Big miles? Laurel Fork River

I'm ready for a strong hiking day. I wrapped a sore ankle and got an early start. The trail footing is good. By 11am ten miles are gone!

I stopped at a nice rocky viewpoint for lunch, drained the blood blister under the toenail, and posted blog entries from the last three days (I could see the cell tower in the valley below!).

It's a good hiking day. The weather is dry and calm, not cold and not hot. The pack weight is getting manageable as the days pass and the food bags shrink. With water sources every few miles at most, there is little need to carry much. It feels good to see a big mile day coming since miles have been tough lately. The ankle pain is increasing and the legs are tired, but we're on a roll. 

Mostly Sunny: Mountaineer Shelter

The weather report forecast more rain today so I spent much of the night chilled trying to get my gear dry, using the only source of heat I have: me. In the morning, I needed to stay in the sleeping bag a little later than normal to get the moisture out of it. 

It turns out that the sun broke through off and on all day and there was no rain. 

I am a bit behind the next planned meetup with Spirit and the late start didn't help.

Wet and Cold: Overmountain Shelter

What a yucky day. No fun at all. The showers and rain poured all day, amid cold wind. In several places the trail was a fast creek for a mile at a time so the feet were soaked. 

More seriously, my rain gear failed. I quickly noticed the rain coat leaking so pulled off my warm shirts to keep them from getting any wetter. 

I walked wet all day and was too cold to stop unless I pitched the tent or found a shelter. I ate all of the day's snacks in morning, deferring lunch to Roan High Knob Shelter. But at 6194 feet, it was too cold to stop - there were even two little snow patches. I pushed on without lunch, but all my heat was from my internal furnace and I needed to give it fuel.

Play Misty for Me

Today had some spectacular views. I could tell because there isn't much other reason to hike up exposed grassy knobs.  My view was just gray, and the wind blew cold. Mild showers came and went all day, but I stayed dry enough.

With the cold wind and forecasted rain tonight, I found a very protected place to tent. On the leeward side of the ridge was an old abandoned roadcut, providing a flat spot out of the direct wind. 

Not a very fun day, but 21.9 more miles are done. 

Erwin TN, stay at Uncle Johnny's

Pretty day. Great sunrise, up early. 

Hiked 22 miles in 10 hours of actual hiking, some of it with a good pace and some up hills at a crawl. It's a pretty good trail here with only limited footing challenges. Off and on I hiked with several different folks. 

Arriving at Uncle Johnny's in Erwin TN, the first order of business is a hot shower, then a mail drop and pizza. 

Meadow north of Sams Gap

Early start, late finish and slow pace. 18.7 miles; better but not great. I just can't get the pace back up again. 

I took a two hour lunch to drain the blood blister under and around big toe nail and let dry in sun, so that slowed me down. I'm being very careful to avoid an infection. 

Today I met two hikers who started the same day I did!  Most of the hikers in this stretch started about two weeks earlier.  The big wave that started April 1 is about a week behind. It appears there is another wave of earlier starts perhaps a week ahead. I'm in a quiet lull in between. Nice. 

Jerry Cabin Shelter

The forecast is thunderstorms later in day. I had low energy all day, moving slowly. I stopped at the first rain, skipped three hours of hiking and covered just 13.6 miles.

The highlight was a cool exposed knife ridge of granite slabs, called Big Firescald Knob. Another hiker commented "Now that's what I've been waiting for".  It's a scramble up massive granite slabs and steps with a great view.  I was glad I finished it before the rain started.

Deep Gap

Some stayed in Hot Springs 2 days, some 3, one was not sure but guessed it was 5. Everyone stayed longer than expected because it is a great trail town. There isn't much to the town except the outfitter, restaurants, hostels, laundry, clinic and grocery stores.  Everything is perfect for thru hikers and close together. 

Healing? Hot Springs

After 13 hours of sleep my leg should be good to go, you think?

The morning starts with a simple walk up Max Patch, a high treeless knob with amazing views. A half dozen brave souls tented on the top last night and got to see the sunset. They also felt the full wrath of the cold wind and are all still in their tents. 

By early afternoon the leg hurts again. A repeat of yesterday? I don't want the injury to get worse so I rest and elevate again. This time it helps. The pain and swelling has shifted from the shin to the ankle so I alter the bandaging. It is sore but doesn't seem to bad. I arrive in Hot Springs at dusk, 20 miles. 

Will I be fully healed tomorrow? 

Elusive miles: Max Patch Road

The hike to Hot Springs was supposed to be easy. Just 33 miles; I'll be there in a day and a half. Then yesterday's half day was just one mile.

