantastic 4 generate enough family chaos that our sheltermates barely notice Diva Dog and J.'s dog chasing each other around, and I'm alternately audience, participant, and translator, and general-purpose witness to the proceedings. My current plan is to travel with them to Fontana Dam, which I'm now planning to reach on the 7th. It puts me a good chunk of days behind schedule but I don't think I'll have trouble making them up later and this way I know I'll be in Nashville for my brother on the 8th, not stuck thumbing a ride from Clingman's Dome.
The Trail today was kind to us--12.5 miles in the same amount of time it took us to do 10.5 yesterday. Most of the day was spent crossing Standing Indian Mountain, our first peak over 5,000--and it was damn near 5,500, but the ascent and descent were so gradual it hardly seemed it. There was some FF chaos when J. went to the summit, thinking he was still on the Trail. J., being 6'7", is usually way out front with his dog and so he's the one who calls the breaks. By the time I started descending, I thought he, A., and D. were in front of me, since they had passed me in that order, but A. emerged on the Trail behind me, having had some business to take care of in the bushes, and passed me quickly. I went cheerily on, expecting to find the group gathering for a gorp break around Birch Gap. Instead, J's dog joined me and Diva Dog--from behind us. At first I thought she must have been hiking with A. and had gotten lost or gone exploring, but sure enough, J. came loping down to the gap with a report of the view from the summit and a story about waiting there for a half-hour for the rest of us to show before reading in Wingfoot's guide that he'd gone off the Trail. The end result was that we didn't get a gorp break and D. showed up at the shelter expecting to see J. and A. there but finding no one instead--and the old shelter across the Trail is a pretty scary place. He found Cheerios over here at this shelter which is so new it still smells of pine, and as everyone came in the story unfolded--several times over, for Cheerios's entertainment.
Man, oh man, I miss the Georgia ATC and I take back any griping I did. Those folkds know what they're doing--the erosion control in North Carolina has just been no comparison.
Some beautiful ravines in the last couple of miles today, full of rhododendron and hemlock--the first hemlock we've seen since pretty much the first day.
Hike: Muskrat Creek Shelter
4/27--Muskrat Creek Shelter, North Carolina
10.5 miles and my first state line--but crossing it was kind of a low point since it started raining just before I got there so I opted for a bar instead of cooking lunch, and pushed on. The gnarled oak was cool and all, but the climb that started just beyond was nasty and my glasses fogged to the point I took them off and got reacquainted with my natural vision for a mile or two. Not fun. The Fantastic Four are going in to Franklin Thurs. afternoon and I'm thinking of going in with them. I've been wrapping my left knee, and my right ankle, the one I hurt last summer, is just starting to hint at acting up--not actually hurting but it's making me nervous enough to think I need a day off, and not just Diva Dog. Nothing much hurts when my pack is off--my feet, basically--but the little things add up while I'm on the move. It would mean revising my whole plan for the Smokies and going to my brother's graduation before I start the park instead of getting off for it in Gatlinburg but i may not have a choice--the closest I can cut it is getting to Clingman's Dome on the 7th, which means starting the park on the 5th at the latest, and that could be a long hitch to get to the rental car place in Gatlinburg. If I make it to Carter Gap tomorrow I ca put off the decision one more day.
I realize the past couple of days have mostly been worries about logistics. I think the first enthusiasm is wearing off and I'm settling in to the reality of miles and days. Some interesting sights the past couple of days--the first chipmunk, colonies of grasshoppers that plop back down as you pass through them, sounding like rain. And more poison ivy that I care to think about.
