March 26 Mollies Ridge Shelter 177.3 miles
Left Fontana Dam late, around 11AM, and decided to forget the PO and have them forward my mattress to my home.
Set out with Jersey Gerbil and we had a nice walk across Fontana Dam under a hazy blue sky. We walked three miles on paved road before hitting the trail which happens to be the the southern boundary of the Great Smoky Mountains Park. A hiker has to have a permit to walk in the Smokies so the park rangers can track you.
It was a long two thousand foot ascent but relatively easy trail (low rocks and roots). I got way ahead of Gerbil and after seven miles was at Birch Spring Gap where we were supposed to tent. But it was 3:30 and I figured I still had the juice in me to get to Mollies Ridge.
So I went on the other four miles. But then it turned rough with lots of ups and downs and I was tired when I got into camp.
In camp Conneticut Cowboy and the English Boys and others from the Deep Gap gang were building a nice fire inside the shelter. I was ok with the boys.
At Fontana Dam, over dinner, I told Cowboy that he had a big head and he got hurt and said he "didn't have a big head. Take it back." I was surprised at that because I don't think of that as such a bad thing, and said "ok you don't have a big head Connecticut."
When we left he bought a round of whiskey shots. "You are a good man Connecticut." He looked at me and said, "And I don't have a big head do I?"
"No you don't man, you got a small to normal one."
I had forgotten how it was to be twenty-five, in good shape, energetic, and feeling like the world is all your oyster. I may not have had his family's money but I was pretty happy with myself too. But then, again, I remember I could be very unhappy with myself. Miserable. Ah youth!
March 27 Derrick Knob Shelter 189.3 Miles
I felt a little guilty about about leaving Gerbil behind and I texted her a few times but I knew she wouldn't get the message until a day or two later with the lack of reception out here. But why should I feel guilty? I'm not her daddy or her uncle. And she mentioned that some people could think I was because I was hiking with her. That bothers me. I'm not Daddy or Uncle. Just another hiker on the trail. What am I hiking with girls anyway? Jeeze.
I'd rather hear the shit and fart jokes of the boys and the straight talk about pissing and having a good dump. As the English boy Teabag says about them, " The Fellowship of the Poopah."
I also like their intense drive on the trail. Those boys walk fast. I'm always a couple miles behind them coming into camp but they keep me on a goal.
But boy am I tired when I get into camp. Eat and in bed by 7 and wake up a 7.
I'm liking my Radiant sleeping bag: very toasty, sometimes hot. I use my clothes bag for a pillow. I hang my sweaty shorts and shirt from my backpack and hope they are dry enough to put on in the morning. I try to keep a shirt and pajama bottom for sleeping. But the bottom is hot. I'm gonna buy a third pair of shorts. Two for hiking and one for sleeping.
I also gotta buy more food. I'm only getting 1500 calories a day to save weight in my pack. Bad idea. Probably why I'm weak at the end of the day. Gonna stock up in Gatlinburg when I resupply.
March 28 Mt. Collins Shelter 202.8 Miles
Passed Bionic Man on the trail about 9AM, a guy my age 61, and he said my singing made him smile. I told him that if I sing I can set my own rhythm and not the recorded songs rhythm. Always liked singing, it gets my endorphins going.
He said he is too busy watching his step to sing too. Said he was walking eight miles and stopping at the shelter before Clingman's Dome.
Clingman's Dome. The highest mountain on the AT at 6667 feet.
I told him I might too. But I knew that I wanted to hit the top today. The weather was clear and it was supposed to rain tomorrow.
So I stopped at Double Spring Gap Shelter and the gang was sunbathing; it was warm for March, I threw my nasty shirt over a branch, and took a twenty minute nap while the boys ate and chatted.
They were gone by the time I woke up and I set off in short order. I know I have been up tougher climbs but this one was a hard 1500 ascent. But I reached the top and there was a wild circular path to the tower view. I could see Gatlinburg off in the distance and Georgia Mountains way off in the blue mist.
Also I had hit 200 miles on the AT! Yeah!
I met a guy named Plant who had started ten days before and was walking 25 mile days. He had a super lightweightpack, a one pound sleeping bag and a one pound tarp set up. Amazing speed.
My feet and ankles were hurting by the time I rolled into camp around 7PM. It was the accumulation of long hikes over the past week and a half.
I was hoping to go straight toward Hotsprings, NC and skip gaudy Gatlinberg and it''s gross commercialism but I didn't have food for six days on the trail. I also realized I was tired.
I slept in the shelter next to Eighty-Two, a former Air Force member of the Eighty-Second division. His paycheck hadn't come in yet so he had to hang at the shelter tomorrow and pick it up in Gatlinburg the next day. It costs a lot to be on the trail.
It also costs a lot physically. A helicopter came down at Siler's Bald Shelter about 4AM this morning according to False Summit, and took Atta Boy, another 61 year old guy like me off the mountain. Summit said Atta Boy had pains on the lower sides of his back. Sounds like kidney problem to me. At Fontana Dam, I dined with Brisbane, an Aussie who had to go into Gatlinburg because he slipped on a rock and hurt his hip. He was hobbling.
Then I've hear tales of twisted ankles and bad knees taking people out. And it's only been a few weeks into it.
Whatever your weak spot is The Trail will Teach You where it is. Ya gotta have a survivor's sense of humor to be out here where living in mud, cold, and a bloody blister is a normal thing. No Pain No Rain No Maine.
March 30 Motel 6 Gatlinburg, Tn. 207.1 Miles
Damn there are alot of tourists here on a Wednesday. Coming down the mountain with an Indian Uber driver, I saw a hundreds of people at the visitor center and walking around the designated day hiker trails.
And when he dropped me off at the cheapest place, the Motel 6, there plenty of people up and down the streets buying fudge, beer, trinkets, and souveniers.
I met the Gang at Cici's all you can eat pizza. I had about two medium pizzas and a large salad and three Dr. Peppers and some sweet rolls. The boy's were on their fourth one. A big burly construction worker remarked that he thought he could eat a bunch, but these skinny boys put him to shame.
I did my laundry at the local Day's Inn, since the Motel didn't have one, and went down to Walgreen's to resupply on cheese and bread and power bars and pop tarts and honey buns and trail mix. High calorie stuff and so healthy for you! This is coming from Mr Health freak before the trail where I abhored how sugar was killing the USA. But you gotta do what you've gotta do. Carrots and spinach and fruit ain't gonna fill you up on the trail. I had ditched my cooking gear and cold mashed potatoes didn't make it for me.
Most of the gang went back on the trail today, taking a Nero day, a Near to zero hiking day.
I took a Zero day because I was tired and needed sleep and a shower.
I have realized I can't keep up with them. Most of my peers are doing eight mile days and I'm doing 13 to 16 mile days. Well, it's caught up with me. And I have a long way to go so it's time for a reset.
Anyway, it's not a race. And I do love walking. But I also enjoy feeling the landscape, taking pictures, and getting lost in my thoughts. Thoughts like what am I going to eat when I get to camp? And how many football fields in a mile? How many football fields is thirteen miles? How does a Macy's escalator compare to the steepness of this hill? All this high end thought slows me down, besides the sheer physicality of it all. And, you know, I'm ok with that.
The Motel 6 gave me a room with a king size bed and a huge Juccuzi. Nice. Only the Juccuzi didn't work. And you know, I'm ok with that too.
Before going to sleep, I got a text from Tough Nut. She was traveling with an Army officer who worked with wounded Vets but now she is off the trail; left somewhere between Fontana Dam and Gatlinburg and going to Jamacia or the Bahamas. She says she lost weight on the trail and looks better in a bathing suit.
Women. Even tough Marine women are thinking about how they look in a suit. She wants to hook up with me in New York. Cool. That would be awesome. She's something else.
Friday, March 31, 2017
Monday, March 27, 2017
Byron "Sky" Van Buren at Fontana Dam, NC 164.7 MILES
March 16 Deep Gap Shelter 66 Miles
Honey Bee and I finally left Hiawassee at 7:45 AM and shuttled back up to Unicoi Gap. It was 32 degrees and the snow had melted into a pretty Palmetto designed trail of brown and white. Crystalized hoarfrost lined the trail and we filled our bottles from an icy stream. Hiking up one thousand feet over Rocky Mtn., we descended down into Indian Grave gap. We ate some candy bars and then went back up 1500 feet over Tray Mtn. It was beautiful clear skies and nice frozen trail and I felt so happy being on the trail again. I got a good pace going and even the uphills felt good on my calves.
I snapped pictures along the way, artsy pictures Bee calls them. I felt exhilarated after the trail turned afternoon muddy.
I was pooped by the time I hit Deep Gap Shelter. It was my longest hike at 13.1 miles and my knees were aching even after telling myself for miles to go long and slow, it's not a race. I was in the shelter and settling in my bag at 7PM but got up for the camaraderie around the fire.
Young guys were putting a roaring fire together. A couple of English lads were inquiring as to what grits was and Cowboy Connecticut was laying a tree trunk on the fire and going on how Georgia and Hiawassee was full of backward hillbillies.
That got my attention. What's a guy from Connecticut doing wearing a cowboy hat? Who does he think he is?
I wish I had something about the difference between Southern friendliness and Yankee arrogance. How people have no choice where they are born and raised.
And I did come up with a good tale of what I should have said the next day, hiking up a hard ass hill.
But I didn't say anything wise and thoughtful. I just said, I'm from Georgia.
And he said sorry man, I didn't mean to offend you Sky.
It's alright man, I said.
We ex-English teachers come up with the good lines always after the event. At least this one does.
March 17 Muskrat Creek Shelter, Ga. 81.4 Miles
It was pouring down rain when I woke up at daybreak, usually around 7:30. By 10:30 there were only five or six of us left in the shelter, and by11 Honey Bee and I stepped out into the 40 degree drizzle with my umbrella, long pants and poncho.
Thirty minutes later, I was wearing my shorts (and my underwear) and a thin cotton shirt. I'm a warm blooded person. Cold types are all bundled up with hats, gloves, puffy jackets and such, which would leave me sauna sweating in minutes. I'm glad for it. Less stuff to carry.