There is an annual hiker festival in Hot Springs today and tomorrow. Maybe I can still get there early tomorrow?

The injured shin looks and feels great. The body is amazing.

But after a few hours it starts to hurt and I begin to limp. Then hobble. I stop for an hour to rest and elevate the leg. It doesn't help so I look for the first flat spot and water. At 4 pm I am done for the day, with just 13 miles. By 6 pm I'm in bed. 

I tried all afternoon to text Spirit that I'll be late but cannot get a strong enough signal. 

It looks to be a cold night.

Falling: Green Corner Road

I took a late start, letting the body rest from yesterday. The rain didn't encourage me to get out either.

Eventually I set off.  Only 1.0 mile up the trail I slipped on a wet rock while crossing a creek and crashed on my shin. Ouch. I got the poles anchored and stood back up. The right shin hurt like heck but didn't change when I put weight on it so nothing seemed broken or chipped, and I hobbled across the creek. There was already a set of knots raised a half inch along four inches of shin. Oops. As I debated whether my day was over a few other hikers reached the stream and just gazelled the 4.5 feet from bank to bank without even touching the wet rocks. A much better idea!

Since I had just left Spirit and the stream was next to Green Corner Road, I decided to bail. Within minutes I had my leg elevated with a compression ice wrap. By evening the swelling was already coming down.

Rack up one mile for today. For the first time my daily average miles is now under 20 miles, at 249.6 miles in 13 hiking days.

A Magnificent Mistake: Pigeon River

Oops. When we hurriedly extended the resupply from Newfound Gap another two days to Davenport Gap to allow for an RV repair, I didn't get all of the AWOL guide book pages. 

I like to know a couple of landmarks ahead, such as streams or trail junctions, so that I can follow along with my watch to make sure everything lines up right. The technique is called dead reckoning and is my main tool in staying found. I am not yet fully in the habit of just watching for the white blazes to confirm the route. Without the final page, I was not able to track the trail features and I guess I got sloppy. I ended up going down the Snake Den Ridge trail 5 miles, dropping from 6000 feet to 2800. 

This turned out to be the highlight of the Smokey Mountains.

Smokies: Pecks Corner Shelter

The trail entered fir and spruce this morning as we got higher and the mountain is more moist.  The forest floor changes from soft leaves and rich brown soil to acid needles. Much darker than the bare trees below, moss grows on rocks and fallen trees. 

Very recent trail maintenance cleared the winter branches and fallen trees off of the trail.  I think to myself that the crew couldn't be more than a week ahead so earlier hikers had to crawl over and under the deadfall.  Sure enough, it is not yet cut past Newfound Gap and I am soon scampering through myself. 

A heavy misty fog clouds the views all morning including Clingmans Dome, the fabled highest point in the Appalachian Trail. Regardless everyone is upbeat. They now have their trail legs.  I am no longer the first on trail in the morning, nor the fastest, nor the last off, but I get 21.2 miles today.

Slow Miles: Double Spring Gap Shelter

Is it just me or is it the trail? I can't break 2.0 mph all day. The trail is steep and the footing is rocky. I'm sure it must just be a slow stretch of trail. I work hard for 19.2 miles and again tent near a shelter. 

Oaks give way to birch up higher,  with more colorful leaves that only dropped recently.  The trail bed is fluffy with fresh leaves. 

Entering the Smokies: Mollies Ridge Shelter

Welcome back to the trail. Not feeling any hurry, I take my time looking around Fontana Dam and chatting with people and finally enter Great Smokey Mountain National Park around 2:30 pm. The climb upwards is slow but I get treated to areas of amazing floral carpet. Just inches high, scads of tiny white flowers with pink veins cover the ground under the oak trees. 

In the park hikers must stay in or next to a shelter, so I pull into Mollies Ridge Shelter and pitch my tent. This is the first time I have camped at a shelter, but I arrive late and the ongoing conversations are within well-formed groups so I head to bed. 

Buddies and gear

Had a wonderful day off-trail visiting Wildcat, a hiking buddy and great human being. You meet amazing people on the trail, and Wildcat is one of the best.

We tuned up the gear, including waterproofing a rain coat, cleaning and repairing hiking poles, repairing worn pack fabric and replacing a belt buckle. I used the same gear on the Pacific Crest Trail and Continental Divide Trail, and now the Appalachian Trail. 

Somehow it is satisfying for the same setup to make it through the full Triple Crown. Maybe I'm just cheap, or like the familiarity, but I think the satisfaction relates more to seeing ultra light gear last that many miles. Ironically most retail gear is much more rugged (and heavy) but is used only a few times a year. Kudos to companies like ULA, Western Mountaineering and TarpTent that find that sweet spot with ultra light durability.

