Appalachian Trail - 2014

Appalachian Trail 

May 2014

 

Having gone 8 months without a substantial break from work I was feeling the weight of everyday responsibilities and duties.  Not wanting to undertake such an adventure as would be necessary to entice my regular hiking companions to join me, I took advantage of a business trip to Atlanta to attempt my first solo hike at the beginning of the Appalachian Trail on top of Springer Mountain in northern Georgia.  In addition to some time of solitude and rejuvenation, I would also experience solo hiking and the AT, perhaps establishing the feasibility of a new life-list goal to hike in its entirety a long trail.

At the Start

While I have been involved in planning our recent hikes, a solo hike takes planning to another level.  A major disadvantage is the inability to blame any wrong turns or other similarly unfortunate incidents on my hiking buddies, not that I’ve ever done that or even would think of such a thing.  A major advantage is not having to admit to any wrong turns or other similar unfortunate incidents as no one else will ever know what really happened, assuming you make it out alive.  In addition to carrying all the shared equipment, I needed to acquire much of the equipment that my hiking buddies always supplied.  Having successfully completed an overnight trip at a local state forest, I made a few adjustments, tweaked my pack weight and headed for the trail!

Day 1:  Wednesday, May 21^st

After my morning meeting in Atlanta, I headed north to Amicalola Falls State Park, site of the approach trail to the start of the Appalachian Trail, or AT as it is commonly known.  The approach trail is analogous to having a pre-meeting meeting in business.  Just as you don’t really want to jump right into a meeting, you don’t want to jump right on the AT.  I would have thought the state park would make an excellent starting point for the AT, but what do I know?  So instead, there is a 7.3 to 8.8 mile (depending on what source you believe) approach trail which looks a lot like the AT except that it isn’t.  It also isn’t marked by the famed white blazes, being relegated to the lowly blue blazes.

 

The official start to the Approach Trail

Arriving at the park around 2:30 after a stop for supplies at an Atlanta REI, I parked and registered my car at the park headquarters, signed the AT trail registry, filled my Camelback and promptly took a wrong turn heading on the trail to the approach trail (kind of like a pre-pre-meeting).  I quickly realized my mistake and heading to the start of the approach trail, officially starting my hike at 3:30.  The goal was the Black Gap Shelter about 1.4 miles before Springer Mountain.  The trail begins with a leisurely stroll through the park until you come to the Amicalola Falls, which at 729 feet is the tallest cascading waterfall in the southeast part of the US.  Ascending the falls is an exercise in lung capacity.  There’s nothing like starting a multi-day hike with a lung-busting, sweat-soaked climb.  There are 900 steps up wooden platforms over the course of about 3/10 of a mile.  Once you reach the top of that, it levels out considerably.  I had been advised to take a side trail which was a green-blazed trail that went past the Len Foote Hike Inn.  I was told it was easier and a mile shorter.  It seemed neither, but I followed what I had been told.  Further subsequent research has verified the easier part, but some sources state that it is 1.7 miles longer, which is quite believable.

Amicalola Falls

I came across the Len Foote Hike Inn about 5 miles into the alternate route hike.  It is a rustic inn built largely on poles offering a dry, clean bed in the middle of the wilderness.  If I ever migrate to day-hiker status, this would be on my list of spots to stay at.  As I was hiking past, I met one of the staff coming toward the inn.  We chatted for a while and I picked up some good information.  He had done the entire AT in previous years and had a lot of experience in the immediate area.  When I asked about the Black Gap shelter where I was heading that evening, he stated, “I’ve hiked the whole trail and have stayed in a lot of shelters.  That shelter is the most rodent-infested shelter on the entire trail!”  Having stayed in a rodent-infested shelter in the Smokies, I appreciated the warning.  It didn’t change my actions, but did prepare me mentally for what I would find.  Shortly after I rejoined the official Approach trail, I hiked into a small clearing in time to see a black bear running for shelter.  It was about 100 feet away, but was moving fast so I did not get a chance to get much of view of it.
 