The day broke open into a day of glorious climbs and descents, bright burgundy mountain views and blue skies. By four o'clock I could look back at the ridge I came from the day before and feel satisfied that my hard work was not for naught.
We crossed the GA/NC border at 78 miles from Springer, took a few snaps and followed three guys and their dog, which turned out not to be their dog but a dog that had been following them for eight hours. After I gave the dog a mini-Snickers, he followed us for a few miles, and then took up with a nice Christian couple.
Good Ol' Happy Pants
You look like yer in pain man, he said.
I am, I said, holding my left fist under the strap going under my left armpit.
I bought this pack and its too small. It's killing my trapezius. Trying to keep it off my left shoulder.
He looked happy. He had a scraggly red beard and blonde hair and a toothbrush strapped to his pack strap. His name, he said, was Happy Pants and he started in Maine in September and was finishing up in March at Springer Mtn. Georgia. He walked over 2100 miles, staying in empty shelters the whole way. Never used a tent until meeting NOBO's in shelters in March who forced him into buying a tent. Happy Pants was the first Southbounder, SOBO, I'd met on the trail.
He lay back against the side of the trail. I said to myself that I would sit down if I talked to anybody he said.
Anything I should know about the trail Happy Pants?
Well, hikers are the nicest people you'll come across. And you won't need that umbrella. That's for the heat on the PCT. You won't care about weather or temperature much after awhile because you have to walk through it anyway. You haven't done much backpacking have you Sky?
Yeah. Obvious, huh? Yeah, I should have been fitted. But I've talked to experts along the way and they told me how to fit this thing. I've tried everything and nothing works.
Happy Pants smiled and said those guys know nothing. Loosen all your straps. Pull your pack as far up your back as you can. Now cinch your waist belt.
The belt is over my belly button.
Right.
Well, everybody's told me it should be on your waist, across your hip.
Yeah, well they are wrong. Now tighten up the strap across your chest. And tighten up the straps under your pits. This lifts the pack off your shoulders.
I did as instructed.
The pack was off my shoulders, the straps inches above the. Oh my God! I was in heaven! Damn! Damn Happy Pants-- you made me one Happy Sky!...Dude!
The Trail will Teach Ya, the old cowboy said spitting a tobaccy stream into the fire.
Again, I ended up leaving Honey Bee behind, she telling me to go ahead, that she was a slug. It felt good to be setting my own pace and singing a song or two alone.
When I got into Muskrat, Old Pirate was watching the dog and going to take it into town. He said it was a local's dog. Lots of locals let their dogs run loose he was told by the local pet service, and then the dogs end up on the trail. I encountered more in days ahead.
Muskrat Shelter was full and the ground aroundthe lean-to muddy. I set up tent by a clump of Rhododendrum ( after the night of the Deluge, I was edgy about setting up my tent where the wind could blow it away). I told Honey Bee where I was and said I'd like to get an early start in the morning.
Before hitting the sack, I met a guy, looked to be in his late forties, who was hiking from Florida to Maine. He said Florida and Southern Georgia was a breeze compared to after Springer.
All night long the wind whipped around the gap from one side to the other. I did my usual twelve hours sleep, tossing and turning on sore hips and back. I think I manage 8 hours sleep doing that. Whatever.
March 18 Carter Gap Shelter, NC 93.9 Miles
I woke her up at 7:45 AM from outside her tent. Baby, it's Daddy wake up baby it's time to go bye bye.
Who is that?
It's Daddy, I said. We got to go down the trail. Wake up sweet pea.
Oh, it's you. Wow. That is so weird.
I laughed. Hey let's go soon huh? While the ground is frozen?
But Honey Bee wasn't ready at 8:30. Or 9:30. She sat at the Shelter picnic table cooking oatmeal.
She said to go ahead and we'll meet up later. She seemed in a dour mood and I was a little irked at her sluggishness. And at her lack of humor.
I wanted to hit the trail while it was still frozen and avoid the mud. She likes to take her time and cook and such. I'm at the point where cooking seems to be more hassle more than joy. Cold dirty hands setting up a little canister of fuel beneath a food caked titanium cup from the night before just to eat some hot soupy oatmeal/potato glop before hitting the trail. Too Fussy. Fussy, fussy.
So I marched off into the cold and mist alone and after a few hours I felt free and happy.
March 20 The Budget Inn, Franklin, NC 109.8
Albert Mountain, fire tower, was a bitch! Practically crawling up the rocks on all fours, fifty yards or so to the summit. I was afraid to stand up so I didn't fall backwards down the mountain. Wow! What a great climb! Killer. And the sweetest part of all was that the top marked a 100 miles from Springer! Yea! I felt that I accomplished something and from the top saw the mountains of Georgia from where I had come. I felt happy going the next nine miles into Winding Stair Gap.
Another accomplishment: my farthest hike yet. 16 miles. Wow.
At 4 PM, I hitched a ride in the back of a small Toyota pickup filled with painters buckets and tools and was dropped off at the Budget Inn across from a gear store. I paid twenty-two bucks to the pajama-clad owner, who was out of rooms, clad in his pajamas and walked across the street to the bunks hostel. A hiker said he had been there four days, was sick and coughing, and that the only bunk left was thin and hard on the back. I didn't want to hear that and told the owner.
Who said that? Who was it?
I didn't want to get into it. I don't know. I need a bed. So he heaved a heavy sigh and gave me the key to the room next door. You are alone there now he said. But don't expect to stay that way.
Ok. Whatever. I wanted a shower and to wash my dirty clothes.
Happily, I had the four bunk room all to myself that night. Fantastic. I had clothes and tent hanging all over the room and turned on the air conditioner to dry them out.
Then I went down to the Frog Market and ate a huge plate of fried flounder and oysters and shrimp and veggies and a slice of buttermilk pie. No mashed potatoes.
Back in the "hostel" room, the heat didn't work. So I jumped in my warm bag on a bunk and fell asleep in the nice cold air.
This morning I skipped the all you can eat pancake breakfast at the Baptist church and went to the local bakery and had a Greek salad and a coffee. I was in the fancier part of town. A banner stretched across the street: FRANKLIN WELCOMES HIKERS!
I went into the new and very popular Outdoor 76. The place was packed. I spent three hours with the young and enthusiastic proprietor, Josh, who gave me Excellent customer service and a scientific breakdown of every point of my metatarsals. Did you know that everything below your knee is part of your foot? Neither did I. He gave me an hour breakdown of how the foot measurer works and then I said great Josh what shoes do you recommend Josh?
After trying on ten pairs of shoes I settled for the first one's I tried, Brooks Cascadia. He took me from a size 12 to a size 14. I was amazed. Really? You don't measure foot from the end of the toes he said, you measure from the end of the arch. And you are a fourteen.
I guess with two inches in front of my toes I won't jam them going downhill.
Then while he was giving a foot seminar to hikers I went downstairs and bought a new backpack. The one I landed on is called a Granite something and it is a simple bag without all the pockets and bells and whistles of the other one. I like simple. And it fit well too.
Wow. I have never had such Excellent service.
Then I checked into another hostel, the Gooder Hostel (the room to myself couldn't last) , walked a few miles to the PO and posted off my old pack and umbrella and a hiking pole--I like using just one--and went to dollar general to resupply with snacks and Tupperware. Probably another dumb idea but oh well: The Trail will Teach Ya Kid.
March 23 Gooder Hostel
Thirty-something Om had converted his house into a Hostel, with about ten bunk beds lined up in the basement and the washer/dryer down there. The main floor had a small kitchen, a refidgerator packed to the gills with food and a dining table and TV room where guys were sitting around watching The Matrix 2.
Om was a laid back guy that has a way of shuttling people to and from the mountain, getting folks laundry and food needs done and making a buck too. Nothing is done on time and if you are going to slackpack in the hills for the day, you need patience. You are on Zen time. Flow time. Not Holliday Inn time.
One of the shuttle drivers taking a few of us out to slackpack, hiking without a pack, quit that day because it was too Zen she said.
Om said she quit because she was in love and had been up for a few days partying. He was upset she left without saying a word to him.
Structure is bogus he said. If you go with the flow it all happens without stress. And you know what? He was right (though I was concerned if anyone was gonna show up after hiking on the ridge all day, the sun setting, the cold settling in, and waiting for someone to shuttle us back to the Hostel.)
I slackpacked a couple days from the hostel so that my back could heal and rest some. I think it helped. But what was interesting was that I didn't go that much faster without a pack as I did with one. But I did like the freedom of it all. They were beautiful days, clear and nice.
March 24 Nantahala Outdoor Center
This is like an outdoor center with rafting, hiking and canoeing and such with cabins and outfitters, etc, in a rustic setting. I set up a tent here down the river, the Hobo Jungle, and the next morning the waiter at the Restaurant said he would slackpack me to Stecoah Gap.
March 25 Brown Fork Gap Shelter
It was a long day but a pretty one. Long, because the thirteen miles up and over the hill was over a three thousand steady climb upward. But I loved it and hiked with Gerbil, a young cute girl from Jersey for a while. I left her halfway in and was to meet her again at Fontana Dam.
Dang it was a long long descent into the Gap. Two hours. It seemed never ending. But by 5 PM I was at the Gap.
Lumberjack and a few guys were at the picnic table drinking beer, soda and chips. They told me the waiter with my pack had come and gone at 3:30.
He finally did show up at six, saying he was passing by and thought to check on me. Nice of him. I guess he was on Zen time too.
I walked another three miles, up Jacob's Ladder, with a mother and her son, Tough Butt, who just put in a long day like myself. Boy could those two climb. She said she had been putting in fifteen days hikes for the last three days. I admire them.
The Ladder was a mile of straight up. Dang tired after that 2.5 mile climb.
That night I heard three Quaker young people singing around the fire in three part harmony. It was beautiful and I fell into a deep sleep in the six person shelter next to a guy who tossed and turned all night. Oh well.