Buddies are like gear. Select for high quality, give care when needed, and you have a durable friendship.

Big Miles: Fontana

With 150 miles behind them everyone is getting their hiking legs.  Many hikers now match my pace, so I get more frequent conversations while hiking. I'd been hiking alone so far, so some company is nice. Their daily miles are growing as they also are starting on the trail earlier each day. Perhaps soon I'll be seeing familiar faces for multiple days or weeks instead of just passing them once.

Tomorrow I'll visit Wildcat, a hiking buddy from the Continental Divide Trail. I'm really looking forward to it. A few days ago I hoped I'd reach Fontana late Saturday so I could take a full zero on Sunday, but abbreviated miles on Thursday in anticipation of the thunderstorm leaves 47.3 miles, just too many miles for the remaining two days. Or is two 24s just barely possible?  

Then on Friday slow muddy trails and an afternoon break to dry gear leaves 27.3 miles to Fontana today. Too many miles. Way too many. Almost certainly. Almost. 

The miles out of NOC are not easy. The trail climbs 2961 feet in 5.8 miles (10%), then grants a short breather before climbing Cheoah Bald, another 662 feet in 1.2 miles.  I still can't quite give up on reaching Fontana today, but after lunch I still have 19.4 miles to go!  These are the biggest hill climbs yet. Big miles too? Crazy! I do the math and estimate an arrival time of 10-11pm. I decide to push and see how it develops. 

At Stecoah Gap a previous hiker is celebrating his birthday by providing a huge feast for thru hikers. The good food and comradery is too much to pass up. Time ticks away while I eat and chat. I leave at 4 pm with 13.9 miles to go. No way to reach Fontana now. But there are only a couple more climbs and then maybe I can kick a super fast pace the rest of the way? 

I maintain 2 mph climbing Jacob's ladder, ascending 618 feet in just 0.6 miles. I feel good. I change my socks and bandage a sore shin. I getting ready for a long night. At 5 pm 11.5 miles remain. And I think I can somehow add that to the 16 miles I've already done today? 

I want to use all of the daylight I can. I am flying at 3 mph. Then lousy footing and rubble conspire to slow me to a crawl. 

Dark sets in and I have 4 miles to go. Should I make camp? It takes an hour to cook, eat, pitch the tent and hang the bear bag. In only two hours I could be in Fontana. There is no moon. I am very dependent on my flashlight but I have backup. I keep going. 

The trail is generally easy to follow in the dark. I think to myself that navigating the Appalachian Trail at night is about as hard as navigating the Continental Divide Trail during the day. Then I encounter rocky outcroppings and have to search hard for the trail. Time ticks on. 

The miles count down. A trail crossing at 2.6. A foot bridge at 2.0. The final stretch of switchbacks descending to the highway take forever. 

At 10 pm I arrive in Fontana. But Spirit is not at the highway crossing. With no cell phone signal I have to assume she is at the dam. Another 1.4 miles. My feet hurt but I take off again. A few tenths of a mile before the dam we meet up when the trail parallels the road and she is driving by looking for me. 

It's over. I'm here. 28.4 miles. Whew. Long day. Tomorrow I get a full zero with Wildcat. 

When I come back to the trail on Monday I should see familiar faces to hike with. And no more crazy 28 mile days. Promise. 

Lightning: Nantahala

First forecast for days ago, the upcoming storm had been an active topic of conversation on the trail for many days giving people time to make plans. Many who had endured the bitter ice storm on April 3-4 choose to head to trail towns. Hotels and hostels were full. But many chose to stay in the mountains, especially when the forecast on Thursday didn't seem so bad. Accuweather predicted just two short periods of rain during the night, totaling 0.12 inches, with occasional thunderstorms. Accuweather was wrong. 

The storm delivered its full fury. Fortunately it was not cold, but the wind and rain were intense.

Lightning flared in the clouds every few seconds for several hours. Wind howled so loud I couldn't distinguish it from thunder. The rain on the tent wasn't the familiar sound of rain drops but instead the constant roar of a hose. 

I've been too close to lightning on hikes before, watching it ricochet off rock walls and smelling the ozone while crouched in the safety position. I had no interest in climbing high tonight. I camped low, in a protected area. 

Just after dark a hiker passed, headed to the next shelter, 4.5 miles and two balds away. I tried to convince him to stop since in this weather and dark it could take an hour per mile, a very long time to be exposed. 