10.5 miles and my first state line--but crossing it was kind of a low point since it started raining just before I got there so I opted for a bar instead of cooking lunch, and pushed on. The gnarled oak was cool and all, but the climb that started just beyond was nasty and my glasses fogged to the point I took them off and got reacquainted with my natural vision for a mile or two. Not fun. The Fantastic Four are going in to Franklin Thurs. afternoon and I'm thinking of going in with them. I've been wrapping my left knee, and my right ankle, the one I hurt last summer, is just starting to hint at acting up--not actually hurting but it's making me nervous enough to think I need a day off, and not just Diva Dog. Nothing much hurts when my pack is off--my feet, basically--but the little things add up while I'm on the move. It would mean revising my whole plan for the Smokies and going to my brother's graduation before I start the park instead of getting off for it in Gatlinburg but i may not have a choice--the closest I can cut it is getting to Clingman's Dome on the 7th, which means starting the park on the 5th at the latest, and that could be a long hitch to get to the rental car place in Gatlinburg. If I make it to Carter Gap tomorrow I ca put off the decision one more day.
I realize the past couple of days have mostly been worries about logistics. I think the first enthusiasm is wearing off and I'm settling in to the reality of miles and days. Some interesting sights the past couple of days--the first chipmunk, colonies of grasshoppers that plop back down as you pass through them, sounding like rain. And more poison ivy that I care to think about.
Hike: past Dicks Creek Gap
4/26 Another sunny day--we're camped about a mile past Dicks Creek Gap. We did 11.7 today, and the last mile probably
--I was interrupted by the arrival of the Fantastic Four, who I thought would be 3 1/2 miles ahead of me at Plumorchard Shelter but who, instead, just got back on the Trail after going in for an unexpected resupply in Hiawassee. I'd run into them unexpectedly at lunch and told them I'd be camping here--good thing! They did the mile up from the road pretty much by headlamp, it was almost 9 when they got here, and the sun was pretty much down by 8:30. I'm outside the tent now as they arrange groundcloths to avoid rocks--at this point they're just sleeping out, which I had contemplated but being alone and so close to the Trail, the tent seemed like a safer option.
What was I saying before the gang showed up? Oh, right. The last mile was really the last straw for Diva Dog. Her paws still aren't looking nearly so bad as they did before Helen -- the Trail wasn't particularly rocky and we took a lot of breaks -- but she just crashed when we got here, and last night she had energy to explore. She was still sniffing around back at Dicks Creek Gap, so I think the last mile did her in. If we really do stick to 10 milers all the way to Fontana Dam--if she doesn't adjust before then--I don't know if we'll make it there before my brother graduates on May 8. So that's the current worry, but with the Fantastic Four back in sync with me for a few days, at least the company will be good.
There was a beautiful grove of rhododendron coming down into Dicks Creek Gap--it held promise of what the woods will look like in a few weeks when the leaves are out on the trees.
--I was interrupted by the arrival of the Fantastic Four, who I thought would be 3 1/2 miles ahead of me at Plumorchard Shelter but who, instead, just got back on the Trail after going in for an unexpected resupply in Hiawassee. I'd run into them unexpectedly at lunch and told them I'd be camping here--good thing! They did the mile up from the road pretty much by headlamp, it was almost 9 when they got here, and the sun was pretty much down by 8:30. I'm outside the tent now as they arrange groundcloths to avoid rocks--at this point they're just sleeping out, which I had contemplated but being alone and so close to the Trail, the tent seemed like a safer option.
What was I saying before the gang showed up? Oh, right. The last mile was really the last straw for Diva Dog. Her paws still aren't looking nearly so bad as they did before Helen -- the Trail wasn't particularly rocky and we took a lot of breaks -- but she just crashed when we got here, and last night she had energy to explore. She was still sniffing around back at Dicks Creek Gap, so I think the last mile did her in. If we really do stick to 10 milers all the way to Fontana Dam--if she doesn't adjust before then--I don't know if we'll make it there before my brother graduates on May 8. So that's the current worry, but with the Fantastic Four back in sync with me for a few days, at least the company will be good.
There was a beautiful grove of rhododendron coming down into Dicks Creek Gap--it held promise of what the woods will look like in a few weeks when the leaves are out on the trees.