March 26 Fontana Dam Village
Needed to pick up my air mattress from the PO but it was closed on Saturday! Bummer. I have to stay at a nice Lodge with great food and bed and bath for two days. It's funny but it is difficult to sleep in a regular bed after being on the trail and I tossed and turned all night hearing my fellow hikers drunk and partying into the night in the rooms down the hall. Been there done that.
Heading out with Gerbil tomorrow for six days on the trail. Stocking up on pop tarts, honey buns, and trail mix and bagels and cheese. Tired of pouched potatoes and grits. Glop. We'll see: The Trail will Teach Ya the old cowboy said leaning back, pulling his hat over his leather lined face and drifting off to greener pastures.
Honey Bee and I finally left Hiawassee at 7:45 AM and shuttled back up to Unicoi Gap. It was 32 degrees and the snow had melted into a pretty Palmetto designed trail of brown and white. Crystalized hoarfrost lined the trail and we filled our bottles from an icy stream. Hiking up one thousand feet over Rocky Mtn., we descended down into Indian Grave gap. We ate some candy bars and then went back up 1500 feet over Tray Mtn. It was beautiful clear skies and nice frozen trail and I felt so happy being on the trail again. I got a good pace going and even the uphills felt good on my calves.
I snapped pictures along the way, artsy pictures Bee calls them. I felt exhilarated after the trail turned afternoon muddy.
I was pooped by the time I hit Deep Gap Shelter. It was my longest hike at 13.1 miles and my knees were aching even after telling myself for miles to go long and slow, it's not a race. I was in the shelter and settling in my bag at 7PM but got up for the camaraderie around the fire.
Young guys were putting a roaring fire together. A couple of English lads were inquiring as to what grits was and Cowboy Connecticut was laying a tree trunk on the fire and going on how Georgia and Hiawassee was full of backward hillbillies.
That got my attention. What's a guy from Connecticut doing wearing a cowboy hat? Who does he think he is?
I wish I had something about the difference between Southern friendliness and Yankee arrogance. How people have no choice where they are born and raised.
And I did come up with a good tale of what I should have said the next day, hiking up a hard ass hill.
But I didn't say anything wise and thoughtful. I just said, I'm from Georgia.
And he said sorry man, I didn't mean to offend you Sky.
It's alright man, I said.
We ex-English teachers come up with the good lines always after the event. At least this one does.
March 17 Muskrat Creek Shelter, Ga. 81.4 Miles
It was pouring down rain when I woke up at daybreak, usually around 7:30. By 10:30 there were only five or six of us left in the shelter, and by11 Honey Bee and I stepped out into the 40 degree drizzle with my umbrella, long pants and poncho.
Thirty minutes later, I was wearing my shorts (and my underwear) and a thin cotton shirt. I'm a warm blooded person. Cold types are all bundled up with hats, gloves, puffy jackets and such, which would leave me sauna sweating in minutes. I'm glad for it. Less stuff to carry.
The day broke open into a day of glorious climbs and descents, bright burgundy mountain views and blue skies. By four o'clock I could look back at the ridge I came from the day before and feel satisfied that my hard work was not for naught.
We crossed the GA/NC border at 78 miles from Springer, took a few snaps and followed three guys and their dog, which turned out not to be their dog but a dog that had been following them for eight hours. After I gave the dog a mini-Snickers, he followed us for a few miles, and then took up with a nice Christian couple.
Good Ol' Happy Pants
You look like yer in pain man, he said.
I am, I said, holding my left fist under the strap going under my left armpit.
I bought this pack and its too small. It's killing my trapezius. Trying to keep it off my left shoulder.
He looked happy. He had a scraggly red beard and blonde hair and a toothbrush strapped to his pack strap. His name, he said, was Happy Pants and he started in Maine in September and was finishing up in March at Springer Mtn. Georgia. He walked over 2100 miles, staying in empty shelters the whole way. Never used a tent until meeting NOBO's in shelters in March who forced him into buying a tent. Happy Pants was the first Southbounder, SOBO, I'd met on the trail.
He lay back against the side of the trail. I said to myself that I would sit down if I talked to anybody he said.
Anything I should know about the trail Happy Pants?
Well, hikers are the nicest people you'll come across. And you won't need that umbrella. That's for the heat on the PCT. You won't care about weather or temperature much after awhile because you have to walk through it anyway. You haven't done much backpacking have you Sky?
Yeah. Obvious, huh? Yeah, I should have been fitted. But I've talked to experts along the way and they told me how to fit this thing. I've tried everything and nothing works.
Happy Pants smiled and said those guys know nothing. Loosen all your straps. Pull your pack as far up your back as you can. Now cinch your waist belt.
The belt is over my belly button.
Right.
Well, everybody's told me it should be on your waist, across your hip.
Yeah, well they are wrong. Now tighten up the strap across your chest. And tighten up the straps under your pits. This lifts the pack off your shoulders.
I did as instructed.
The pack was off my shoulders, the straps inches above the. Oh my God! I was in heaven! Damn! Damn Happy Pants-- you made me one Happy Sky!...Dude!
The Trail will Teach Ya, the old cowboy said spitting a tobaccy stream into the fire.
Again, I ended up leaving Honey Bee behind, she telling me to go ahead, that she was a slug. It felt good to be setting my own pace and singing a song or two alone.
When I got into Muskrat, Old Pirate was watching the dog and going to take it into town. He said it was a local's dog. Lots of locals let their dogs run loose he was told by the local pet service, and then the dogs end up on the trail. I encountered more in days ahead.
Muskrat Shelter was full and the ground aroundthe lean-to muddy. I set up tent by a clump of Rhododendrum ( after the night of the Deluge, I was edgy about setting up my tent where the wind could blow it away). I told Honey Bee where I was and said I'd like to get an early start in the morning.
Before hitting the sack, I met a guy, looked to be in his late forties, who was hiking from Florida to Maine. He said Florida and Southern Georgia was a breeze compared to after Springer.
All night long the wind whipped around the gap from one side to the other. I did my usual twelve hours sleep, tossing and turning on sore hips and back. I think I manage 8 hours sleep doing that. Whatever.
March 18 Carter Gap Shelter, NC 93.9 Miles
I woke her up at 7:45 AM from outside her tent. Baby, it's Daddy wake up baby it's time to go bye bye.
Who is that?
It's Daddy, I said. We got to go down the trail. Wake up sweet pea.
Oh, it's you. Wow. That is so weird.
I laughed. Hey let's go soon huh? While the ground is frozen?
But Honey Bee wasn't ready at 8:30. Or 9:30. She sat at the Shelter picnic table cooking oatmeal.
She said to go ahead and we'll meet up later. She seemed in a dour mood and I was a little irked at her sluggishness. And at her lack of humor.
I wanted to hit the trail while it was still frozen and avoid the mud. She likes to take her time and cook and such. I'm at the point where cooking seems to be more hassle more than joy. Cold dirty hands setting up a little canister of fuel beneath a food caked titanium cup from the night before just to eat some hot soupy oatmeal/potato glop before hitting the trail. Too Fussy. Fussy, fussy.
So I marched off into the cold and mist alone and after a few hours I felt free and happy.
March 20 The Budget Inn, Franklin, NC 109.8
Albert Mountain, fire tower, was a bitch! Practically crawling up the rocks on all fours, fifty yards or so to the summit. I was afraid to stand up so I didn't fall backwards down the mountain. Wow! What a great climb! Killer. And the sweetest part of all was that the top marked a 100 miles from Springer! Yea! I felt that I accomplished something and from the top saw the mountains of Georgia from where I had come. I felt happy going the next nine miles into Winding Stair Gap.
Another accomplishment: my farthest hike yet. 16 miles. Wow.
At 4 PM, I hitched a ride in the back of a small Toyota pickup filled with painters buckets and tools and was dropped off at the Budget Inn across from a gear store. I paid twenty-two bucks to the pajama-clad owner, who was out of rooms, clad in his pajamas and walked across the street to the bunks hostel. A hiker said he had been there four days, was sick and coughing, and that the only bunk left was thin and hard on the back. I didn't want to hear that and told the owner.
Who said that? Who was it?
I didn't want to get into it. I don't know. I need a bed. So he heaved a heavy sigh and gave me the key to the room next door. You are alone there now he said. But don't expect to stay that way.
Ok. Whatever. I wanted a shower and to wash my dirty clothes.
Happily, I had the four bunk room all to myself that night. Fantastic. I had clothes and tent hanging all over the room and turned on the air conditioner to dry them out.
Then I went down to the Frog Market and ate a huge plate of fried flounder and oysters and shrimp and veggies and a slice of buttermilk pie. No mashed potatoes.
Back in the "hostel" room, the heat didn't work. So I jumped in my warm bag on a bunk and fell asleep in the nice cold air.
This morning I skipped the all you can eat pancake breakfast at the Baptist church and went to the local bakery and had a Greek salad and a coffee. I was in the fancier part of town. A banner stretched across the street: FRANKLIN WELCOMES HIKERS!
I went into the new and very popular Outdoor 76. The place was packed. I spent three hours with the young and enthusiastic proprietor, Josh, who gave me Excellent customer service and a scientific breakdown of every point of my metatarsals. Did you know that everything below your knee is part of your foot? Neither did I. He gave me an hour breakdown of how the foot measurer works and then I said great Josh what shoes do you recommend Josh?
After trying on ten pairs of shoes I settled for the first one's I tried, Brooks Cascadia. He took me from a size 12 to a size 14. I was amazed. Really? You don't measure foot from the end of the toes he said, you measure from the end of the arch. And you are a fourteen.
I guess with two inches in front of my toes I won't jam them going downhill.
Then while he was giving a foot seminar to hikers I went downstairs and bought a new backpack. The one I landed on is called a Granite something and it is a simple bag without all the pockets and bells and whistles of the other one. I like simple. And it fit well too.
Wow. I have never had such Excellent service.
Then I checked into another hostel, the Gooder Hostel (the room to myself couldn't last) , walked a few miles to the PO and posted off my old pack and umbrella and a hiking pole--I like using just one--and went to dollar general to resupply with snacks and Tupperware. Probably another dumb idea but oh well: The Trail will Teach Ya Kid.