Fortunately the lightning was all in high altitude clouds. There were no land strikes. But with the howling wind and pouring rain I was happy to be in my tent. 

I have just a TarpTent, a single silnylon tarp. Both the head and feet are open except for mosquito net, and the sides are a few inches of the ground. There is no floor.  In a heavy rain water splashes in from all sides and I retreat to the center. With wind the rain blows through the net. 

A little beak is Velcroed to the top front of the tent to reduce some of the wind blown rain. Last night the wind was too strong for the Velcro and the beak flapped in the wind. Rain drove through the net door, soaking the head of my down sleeping bag. 

In the morning I found the hiker who had gone on. He safely reached the shelter at 12:30 am after a harrowing night, and vowed not to try that again. On the other hand sometimes the worst days are also the best days and he also really enjoyed the challenge. 

With a late start, waiting for the rain to stop, and a break mid-afternoon to dry gear in the sun, I made 21.3 miles today. 

Wayah Meadow

My town days are wonderful. Town comes to me.

Spirit (Fran) paddled the 700 miles between Key West and St Marks, but cannot hike. Instead she met me at the trailhead on US 64 in our little RV.  

I grab a hot shower, hot meal, two mugs of hot chocolate, clean clothes, four days of food and fuel, and recharge the phone battery, do an hour of blogging and emails, and get a hug goodbye.

Yep, she preps my food bags and has a fresh stack of clean clothes waiting, and cooks a meal while I'm there. Wow!  Am I about the luckiest hiker out there? I hear Buzz and Izzy saying "She's too good to you. You don't deserve her". True enough.

There is a practical side to it. I'm guessing that I save about ten days overall by not having to go into towns. That means ten fewer snow days in Nova Scotia!  Paired with long hiking days, that's just about my whole plan on how I can keep going another 850 miles after the Appalachian Trail ends.

Even with my town day, I made 14.5 miles. Actually I stopped an hour early to avoid an exposed ridge since thunderstorms are forecast, and sure enough I hear the first bangs as I write this, safe and dry in my tent. 

Moving: Long Branch

There are some inspiring people out here. Two older guys hiking with titanium rods in their backs. Tinman with a reconstructed leg. Cat Lady traveling and hiking after graduation. A very overweight guy 15 pounds lighter on day ten. Several Eagle Scouts. I am always impressed by the people on the long trails.

The trail route is easy to predict.  Look for the tallest close peak in ay direction except south. East or West are fine. That's where the trail is going. Climbing every bump and walking the ridges down through the gaps, the views across the rolling mountains remain spectacular.  Increasingly rhododendron patches form green tunnels.  Some are huge, 18 to 20 feet tall. The flower buds are sparse and small, but leaf buds are starting to open as Spring arrives for them and the wildflowers. But the stately Oaks remain asleep.

I'm working pretty hard, pushing up the hills, logging about eleven hours of actual hiking. On the PCT, that would yield 28 miles. Here, working harder, yesterday was 22.5 and today was 25.7. I'm eating like I never have before, even more than as a teenager on sports teams. This morning I ate three breakfasts and yesterday I had two lunches. Whenever the grade levels out I gorge on nuts and raisons. I met Spirit mid-day and had a snack of five eggs, toast and sweet potato tots. I'm carrying lots of extra food to keep shoving in!

My jumpy legs are acting up at night. I take magnesium, but the bouncing keeps me awake a couple of hours, robbing the sleep I really need pushing this hard.

Miles and Bears: Rich Cove Gap

Bear bags have become a challenge.  The Forest Service closed the section below Neels Gap due to a bear that knows how to get the bags down. But last night a hiker above Neels Gap had his bag yanked down, as did a weekend hiker and his son the night before. It looks like this smart bear just shifted north to continue marauding. I hear that another bear near Bly Gap knocks down bags too.

I had trouble hanging my bear bag tonight. The rope is just a bit too short to hang easily alone. Tomorrow I get a longer rope. 

For the past several days I have been hiking just about as hard as I can.  Today was 22.5 miles, most of it climbing or descending. For this type of trail and number of hours of daylight, that is about as good as it is going to get. 

The other challenge for keeping a strong pace is the rocky footing, especially downhill.  Yesterday I fell once, rolled an ankle twice, and bent a knee backward. That's when I was going very slowly. 

Is the pace I kept on the other hikes unrealistic here? 

The Rest Step: Rocky Mountain

Today was a milestone day - the first day that I didn't have an elastic bandage on. No wrapped knees, shins or ankles.  Other than a few taped up blisters I'm pretty good. 