Hike: Tray Mountain Shelter
4/25/98--Tray Mountain Shelter
Glad, glad, glad to be back in the woods, but not in the least bit happy about my packweight after collecting my drop. Today, I was carrying 10 days of my food and 2 days of Diva Dog's--up til now I've never had more than 5 days and the difference is huge. It was also sunny and warm for the first time and that also made the hiking harder--drinking more water, carrying more water, stopping more often, moving more slowly when I was moving, and (my first Saturday on the Trail) having to make way for day hikers all the time. There was a huge crowd of people wearing cotton, carrying no food or water, and every single one of them had to comment on Diva Dog's booties. I can tell already I'm going to hate weekends. On the other hand, there's a big, friendly crowd of overnighters tenting around the shelter who seem to really know what they're about, and there's something kind of cool about getting to be the "permanent" residents and tell stories for the tourists.
We got a ride back to Unicoi in the back of a bright red pickup truck from a super-friendly couple--Diva Dog really got into it, kept standing up and poking her head over the edge, then sitting back down as we took the curves. We reached the parking lot just as the Fantastic Four were coming in, so it really felt like coming home. They'll pull ahead of me next--I'm going to stick to 10-ish mile days to try to keep Diva Dog's paws from hurting too badly, but the Four have a drop to pick up in Franklin on Wednesday, so I guess we'll be able to leapfrog for a little while.
And I have to figure out how to work my drops so I'm not carrying this much food again. I'd much rather stop more often and hike more easily in between.
Glad, glad, glad to be back in the woods, but not in the least bit happy about my packweight after collecting my drop. Today, I was carrying 10 days of my food and 2 days of Diva Dog's--up til now I've never had more than 5 days and the difference is huge. It was also sunny and warm for the first time and that also made the hiking harder--drinking more water, carrying more water, stopping more often, moving more slowly when I was moving, and (my first Saturday on the Trail) having to make way for day hikers all the time. There was a huge crowd of people wearing cotton, carrying no food or water, and every single one of them had to comment on Diva Dog's booties. I can tell already I'm going to hate weekends. On the other hand, there's a big, friendly crowd of overnighters tenting around the shelter who seem to really know what they're about, and there's something kind of cool about getting to be the "permanent" residents and tell stories for the tourists.
We got a ride back to Unicoi in the back of a bright red pickup truck from a super-friendly couple--Diva Dog really got into it, kept standing up and poking her head over the edge, then sitting back down as we took the curves. We reached the parking lot just as the Fantastic Four were coming in, so it really felt like coming home. They'll pull ahead of me next--I'm going to stick to 10-ish mile days to try to keep Diva Dog's paws from hurting too badly, but the Four have a drop to pick up in Franklin on Wednesday, so I guess we'll be able to leapfrog for a little while.
And I have to figure out how to work my drops so I'm not carrying this much food again. I'd much rather stop more often and hike more easily in between.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Hike: Helen, GA
4/24/98--My dad's birthday, for the even smaller number of you who keep track. We're in Helen, which is a trippy little town. Editor's note: Helen is zoned so that all buildings resemble someone's notion of Bavarian architecture. Imagine Heidi in north Georgia and you will have the idea. Diva Dog's front paw pads are both swollen and the left one is cut. Wearing booties, she scrambled down to Unicoi Gap just fine, but has been limping in her few bare-pawed walks around town. The Helendorf Inn staff have been super-helpful and suggested Epsom salts, which I'm going to try this evening. Mostly, Diva Dog's just stayed at the hotel while I did town chores--laundry, pharmacy, shuttle in to Hiawassee to pick up my drop. I'm going to call her vet in the morning if I can (can't recall their Saturday hours) but the current plan is to be back on the Trail tomorrow, doing 10-mile days to Fontana Dam and giving her plenty of breaks in the day. Fingers crossed we don't lose any booties. Right now they seem like the most important gear in either of our packs.
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