March 23 Gooder Hostel
Thirty-something Om had converted his house into a Hostel, with about ten bunk beds lined up in the basement and the washer/dryer down there. The main floor had a small kitchen, a refidgerator packed to the gills with food and a dining table and TV room where guys were sitting around watching The Matrix 2.
Om was a laid back guy that has a way of shuttling people to and from the mountain, getting folks laundry and food needs done and making a buck too. Nothing is done on time and if you are going to slackpack in the hills for the day, you need patience. You are on Zen time. Flow time. Not Holliday Inn time.
One of the shuttle drivers taking a few of us out to slackpack, hiking without a pack, quit that day because it was too Zen she said.
Om said she quit because she was in love and had been up for a few days partying. He was upset she left without saying a word to him.
Structure is bogus he said. If you go with the flow it all happens without stress. And you know what? He was right (though I was concerned if anyone was gonna show up after hiking on the ridge all day, the sun setting, the cold settling in, and waiting for someone to shuttle us back to the Hostel.)
I slackpacked a couple days from the hostel so that my back could heal and rest some. I think it helped. But what was interesting was that I didn't go that much faster without a pack as I did with one. But I did like the freedom of it all. They were beautiful days, clear and nice.
March 24 Nantahala Outdoor Center
This is like an outdoor center with rafting, hiking and canoeing and such with cabins and outfitters, etc, in a rustic setting. I set up a tent here down the river, the Hobo Jungle, and the next morning the waiter at the Restaurant said he would slackpack me to Stecoah Gap.
March 25 Brown Fork Gap Shelter
It was a long day but a pretty one. Long, because the thirteen miles up and over the hill was over a three thousand steady climb upward. But I loved it and hiked with Gerbil, a young cute girl from Jersey for a while. I left her halfway in and was to meet her again at Fontana Dam.
Dang it was a long long descent into the Gap. Two hours. It seemed never ending. But by 5 PM I was at the Gap.
Lumberjack and a few guys were at the picnic table drinking beer, soda and chips. They told me the waiter with my pack had come and gone at 3:30.
He finally did show up at six, saying he was passing by and thought to check on me. Nice of him. I guess he was on Zen time too.
I walked another three miles, up Jacob's Ladder, with a mother and her son, Tough Butt, who just put in a long day like myself. Boy could those two climb. She said she had been putting in fifteen days hikes for the last three days. I admire them.
The Ladder was a mile of straight up. Dang tired after that 2.5 mile climb.
That night I heard three Quaker young people singing around the fire in three part harmony. It was beautiful and I fell into a deep sleep in the six person shelter next to a guy who tossed and turned all night. Oh well.
March 26 Fontana Dam Village
Needed to pick up my air mattress from the PO but it was closed on Saturday! Bummer. I have to stay at a nice Lodge with great food and bed and bath for two days. It's funny but it is difficult to sleep in a regular bed after being on the trail and I tossed and turned all night hearing my fellow hikers drunk and partying into the night in the rooms down the hall. Been there done that.
Heading out with Gerbil tomorrow for six days on the trail. Stocking up on pop tarts, honey buns, and trail mix and bagels and cheese. Tired of pouched potatoes and grits. Glop. We'll see: The Trail will Teach Ya the old cowboy said leaning back, pulling his hat over his leather lined face and drifting off to greener pastures.
Wednesday, March 15, 2017
Byron "Crocs" Van Buren from Stover Shelter to Hiawasee, Ga 52.9 miles
Hey folks. I'm either too tired or too dirty or I can't get internet service to blog frequently at this point. I'll try to update when I get to a computer. Blogging on a phone is a hassle.
Hawk Mtn. Shelter, March 6 8.1 Miles
Left Stover Shelter without any mouse holes in my pack and walked six
miles to hawk mountain shelter. It was clear weather and a fairly easy walk with the change in elevation of about 1000 feet. It felt good to be walking.
When we arrived at Hawk MT Shelter, there were about eight people there in tents. We grabbed a spot in the lean-to and set up our sleeping pads and bags. By nightfall at least twenty-five were there and had a fire going in front of us. It got down to about 40 degrees that morning. I was tired and fell asleep pretty quickly.
Tough Nut
Found myself walking with a former Marine gunnery Sergent named Sacramento Sally. She named me Big Baby. Not digging the name and it probably won't last. Enjoying her company though. She's about 5'10" well built and a rough and tumble type, sassy and brash, but has a sweet side well hidden. Around 2002, she tells she was in a helicopter accident on a battle mission in Iraq. The operator next to her was hit and the chopper went down. When the medics got to her she was bloodied with the operator's blood and the medics thought she was hit. They didn't find out until days later that she had a spinal injury and required immediate surgery. As a result of her injury she lost all sensation in her left leg. When she walks, she literally pulls her left leg along. I christened her Tough Nut. She liked the name: "It's real," she says.
Gooch Mtn. Shelter, March 7 15.8 miles
Left Hawk Mtn andf had our first tough day. It rained and was windy for a few hours and my umbrella got some use. Worked fine. Climbing Sassafras mountain and Justus mountain was the first ruff climb. No switch backs and straight up and down a thousand feet with lots of rocks. It was hard on Tough Nut I could tell, though she didn't say anything. Marines don't complain she said. We conquer and never quit.
Along the way we ran into Honey Bee, a thirty-five year old personal trainer carrying a foam muscle knot roller and therapy balls. She was walking along at a nice even clip. She took our picture in front of a great oak with a large hole at it's base and walked with us to Gooch where there were a number of people there but a surprisingly empty lean to. Some people just do lean-tos all the way to Maine. By nightfall we had five at the bottom of the eight person shelter and four up the ladder on top.
It got down to 34 that night. At the end of the day I am tired and ready for sleep, and slept through all the socializing at the fire and just chatted with Dr. Lung, a lung specialist, bagging next to me. Honey Bee was running around camp and Tough Nut was high on some moonshine. She started talking to people about Honey Bee running around tent to tent. "You old biddy," I told her, "gossiping behind someone's back. I ought to call you old blue hair." Then Bee returned feeling high. It was 7:30 and I was tired and stuck my head inside my sleeping bag, "You do that shit to me Peg and I'll kick your ass." She laughed. "I got your back buddy," she said.
Lance Creek, designated camping area March 8 24.3 miles
Woke up and my hips were aching. Left Gooch at eight and began walking through a dense fog watching roots and rocks and by late morning I had my umbrella out in a steady drizzle. Afternoon, I put on a poncho which lasted about fifteen minutes. It was suffocating. I heat up pretty well after hiking awhile and even start sweating in 40 degree weather. But I found some good water protection inside my sack.
I met Sam "Bubble Boy," at Stover. He was wearing like two coats of puffy jacket and Tough and I got a good laugh about it. I could tell he was just a confused hillbilly. But it was hard to stop him from talking and you just had to walk away. He had a blue dingo dog with him and you could tell they were close.
About three o'clock this afternoon I ran into Sam on the side of Ramrock Mtn. Last night, he come in with a soaked pack inside, all his shit wet. Then, he got stoned and perched on the side of a hill and was sliding down it all night. Tent sliding down hill. Now, he said he was out of shape, he was afraid he was having a heart attack and his dog was whining. I sat with him about 45 minutes, and figured he was grieving over his mother who had died a few months ago. She was his rock he said. His family hated him..I told him to hitch down to Suche's in .5 miles, that he had accomplished his mission. He agreed and I left him, relieving him of his heavy Bible and heavy dog food. He must be carrying forty ponds to my 28 or so. That's nuts.
Bee and Tough were about an hour or two ahead of me. I took my time and enjoyed my solo time, taking pictures and enjoying the weather.
I'm learning how important the weather is to a hiker. This is all about the weather: It can be your best friend or harshest one. I was to learn more in coming days.
I descended into Lance Creek about 7PM . Tough was ecstatic saying how much she missed me and such. I was tired. I passed a fire and I set up a fast fly, ground cover and fly, alongside the creek with about fifteen others and was soon tossing and turning in bed at nine. Still not used to this air mattress thing. Hard sleeping when both hips are aching. Ah stop whining ya little pussy cat.
Neel Gap, US19 March 9 31.7 miles
Got a late start leaving at nine o'clock. I wanted to leave early because we had to climb Blood Mtn., at 4457 feet, our highest ascent. I also wanted to hit the famed Neel Gap and pizza. But Bee and Tough were taking their time. I dropped the dog food off with Iceberg and his terrier mutt pack dog.
Then I went up the hill, grabbed a tree and took a dump, covered it up and went down and burned Sam's heavy Bible. I wasn't going to carry the weight and no one else would either I'm sure. It wouldn't burn all the way so I buried the cover and burnt pages. I'm such a Ranger Rick Tough says, picking up trash along the trail and such. But I believe in the AT Conservatory mantra, "Pack it in, and pack it out." These woods are my sanctuary, my crazed green heaven.
Come on Leg!
It was a long slow walk to the top of Blood Mountain, named because of an Indian battle there according to the info given Tough.. It didn't get too rough until we arrived at the base of the mountain when it started a steep ascent and I had to stop every ten feet or so to catch my breath. Tough was struggling, shouting out every fifteen minutes or so, "Come on Leg! You bitch, you whore. Come on leg." So Bee and I picked up on it and we were shouting out "Come on Leg!" all the way to the top. I got to the top first and was hot and tired but tired in a good way. I took out the camera and got some shots and about half and hour later the other two arrived. There were about forty or so people up there lounging on the big rock. I went to the register, there is a register at every shelter on the AT so you can keep track of friends along the way. Tough has taken to calling me Big Daddy now and I feel like I need a gold tooth cap and some hiker ho's.
We descended Blood Mountain through a trail of low scrub trees, stubby because of the windy elevation I imagine, and many granite rocks. Bee and I were enjoying the is in pain who wants to hear some cheerful asshole singing '''Coming Round the Mountain?"
At the bottom of Blood we came into Neel Gap at about 3125. What a welcome sight: a country store! A paved street! Cars whizzing by! Food! Drink! A shower!