I'm doing great on the gentle sections. But it turns out there are steep parts too. 

For ascents there is a really cool technique called a Rest Step. When you step forward you quickly get completely over your foot and straighten it up. It gets to rest while the next leg steps forward. Works great at least on moderate slopes.

But my muscles are conditioned for flat land. In southern Georgia a big hill was 50 feet high. 

I step up on steeper slopes and the thigh muscles strain to lift me up. Instead of chiseled legs, I have the muscle definition of a Bassett Hound. Apparently the maximus gluteus is also supposed to join in, but my Buns of Butter abstain.

I push hard and the thigh lifts me. I take another step and the heat singes the hair off leg. I let up before I melt my nylon hiking shorts.

I have invented a new step, the Resting Shuffle. First you hunch way forward so that your face looks straight down. Then you lean onto your hiking poles and shuffle one foot forward. The Rest comes from putting your entire weight onto the poles, at least until they collapse. 

I imagine the conversation when the first hiker sees my new step.  "Does your family know you are out here? Should I call someone?" If I tell them I hiked 22 miles today,  "Yikes dementia too! He's even older than he looks." So far the Resting Shuffle is my little secret. 

Barren Mountains: Neel Gap

Spring has not yet come to the trail.

Just two days ago we were surrounded by cherry blossoms and daffodils in Gibbs Garden. Just a week further south azaleas as tall as me were clothed in red, flowering trees were in pink and white, and the red maple flowers flowed with nectar for the honeybees.

But here the trees are bare, even looking dead. A few small green hollies and pines break the feel. But the thick mat of oak leaves underfoot foreshadows what lies ahead, and a few tiny wildflowers poke through.

Near mountains look sharp and barren. Behind those the next soften and take a hint of blue. Row after row as far as I can see the mountains keep going, becoming smokier in the far haze. There are no signs of humans except the trail I walk on. 

The mountains are not tall, but the trail is steep, more so than on the other long trails. Blisters form on my toes during the downhills. My appetite is in full swing now and I eat ravenously. Trail Angels at road crossings have food and I supplement with cookies and bananas but I still break into my extra food and have two lunches. The machine is working hard and I just keep stoking the fire for 21.2 miles.

I Feel Good: Horse Gap

The cold wet weather passed and today was excellent for hiking.

In areas of complete silence, with views out to unbroken hills, I hike alone and remember what it is to feel alive. I skip past hikers and families, preferring the solitude even on this busy trail. Some ask how far I plan to hike and I tell them, but I don't engage in conversation. Many are taking breaks but I choose not to join.  For now at least I am glad to be back on the trail. More social time may come later. 

I am unsure how many daily miles to plan for.  Most veteran hikers caution that miles are harder on the AT than on the other trails. The Amicalola approach trail begins with 604 stairs and just keeps climbing.  Most hikers just make 6-8 miles the first few days; the longest I heard of was 12. Most looked well prepared, though sadly a few packs were enormous. 

I am very fortunate to have had the conditioning hike. Day one is 19.3 miles; I'm sore and tired but that is a very good start. 

1000 miles

I am crossing 1000 miles right now. That should be pretty exciting. I've been counting down the miles for a few days. 

But I'm not feeling much. It's just an arbitrary number as I walk past country clubs on a busy four lane boulevard. Connecting the footsteps between kayaking and the Appalachian Trail is important to me, but I never expected much of it. It connects, and got me into hiking condition, which is all I asked. I am in shape and just 50 miles from the AT.

The memorable moments were the stops along the way.

• Seeing an oldtimer's eyes light up as he talked about growing up with Jackie Robinson.
• Hearing stories at small town shops, cafes, and city halls.
• Feeling images at the Civil Rights museum in Albany GA pierce my heart while also inspiring me. H
• earing the origin story of Habitat for Humanity and recognizing the different building styles that they have adapted to around the world.  
• Listening to Jimmy Carter teach Sunday school in Plains GA on Palm Sunday, a humble man guided by his faith giving some of clearest interpretations I have heard of familiar scriptures. 
• Devouring a sumptuous sweet potato pie.
• Seeing the laser light show at Stone Mountain, and getting a glimpse of a proud Southern heritage.
• Exploring the Carter Center and marvelling that a couple can do so much to benefit so many people, including the likely eradication of the wretched guinea worm disease.
• Experiencing the Martin Luther King center, reading every word, watching every video, studying every photo.
• Sitting in MLK's Ebenezer Baptist Church on Easter Sunday.

Absorbing. Learning.

That's what the connector hike has been about. And the number 1000 doesn't mean much in comparison.