The Deluge or Why Never Camping was Not a Good Idea March 10
The store, Mountain Crossings, wasn't what we had expected, some kind of small village. It was a store, outdoor deck and an attached hiking shelter. It had expensive goods such as three dollar apples and a fourteen dollar titanium spork. Tough and I checked out the quarters and they were dark and dank bunks inside the "Dungeon." We decided to camp a mile and half up the ascending trail. Honey Bee opted to stay in the hostel.
And after gorging on Cokes and Sprite and apples from the largess of a hiker with a birthday, we walked up the hill, but after .4 miles or so Tough had had enough. Luckily, we ran into a campsite with two different camps. A kindly fellow waved us in and offered us homemade beef jerky, whisky and a Bud. We took the jerky and saw that he had a hammock system with tarp. It was state of the art and he seemed quite proud of it. The other campers, two guys, spent about an hour putting up their tent. Why all that trouble? I threw down a ground sheet and fly. Tough noted that the fly didn't hit the ground. Kind Guy said it was a clear night and should be fine.
Tough set up her string tree to tree Marine tarp. I set up the fast fly but I couldn't find my damn stakes and resorted to sticks in stead.
A young couple came in to set up their tent and said a church group was providing salads at the hostel. That sounded good and I went down to the hostel to do a Yogi. I had a few plates of salad, pasta salad, brownies and iced tea. We talked about Young Harris where I went to college many a day ago.
It was dark and a full moon by the time I hit the trail. Luckily there was some light. Peg was half asleep when I got there and not hungry. I hit the bag about eight.
Then I woke up to a big splash of cold air hitting my face. My stakes had come undone and half my tent was flapping in the wind. I went out and grabbed more sticks and crammed them in the ground. Kind Guy under his tarp was swinging in the wind. I grabbed my food bag, four pounds maybe, to hold down one side, my phone charger for another, and church food for another and went back to sleep.
About half an hour later another huge wind hit the side of my tent, unstaking it again. I grabbed the T of the frame so it wouldn't blow down the hill and called out to Tough to see if she was all right. She said she was coming over. She suggested holding it down with rocks. Duh. She rolled her tarp over her stuff and I threw some rocks on it and then put some on mine. Happily, I now had three closed sides and one open. Good enough.
Tough squeezed in and then right on cue, as I said, "I'm glad it's not raining," it started raining. Then thunder and lightening. It was a long series of deafening thunder claps, the lightening flashed right outside the tent like a forties press photographers light. Both of us jumped. The rain began to pour and the wind shifted from the North to the East, picking up force, probably 60 MPH, and water began streaming inside through the gap wetting our bags and all our stuff. .
We sat there until five AM eating the church's bags of salad. Then I remembered Kind Guy and pictured him in his hammock flapping in the gale like a manic waterfly. We had a good laugh and lay down in the wet bags and mud and tried to get a couple of hours in.
At seven we awoke, crammed all our muddy shit into our backpacks, and went back to the hostel at Neel's Gap.
There, we learned there were cabins just a short distance down the road. Kind Guy had called his wife to pick him up--his three day camping out was over. He said his tarp kept coming undone all done. He gave us a ride to Blood Mtn. Cabins . He is a great guy.
Tough Calls it Quits
Tough wanted booze and so caught a ride down into Helen with a few guys. She bought some whiskey and beer while Bee and I used the laundry service, doing Tough's muddy stuff too.
Nice folks at the Cabins with great pizza. We sat around the clean and cozy store drinking hot chocolate. Later, I washed out my tent and storage bags in the Fox Cabin's sink and took my pack to the shower.
Free spirit and innocent twenty-three year old Sunny decided to join us and split the cabin four ways. Tough and I took a room and Bee and Sunny took the couch and the floor.
Then Tough came back and we started drinking and guy who had been hiking with Sunny sometimes, Jo Jo, came in and thought to crash with us. He started flirting with Bee which pissed Tough off. When he and Sunny left so Sunny could buy us pizza, she went on a rant about what a rat Jo Jo was hanging around folks with money, pink blazing girls, contributing nothing. I was feeling drunk and laid on the couch to "rest up a bit." The last thing I heard was Jo Jo saying,"I'm leaving here. I don't feel welcome." Then Sunny saying "he never bothered me."
Tough shook me awake about 11PM in my bed. I must have sleep walked to my room. She said she was leaving the next day. Puss was coming out of her dead leg's heel. We went to the kitchen and shared the bottle. She told me her mother was bringing a car to pick her up in the morning. Holly awoke and said she heard her name. She told Sunny to shut up and go to sleep and Holly started crying. "She's a kid Tough," I said.
She then talked about the accident, about how the helicopter went down, how she was setting the coordinates for planes to bomb the enemy, how the operator was in his twenties with two kids, how she was in charge, and how the hit had torn off his face and drencher her in pink slime. She began crying. "I can't stop seeing it. The pink slime everywhere. Pink slime everywhere. It won't go away." Those therapists she said, "all of them just salad salad." She wiped away her tears with the back of her hand. "It won't go away."
We talked some more about our hike and I was feeling tired and climbed the loft to bed. I heard her crying as I drifted off to sleep.
I'll miss her strength and perseverance against the odds. She did more than I could ever do in her condition and she did it with out complaint. And my respect and empathy for our wounded Vets has risen profoundly. Amazing how we humans persevere through untold pains and suffering.
But I sure could use less Drama. Been there done that. I told Honey Bee that liked being by myself, always have, and the time could come when we split up. She understood: " I feel the same. Leave your number before you go."
Low Gap Shelter March 11 42 Miles
They say it takes a few weeks to get your legs. The walk to Low Gap was our longest but Bee and I did it at a two mile and hour clip, up from our 1.4 mile hour clip. It was overcast and no rain. Yea! Bee is easy to walk with, likes following, is a positive and easy talker, stopping frequently to hydrate and eat a power bar. That girl can eat!
Lots of broken rock on the trail, but I've learned to watch my step very carefully so as not to twist my ankle. The crocs are fine enough but one foot has some bruised toes. I'll check them out in Hiawassee.
We got in about 4PM and set up our tent. It is supposed to snow tonight and after the deluge I wanted the whole tent set up. There were about ten tents in the clearing. I didn't bother going to the shelter or getting water. I cooked some rice and mashed potatoes with the water I had, put some water in a cup for breakfast and went to sleep at nightfall.
About three AM I felt some cold fabric on my face and a weight on my body. In the dark I realized my tent roof had collapsed and pushed the frame up into the air seeing and hearing a gray mass slide off my tent. Oh good, it was just slush from the sleet.
But in jerking myself up in my bag, I dumped over my cup of water and it slid all over the floor of the tent. What was I thinking?
I woke up to a wet tent and a muddy bottom. The Big Agnes ground cover is practically worthless: water and mud soak over and through it. Snow blanketed the ground and after a Snicker's bar and packing up, Bee and I set off to Hiawassee for another zero mile day.
I'm picking up some trail shoes at the PO. Yea! I'll carry both shoes. I noticed my bruised foot had twisted Velcro bands. That could be the cause of the food sliding on the downhills.
Hiawassee, Ga March 12 52.2 Miles
Walked nine miles today over Blue Mtn. and descended into Unicoi Gap over the usual rocky trail. It was windy and about 35 degrees. The weather was clear. Maybe I'm a little Pollyannaish, but I feel blessed with little rain during the day and high to low forties. Hikers comment when I wear shorts on cold days. But I was wearing pants today. It's cold today.
Trail Magic at Unicoi Gap
Descended into Unicoi Gap where Bee cried out," Is that trail magic down there across that highway?" I couldn't see since I walk without my glasses but sure enough it was trail magic. Paul, Donna, and daughter Kristina were under a set up tent in the parking lot cooking hamburgers, hot dogs, and simmering chili. They had soft drinks, fruit drinks, and water for hikers and charging not a dime. Paul had done some section hiking before on the AT and wanted to give back. I could tell he had a strong spiritual side as well. I can't believe the friendly people I've met so far, hikers and non-hikers, and how people tough it out and grin through all the good times and the pain. I love it.
Trail Mama came by and took some hikers into Helen in her car. We were going the opposite direction and wanted out of the cold. I offered a rather neurotic acting lady, seventy years old and thru-hiking, named Peanut Brittle, a place at the Holiday Inn, to save money. She is booked at the hostel the next day she says.
We got picked up after a half and hour of thumbing by a former thru-hiker and she dropped us off at the Holiday Inn, the popular Hikers Hostel being full. They got all you can eat breakfast and indoor pool and hot tub! Wow luxury.
Hiawassee/Bee Sick and I Ain't Bouncy Either March 13
Bee is all red under her nose and has a fever from a hand check. She coughed all night and Peanut Brittle, about 5'3" with down to her butt long gray hair, and cracked knarly hands, puttered around not taking a shower or doing laundry. Bee was exasperated with her I could tell.
The next day I took Peanut Brittle down to Safeway (rice packets), Ingles (sleeping aides, Tylenol, and mole wrap for the toes), the Hardware Store (light painters outfit and ground cloth?), the 5 and dime (nail clippers--my toe nail is coming off), and to the PO for shoes. Sent one pair back. Can't wait to try them out. Around 2Pm I told Peanut that we were leaving the room and she needed to go to the hostel that she had booked. Subtly don't work with some people.
Bee looked at me in her laid back way and said," Are you through Ranger Ricking everyone?" I had to laugh at that. But I like Peanut Brittle; she's just a little quirky.
My traps are killing me. I''ve been wearing my pack cinched wrong most likely and at 5'11", I have the same size medium pack as Peanut; I should've gotten a large. Each time I turn my head a certain way my traps scream out in pain, like its been torn. It hurts just typing at this computer at the Inn. If it ain't one thing it's another. But around here I'm hearing about shin splints, Achilles heels and blisters and bunions and lost nails. Come on Leg!!
Tonight the middle-aged Columbian man and wife came in. They are nice people and have been a day behind us since Gooch. They are at a little loggerheads because she wants to carry lots of food and doesn't want to get out of her bag on freezing mornings, so they leave late and set up late. Not a good practice. Oh well. We ate Mexican tonight. I ate a salad with shrimp and helped the couple eat some of their huge plate of chicken and beef. What a kind soul I am.
Arranged for a shuttle tomorrow at nine to take us back to Unicoi Gap. My traps are stabbing me at every turn of my head but I'm over the hot tub and indoor life.
Hiawassee/ Tweeking Gear and Recovering March 14
Jammer came in today and said he wouldn't go out today or tomorrow because it is supposed to snow heavily and the temperature will be down to the teens. He says he know because he has done the AT twice.
So I spent the night shedding pounds off my pack, trying to reach 20lbs. Reducing 5lbs of food to four days at 4lbs. with oatmeal and grits packets (courtesy of the Holiday Inn) and mashed potatoes which are lighter than rice. Ditched the tuna packets cause they stink up your hands and your tent. Carrying about a pound or two of candy bars. Power bars suck and I am favoring Snickers and Baby Ruths during the day. Gummi Bears are great.
Tommorrow I'll see if I can trade out my Nemo air mattress. Not happy with it. Too bouncy. Jammer says you spend a lot of money learning what works for you. It just is.
Hiawassee/March 15
Returning the shoes my wife sent me. I like my sport crocs better. Gonna forward the mattress to Fontana Village, about one hundred miles away, and test out this new air m V1 mattress I bought this morning. It has less warmth but with my emergency blanket and sleeping in my hiking clothes I should be fine. I'm happy with my Radiant bag.
Looks like Number Nine who is all over You Tube just arrived. He is interviewing people in the lobby. "Why are you hiking?" I really don't wanna get into it. I need to get to the P.O..
Something else: The Columbian couple said they saw Tough a couple days ago. Her brother had come down and taped her foot and she was looking for us. She passed Unicoi Gap and was probably a couple days ahead of us by now.
Hawk Mtn. Shelter, March 6 8.1 Miles
Left Stover Shelter without any mouse holes in my pack and walked six
miles to hawk mountain shelter. It was clear weather and a fairly easy walk with the change in elevation of about 1000 feet. It felt good to be walking.
When we arrived at Hawk MT Shelter, there were about eight people there in tents. We grabbed a spot in the lean-to and set up our sleeping pads and bags. By nightfall at least twenty-five were there and had a fire going in front of us. It got down to about 40 degrees that morning. I was tired and fell asleep pretty quickly.
Tough Nut
Found myself walking with a former Marine gunnery Sergent named Sacramento Sally. She named me Big Baby. Not digging the name and it probably won't last. Enjoying her company though. She's about 5'10" well built and a rough and tumble type, sassy and brash, but has a sweet side well hidden. Around 2002, she tells she was in a helicopter accident on a battle mission in Iraq. The operator next to her was hit and the chopper went down. When the medics got to her she was bloodied with the operator's blood and the medics thought she was hit. They didn't find out until days later that she had a spinal injury and required immediate surgery. As a result of her injury she lost all sensation in her left leg. When she walks, she literally pulls her left leg along. I christened her Tough Nut. She liked the name: "It's real," she says.
Gooch Mtn. Shelter, March 7 15.8 miles
Left Hawk Mtn andf had our first tough day. It rained and was windy for a few hours and my umbrella got some use. Worked fine. Climbing Sassafras mountain and Justus mountain was the first ruff climb. No switch backs and straight up and down a thousand feet with lots of rocks. It was hard on Tough Nut I could tell, though she didn't say anything. Marines don't complain she said. We conquer and never quit.
Along the way we ran into Honey Bee, a thirty-five year old personal trainer carrying a foam muscle knot roller and therapy balls. She was walking along at a nice even clip. She took our picture in front of a great oak with a large hole at it's base and walked with us to Gooch where there were a number of people there but a surprisingly empty lean to. Some people just do lean-tos all the way to Maine. By nightfall we had five at the bottom of the eight person shelter and four up the ladder on top.
It got down to 34 that night. At the end of the day I am tired and ready for sleep, and slept through all the socializing at the fire and just chatted with Dr. Lung, a lung specialist, bagging next to me. Honey Bee was running around camp and Tough Nut was high on some moonshine. She started talking to people about Honey Bee running around tent to tent. "You old biddy," I told her, "gossiping behind someone's back. I ought to call you old blue hair." Then Bee returned feeling high. It was 7:30 and I was tired and stuck my head inside my sleeping bag, "You do that shit to me Peg and I'll kick your ass." She laughed. "I got your back buddy," she said.
Lance Creek, designated camping area March 8 24.3 miles
Woke up and my hips were aching. Left Gooch at eight and began walking through a dense fog watching roots and rocks and by late morning I had my umbrella out in a steady drizzle. Afternoon, I put on a poncho which lasted about fifteen minutes. It was suffocating. I heat up pretty well after hiking awhile and even start sweating in 40 degree weather. But I found some good water protection inside my sack.
I met Sam "Bubble Boy," at Stover. He was wearing like two coats of puffy jacket and Tough and I got a good laugh about it. I could tell he was just a confused hillbilly. But it was hard to stop him from talking and you just had to walk away. He had a blue dingo dog with him and you could tell they were close.
About three o'clock this afternoon I ran into Sam on the side of Ramrock Mtn. Last night, he come in with a soaked pack inside, all his shit wet. Then, he got stoned and perched on the side of a hill and was sliding down it all night. Tent sliding down hill. Now, he said he was out of shape, he was afraid he was having a heart attack and his dog was whining. I sat with him about 45 minutes, and figured he was grieving over his mother who had died a few months ago. She was his rock he said. His family hated him..I told him to hitch down to Suche's in .5 miles, that he had accomplished his mission. He agreed and I left him, relieving him of his heavy Bible and heavy dog food. He must be carrying forty ponds to my 28 or so. That's nuts.
Bee and Tough were about an hour or two ahead of me. I took my time and enjoyed my solo time, taking pictures and enjoying the weather.
I'm learning how important the weather is to a hiker. This is all about the weather: It can be your best friend or harshest one. I was to learn more in coming days.
I descended into Lance Creek about 7PM . Tough was ecstatic saying how much she missed me and such. I was tired. I passed a fire and I set up a fast fly, ground cover and fly, alongside the creek with about fifteen others and was soon tossing and turning in bed at nine. Still not used to this air mattress thing. Hard sleeping when both hips are aching. Ah stop whining ya little pussy cat.
Neel Gap, US19 March 9 31.7 miles
Got a late start leaving at nine o'clock. I wanted to leave early because we had to climb Blood Mtn., at 4457 feet, our highest ascent. I also wanted to hit the famed Neel Gap and pizza. But Bee and Tough were taking their time. I dropped the dog food off with Iceberg and his terrier mutt pack dog.
Then I went up the hill, grabbed a tree and took a dump, covered it up and went down and burned Sam's heavy Bible. I wasn't going to carry the weight and no one else would either I'm sure. It wouldn't burn all the way so I buried the cover and burnt pages. I'm such a Ranger Rick Tough says, picking up trash along the trail and such. But I believe in the AT Conservatory mantra, "Pack it in, and pack it out." These woods are my sanctuary, my crazed green heaven.
Come on Leg!
It was a long slow walk to the top of Blood Mountain, named because of an Indian battle there according to the info given Tough.. It didn't get too rough until we arrived at the base of the mountain when it started a steep ascent and I had to stop every ten feet or so to catch my breath. Tough was struggling, shouting out every fifteen minutes or so, "Come on Leg! You bitch, you whore. Come on leg." So Bee and I picked up on it and we were shouting out "Come on Leg!" all the way to the top. I got to the top first and was hot and tired but tired in a good way. I took out the camera and got some shots and about half and hour later the other two arrived. There were about forty or so people up there lounging on the big rock. I went to the register, there is a register at every shelter on the AT so you can keep track of friends along the way. Tough has taken to calling me Big Daddy now and I feel like I need a gold tooth cap and some hiker ho's.
We descended Blood Mountain through a trail of low scrub trees, stubby because of the windy elevation I imagine, and many granite rocks. Bee and I were enjoying the is in pain who wants to hear some cheerful asshole singing '''Coming Round the Mountain?"
At the bottom of Blood we came into Neel Gap at about 3125. What a welcome sight: a country store! A paved street! Cars whizzing by! Food! Drink! A shower!
The Deluge or Why Never Camping was Not a Good Idea March 10
The store, Mountain Crossings, wasn't what we had expected, some kind of small village. It was a store, outdoor deck and an attached hiking shelter. It had expensive goods such as three dollar apples and a fourteen dollar titanium spork. Tough and I checked out the quarters and they were dark and dank bunks inside the "Dungeon." We decided to camp a mile and half up the ascending trail. Honey Bee opted to stay in the hostel.
And after gorging on Cokes and Sprite and apples from the largess of a hiker with a birthday, we walked up the hill, but after .4 miles or so Tough had had enough. Luckily, we ran into a campsite with two different camps. A kindly fellow waved us in and offered us homemade beef jerky, whisky and a Bud. We took the jerky and saw that he had a hammock system with tarp. It was state of the art and he seemed quite proud of it. The other campers, two guys, spent about an hour putting up their tent. Why all that trouble? I threw down a ground sheet and fly. Tough noted that the fly didn't hit the ground. Kind Guy said it was a clear night and should be fine.
Tough set up her string tree to tree Marine tarp. I set up the fast fly but I couldn't find my damn stakes and resorted to sticks in stead.
A young couple came in to set up their tent and said a church group was providing salads at the hostel. That sounded good and I went down to the hostel to do a Yogi. I had a few plates of salad, pasta salad, brownies and iced tea. We talked about Young Harris where I went to college many a day ago.
It was dark and a full moon by the time I hit the trail. Luckily there was some light. Peg was half asleep when I got there and not hungry. I hit the bag about eight.
Then I woke up to a big splash of cold air hitting my face. My stakes had come undone and half my tent was flapping in the wind. I went out and grabbed more sticks and crammed them in the ground. Kind Guy under his tarp was swinging in the wind. I grabbed my food bag, four pounds maybe, to hold down one side, my phone charger for another, and church food for another and went back to sleep.
About half an hour later another huge wind hit the side of my tent, unstaking it again. I grabbed the T of the frame so it wouldn't blow down the hill and called out to Tough to see if she was all right. She said she was coming over. She suggested holding it down with rocks. Duh. She rolled her tarp over her stuff and I threw some rocks on it and then put some on mine. Happily, I now had three closed sides and one open. Good enough.
Tough squeezed in and then right on cue, as I said, "I'm glad it's not raining," it started raining. Then thunder and lightening. It was a long series of deafening thunder claps, the lightening flashed right outside the tent like a forties press photographers light. Both of us jumped. The rain began to pour and the wind shifted from the North to the East, picking up force, probably 60 MPH, and water began streaming inside through the gap wetting our bags and all our stuff. .
We sat there until five AM eating the church's bags of salad. Then I remembered Kind Guy and pictured him in his hammock flapping in the gale like a manic waterfly. We had a good laugh and lay down in the wet bags and mud and tried to get a couple of hours in.
At seven we awoke, crammed all our muddy shit into our backpacks, and went back to the hostel at Neel's Gap.
There, we learned there were cabins just a short distance down the road. Kind Guy had called his wife to pick him up--his three day camping out was over. He said his tarp kept coming undone all done. He gave us a ride to Blood Mtn. Cabins . He is a great guy.
Tough Calls it Quits
Tough wanted booze and so caught a ride down into Helen with a few guys. She bought some whiskey and beer while Bee and I used the laundry service, doing Tough's muddy stuff too.
Nice folks at the Cabins with great pizza. We sat around the clean and cozy store drinking hot chocolate. Later, I washed out my tent and storage bags in the Fox Cabin's sink and took my pack to the shower.
Free spirit and innocent twenty-three year old Sunny decided to join us and split the cabin four ways. Tough and I took a room and Bee and Sunny took the couch and the floor.
Then Tough came back and we started drinking and guy who had been hiking with Sunny sometimes, Jo Jo, came in and thought to crash with us. He started flirting with Bee which pissed Tough off. When he and Sunny left so Sunny could buy us pizza, she went on a rant about what a rat Jo Jo was hanging around folks with money, pink blazing girls, contributing nothing. I was feeling drunk and laid on the couch to "rest up a bit." The last thing I heard was Jo Jo saying,"I'm leaving here. I don't feel welcome." Then Sunny saying "he never bothered me."
Tough shook me awake about 11PM in my bed. I must have sleep walked to my room. She said she was leaving the next day. Puss was coming out of her dead leg's heel. We went to the kitchen and shared the bottle. She told me her mother was bringing a car to pick her up in the morning. Holly awoke and said she heard her name. She told Sunny to shut up and go to sleep and Holly started crying. "She's a kid Tough," I said.
She then talked about the accident, about how the helicopter went down, how she was setting the coordinates for planes to bomb the enemy, how the operator was in his twenties with two kids, how she was in charge, and how the hit had torn off his face and drencher her in pink slime. She began crying. "I can't stop seeing it. The pink slime everywhere. Pink slime everywhere. It won't go away." Those therapists she said, "all of them just salad salad." She wiped away her tears with the back of her hand. "It won't go away."
We talked some more about our hike and I was feeling tired and climbed the loft to bed. I heard her crying as I drifted off to sleep.
I'll miss her strength and perseverance against the odds. She did more than I could ever do in her condition and she did it with out complaint. And my respect and empathy for our wounded Vets has risen profoundly. Amazing how we humans persevere through untold pains and suffering.
But I sure could use less Drama. Been there done that. I told Honey Bee that liked being by myself, always have, and the time could come when we split up. She understood: " I feel the same. Leave your number before you go."
Low Gap Shelter March 11 42 Miles
They say it takes a few weeks to get your legs. The walk to Low Gap was our longest but Bee and I did it at a two mile and hour clip, up from our 1.4 mile hour clip. It was overcast and no rain. Yea! Bee is easy to walk with, likes following, is a positive and easy talker, stopping frequently to hydrate and eat a power bar. That girl can eat!
Lots of broken rock on the trail, but I've learned to watch my step very carefully so as not to twist my ankle. The crocs are fine enough but one foot has some bruised toes. I'll check them out in Hiawassee.
We got in about 4PM and set up our tent. It is supposed to snow tonight and after the deluge I wanted the whole tent set up. There were about ten tents in the clearing. I didn't bother going to the shelter or getting water. I cooked some rice and mashed potatoes with the water I had, put some water in a cup for breakfast and went to sleep at nightfall.
About three AM I felt some cold fabric on my face and a weight on my body. In the dark I realized my tent roof had collapsed and pushed the frame up into the air seeing and hearing a gray mass slide off my tent. Oh good, it was just slush from the sleet.
But in jerking myself up in my bag, I dumped over my cup of water and it slid all over the floor of the tent. What was I thinking?
I woke up to a wet tent and a muddy bottom. The Big Agnes ground cover is practically worthless: water and mud soak over and through it. Snow blanketed the ground and after a Snicker's bar and packing up, Bee and I set off to Hiawassee for another zero mile day.
I'm picking up some trail shoes at the PO. Yea! I'll carry both shoes. I noticed my bruised foot had twisted Velcro bands. That could be the cause of the food sliding on the downhills.
Hiawassee, Ga March 12 52.2 Miles
Walked nine miles today over Blue Mtn. and descended into Unicoi Gap over the usual rocky trail. It was windy and about 35 degrees. The weather was clear. Maybe I'm a little Pollyannaish, but I feel blessed with little rain during the day and high to low forties. Hikers comment when I wear shorts on cold days. But I was wearing pants today. It's cold today.
Trail Magic at Unicoi Gap
Descended into Unicoi Gap where Bee cried out," Is that trail magic down there across that highway?" I couldn't see since I walk without my glasses but sure enough it was trail magic. Paul, Donna, and daughter Kristina were under a set up tent in the parking lot cooking hamburgers, hot dogs, and simmering chili. They had soft drinks, fruit drinks, and water for hikers and charging not a dime. Paul had done some section hiking before on the AT and wanted to give back. I could tell he had a strong spiritual side as well. I can't believe the friendly people I've met so far, hikers and non-hikers, and how people tough it out and grin through all the good times and the pain. I love it.
Trail Mama came by and took some hikers into Helen in her car. We were going the opposite direction and wanted out of the cold. I offered a rather neurotic acting lady, seventy years old and thru-hiking, named Peanut Brittle, a place at the Holiday Inn, to save money. She is booked at the hostel the next day she says.
We got picked up after a half and hour of thumbing by a former thru-hiker and she dropped us off at the Holiday Inn, the popular Hikers Hostel being full. They got all you can eat breakfast and indoor pool and hot tub! Wow luxury.
Hiawassee/Bee Sick and I Ain't Bouncy Either March 13
Bee is all red under her nose and has a fever from a hand check. She coughed all night and Peanut Brittle, about 5'3" with down to her butt long gray hair, and cracked knarly hands, puttered around not taking a shower or doing laundry. Bee was exasperated with her I could tell.
The next day I took Peanut Brittle down to Safeway (rice packets), Ingles (sleeping aides, Tylenol, and mole wrap for the toes), the Hardware Store (light painters outfit and ground cloth?), the 5 and dime (nail clippers--my toe nail is coming off), and to the PO for shoes. Sent one pair back. Can't wait to try them out. Around 2Pm I told Peanut that we were leaving the room and she needed to go to the hostel that she had booked. Subtly don't work with some people.
Bee looked at me in her laid back way and said," Are you through Ranger Ricking everyone?" I had to laugh at that. But I like Peanut Brittle; she's just a little quirky.
My traps are killing me. I''ve been wearing my pack cinched wrong most likely and at 5'11", I have the same size medium pack as Peanut; I should've gotten a large. Each time I turn my head a certain way my traps scream out in pain, like its been torn. It hurts just typing at this computer at the Inn. If it ain't one thing it's another. But around here I'm hearing about shin splints, Achilles heels and blisters and bunions and lost nails. Come on Leg!!
Tonight the middle-aged Columbian man and wife came in. They are nice people and have been a day behind us since Gooch. They are at a little loggerheads because she wants to carry lots of food and doesn't want to get out of her bag on freezing mornings, so they leave late and set up late. Not a good practice. Oh well. We ate Mexican tonight. I ate a salad with shrimp and helped the couple eat some of their huge plate of chicken and beef. What a kind soul I am.
Arranged for a shuttle tomorrow at nine to take us back to Unicoi Gap. My traps are stabbing me at every turn of my head but I'm over the hot tub and indoor life.
Hiawassee/ Tweeking Gear and Recovering March 14
Jammer came in today and said he wouldn't go out today or tomorrow because it is supposed to snow heavily and the temperature will be down to the teens. He says he know because he has done the AT twice.
So I spent the night shedding pounds off my pack, trying to reach 20lbs. Reducing 5lbs of food to four days at 4lbs. with oatmeal and grits packets (courtesy of the Holiday Inn) and mashed potatoes which are lighter than rice. Ditched the tuna packets cause they stink up your hands and your tent. Carrying about a pound or two of candy bars. Power bars suck and I am favoring Snickers and Baby Ruths during the day. Gummi Bears are great.
Tommorrow I'll see if I can trade out my Nemo air mattress. Not happy with it. Too bouncy. Jammer says you spend a lot of money learning what works for you. It just is.
Hiawassee/March 15
Returning the shoes my wife sent me. I like my sport crocs better. Gonna forward the mattress to Fontana Village, about one hundred miles away, and test out this new air m V1 mattress I bought this morning. It has less warmth but with my emergency blanket and sleeping in my hiking clothes I should be fine. I'm happy with my Radiant bag.
Looks like Number Nine who is all over You Tube just arrived. He is interviewing people in the lobby. "Why are you hiking?" I really don't wanna get into it. I need to get to the P.O..
Something else: The Columbian couple said they saw Tough a couple days ago. Her brother had come down and taped her foot and she was looking for us. She passed Unicoi Gap and was probably a couple days ahead of us by now.
Monday, March 6, 2017
Byron "big baby" van buren at hawk mt shelter
Yesterday, my first day, I walked up to the summit, about .09 miles up and back, of Springer Mountain with 12 members of my family and extended family. It is the official starting place. It was quite the caravan. Then, I walked the trail about three miles to Stover Shelter. At the shelter I was told the next shelter 8 miles away was packed so I grabbed a spot in the shelter with a few other guys and gals. One of the girls, Sacramento Sally, said with all that family sending you off you are a big baby. "Where you from Big Baby? " she asked.
So I got my trail name on the first day. Not the one I had expected such as Skywalker or Nashville Star. Ah well....
KM told me that a giant rat had eaten into her food bag the night before and she woke up screaming. She showed me the inch long hole. I told her she should have just flicked it out of the tent and she smirked, "no way in hell."
I had a rough time sleeping last night, even after gong to sleep at 7. It was cold and I kept hearing scratching sounds near my backpack where I had slipped a piece of chicken the day before. I went to sleep with eyes open.
So I got my trail name on the first day. Not the one I had expected such as Skywalker or Nashville Star. Ah well....
KM told me that a giant rat had eaten into her food bag the night before and she woke up screaming. She showed me the inch long hole. I told her she should have just flicked it out of the tent and she smirked, "no way in hell."
I had a rough time sleeping last night, even after gong to sleep at 7. It was cold and I kept hearing scratching sounds near my backpack where I had slipped a piece of chicken the day before. I went to sleep with eyes open.
Sunday, March 5, 2017
Byron's Thru-hike 2017 Atlanta, Georgia
Woke up at 5:30 this morning, still working on this blogger thing. Technology is not my forte!
After lunch in Dahlonega my wife, father and sister will be driving me up to the trailhead on Springer Mountain for my sendoff. My father has been assiduously studying the maps to the trailhead, printing out screenshots, and has us traveling up the dirt service roads to where I'll be dropped off. Captain, oh my Captain! My wife, a safety professional, has been very supportive and insisted I have a great phone charger in case I get lost in the woods (or mauled by a bear and dumped into a ravine.) Not too worried about that. I have a compass for location and an umbrella to flap at attacking beasts.
I have also learned that my brother, Bruce, and family; a family friend Connie; and my brother-in-law and family are planning to meet us in Dahlonega. I feel blessed.
Looking forward to nice walk in the woods. Supposed to be overcast today. I'll walk .09 up to the top of Springer Mountain to the official southern terminus starting point and retrace my steps eight miles to Hawk Mountain Shelter. There are shelters, lean-to's usually within a ten to twenty mile walk. It'll be either lean-to or tent. Probably tent tonight since I'll be arriving around six and all 12 sleeping spots could be filled. I noticed in my AT guidebook that most shelters fit six to eight.
Woke up at 5:30 this morning, still working on this blogger thing. Technology is not my forte!
After lunch in Dahlonega my wife, father and sister will be driving me up to the trailhead on Springer Mountain for my sendoff. My father has been assiduously studying the maps to the trailhead, printing out screenshots, and has us traveling up the dirt service roads to where I'll be dropped off. Captain, oh my Captain! My wife, a safety professional, has been very supportive and insisted I have a great phone charger in case I get lost in the woods (or mauled by a bear and dumped into a ravine.) Not too worried about that. I have a compass for location and an umbrella to flap at attacking beasts.
I have also learned that my brother, Bruce, and family; a family friend Connie; and my brother-in-law and family are planning to meet us in Dahlonega. I feel blessed.
Looking forward to nice walk in the woods. Supposed to be overcast today. I'll walk .09 up to the top of Springer Mountain to the official southern terminus starting point and retrace my steps eight miles to Hawk Mountain Shelter. There are shelters, lean-to's usually within a ten to twenty mile walk. It'll be either lean-to or tent. Probably tent tonight since I'll be arriving around six and all 12 sleeping spots could be filled. I noticed in my AT guidebook that most shelters fit six to eight.
Wednesday, March 1, 2017
Appalachian Trail Pre-Hike Nashville, Tn 2/28/17
Byron Van Buren's Appalachian Thru-Hike 2017
Boring Gear Talk
In five days I'll be walking the Appalachian Trail at Springer Mountain, Georgia and taking my first steps toward Katahdin Mountain, Maine --2185.6 miles of trail with a few miles of off-trail town visits along the way. And for the past seven months, since I decided to take this hike, I've been reading blogs, talking to hikers at REI, and watching You Tube videos of hikers talking about their hike, their gear, their must-do's and must-nots. I took some of their advice and from the folks at REI and now have backpacking clothes, gear, and a general sense of what to expect. But I have done a lot of tweeking along the way.
Shoes for instance. If your feet are the wheels, shoes are the tires. Hiking boots are not in fashion because they are considered heavy and even with water-proof Gore-Tex, rain can slip in and not be able to get out. So light and fast drying trail runners are the most popular hiking shoe.
But I've had trouble fitting the right shoe: I have a size 12 foot wide . Since August I have bought and returned at least Ten pair of trail-runners: Solomon's, Merrells, Altras, Nike, Keen, Hoka. I could open a shoe store. None seemed to fit right or they were waterproof and too hot. Amazon was so concerned with my returns that they wrote me a letter asking if I had a problem. Finally I ordered a pair of plain Jane Aetrex shoes and they fit all right and worked well on the Percy Warner trail.
But. Last week, I said "screw it, I'll just walk in my shock absorbing, load spreading, anti-fungal stylish Crocs and if they don't work I'll have my wife, Terrie, ship me the Aetrex at a PO on the trail." Now, I have three pair of Crocs ready to be shipped ahead if needed. My takeaway on this: Hike your own hike. Do what you like, like what you do--Life is Good _R
In August, my first purchase was an Osprey Exos 58 Backpack recommended by a few online reviewers. It's lightweight, 3 pounds, it has cushioned air between my back and the pack, and it has many pockets. With my tent and sleeping bag in compression sacks, there is still a few inches to spare. And the cushioned space that I mentioned before, is a good place to keep my trekking umbrella.
My first sleeping bag, a custom made quilt, was raved about in some quarters, It took two months to make in Minnesota. I tried it out on the porch one cool night and felt the cold draft coming through the buttoned sides. I couldn't sleep. So I sent it back, went to REI the next day and bought a light zippered mummy bag, an REI Radiant 19 degree, wide and long (sleep is important to me), for half the price. It weighs a few pounds and compress's easily.
I have a Big Agnes 2 tent that I bought in September from REI that I still have. I haven't slept in it yet and it has been suggested that camping in it would be a wise move. But I figure I have five or six months to get acclimated to it. I did buy a footprint, the sheet that fits under the tent even, though a few "experts" said it was unnecessary on the AT. A guy at REI, a former Thru-hiker, "Missing Link," showed me how to use the footprint and the fly for a fast set-up without the mesh main tent. So the footprint could come in handy.
With gear, like most things, what works for one person may not for another. Hike your own hike. Popularity is a sometime thing. I'm glad I tested the waters, even if I did get a little over obsessive and anxious with shoes. Sheesh!!
Here is a list of other things in my new "mobile-home":
Wallet; Storage Bag of iPhone, charger, wires); Sawyer mini water filter; pocket rocket with two cups; headlamp; compass/whistle; trek umbrella; Nemo sleeping mattress; air pillow (bought pillow covers today--luxury ha!); first aid--vitamin I (ibuprofen, Advil), tape, bandaids, Burt's foot cream ; toiletries; toilet paper; zip lock storage bags; Food bag for six days-- Storage Bags of: Fruit and Power Bars/Muesli/Oatmeal/couscous/powdered milk/Granola/mashed potatoes/lentils/cheese?/fruit?/bottle of Zin (kidding).
Clothes (cotton is rotten in rain): layering for warm (?)winter--black polo shirt; black Marmot fleece; Gray Etos wind meshed jacket. Black meshed Yoga shorts w/my velcroed pockets (my underwear); black ski tights; synthetic pants (my wife's gift (Lou Lou Lemon); Marmot rain pants; 2 Darn Tough socks, 2 Merino wool socks; ski cap; Coleman rain poncho;Crocs.
Total Weight including pack: 28 lbs. Goal is 20-23lb.
Byron Van Buren's Appalachian Thru-Hike 2017
My Dog Murphy
My buddy, my companion, my fellow trail walker and traveler, Murphy, was put to sleep a couple of days ago.
He was a 12 year old lab mix and had stopped eating for almost a month. Stomach cancer? Could have been arthritic pills. Who knows. I miss him badly.
Murphy was a puppy when he was picked up sitting by the expressway in Murfreesboro, Tn. Hence, his name Murphy. He was a friendly, gentle, dog and loved to be pet by anyone, anywhere, and never barked, calmly and stoically handling pain and cold baths; he was terrified of thunder and never learned that walking in front of moving cars was dangerous. He could walk for miles through forested hilly parks and as I did, he loved it.
I believed in him. I went to bat for him in Court in fact. My paranoid neighbor insisted that I walk him with a leash and I self-righteously refused, citing the law. In court, I told the judge that he was obedient and gentle and under my control. I showed him a picture of Murphy sitting complacently in the passenger seat of my little Miata sports car. Of course, with the neighbor's sneaky pictures of Murphy peeing in a bush, I lost the hearing, the judge commenting with a grin that he liked my picture of the dog in the car; and then later that week, to my chagrin, I discovered that Murphy actually liked pulling on a leash. Go figure.
Murphy was not that clever but he made up for it in gentle enthusiasm, much like his Master.
Speaking of masters and dogs: When you walk your dog and you come across others, don't tug at him too hard. You are teaching him to be paranoid of others and he will respond protectively in the future. I have seen anxious people yanking their dogs all the time as I passed them, teaching the dog to be anxious. Stop, be calm, tighten the leash perhaps and let the person pass.
Praise your dog when they are gentle and that is good training--unless, of course, you want a defensive anxious guard dog. Then tug away.
I hope my wife finds a nice puppy while I amble along. I am sorry that Murph the Surf died, but I'm glad he died before my hike, on a nice lawn, outside the vet clinic, with me holding him. I like the way the kind vet put him to sleep: a sedative shot; then ten minutes later the phenobarbitol.
And I do hope Terrie finds a cute pup while I'm on the trail.
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