I arrived at Black Gap Shelter at 7:30, having covered probably 9 miles in 4 hours, a good pace considering the elevation gain and heat of the day.  The shelter was a typical three-sided shelter with a raised wood floor about 10 feet deep and 20 feet wide.  Some distance behind the shelter was the latrine, a standard feature of the campgrounds with shelters.  This particular shelter did not have immediate access to water, although I did pass a spot marked as water some distance before, but it was a ways off the trail.  Anticipating this at the start of the trail, I had loaded up with enough water to last until the next morning.  This increased my pack weight from 23 lbs to almost 30 lbs.  This was still one of the lighter packs I have carried due to a concerted effort to reduce weight made easier by the warmer temperatures.  I did carry a complete change of clothes, but was able to forgo most of the layers that I normally carry.  My new pack and lightweight tent (1 lb) coupled with only 4 days of food helped immensely.

Black Gap Shelter and the boys from Ohio

As I approached the shelter, I saw that I would not be alone.  Since I was doing this part of the trail at the end of May, I did not expect to come across anyone attempting a through hike.  I can only imagine what it must be like at the peak of the season in April as an estimated 1,800 people attempt the northbound route each year, most dropping out over the first couple of weeks due to injury, discouragement or lack of preparation.  Starting on a Wednesday as I was would also tend to lessen the chances of being with others, but lo and behold, there were three hikers in the shelter when I arrived.

Hoping that seeing me was not a disappointment, I asked if they had room for one more.  Of course the standard answer to that question is that there is always room for one more, and they welcomed me to barge in on their little party.  Andrew, Wes and Greg were from Columbus, Ohio.  Andrew had some experience hiking and was hoping to catch up with a buddy who had started earlier and complete the entire trail this year.  Wes was another friend, less experienced, but enthusiastic who wanted to complete the trail as well.  Greg, Wes’s brother, was a former cop on disability who was doing just the start of the trail.  While very enthusiastic, they were a bit short on planning.  They had done the same route I had, but had started in the morning.  And they were exhausted.  Another hiker I met later related that he had passed the shelter somewhat earlier and had seen some of them tending a large fire.  It seems they realized they brought way too much stuff along, so they were burning their excess clothes.  The two brothers were pretty big guys, not what you would expect from your typical backpackers.  They were initially hoping to do 8 miles a day.  Doing a little math, 2,184 divided by 8 gets you about 273 days, which isn’t going to work in one year since the trail is only open about 7 months.  But, stranger things have happened, and maybe they were able to pick up their pace after Greg left.  I’m not holding my breath, however.

Another hiker that I had seen at the Falls park station was camping in our area, but chose not to stay in the shelter.  He was an interesting fellow:  ponytail, graying hair, hammock and kilt.  It was quite a combination.  He was from the area, and was only planning on a couple of days on the trail.  He had a lot of knowledge about the area and hiking which he freely imparted, but the whole kilt thing was a little disturbing and interfered with the messages being received.

Having arrived so late, it was getting dark as I finished supper.  Wes and Greg embarked on a conversation about snoring, sharing that they were either confirmed snorers or habitual CPAP users.  I noticed that Andrew had positioned himself to be as far away from them as possible, leaving the open spot for me to fill between him and the two brothers.  I was not overly concerned because I was prepared for this.  Even though, thankfully, I have never hiked with snorers (non-snoring being a major section of the secret “Application to Hike with Bruce, Tom & Jeff” form), for this trip, I was carrying my earplugs.  And not just any earplugs.  These were industrial strength earplugs from my days in manufacturing.  I was very confident that I would have no problem.

We had discussed the rodent issue as I related my conversation from the Hike Inn caretaker.  We had spotted a dead mouse by the shelter which seemed to confirm the accuracy of that conversation.  Wes seemed a little concerned, but didn’t say a whole lot.  As it got dark, we rolled out our sleeping bags and climbed in.  About 5 minutes later, a light snapped on and there was a huge WHAM, WHAM, WHAM as Wes attempted to pulverizing the alleged offending rodent with his hiking boot.  Evidently he missed as there were no pulverized mouse remains, but neither the alleged mouse nor Wes was discouraged from trying again.  And again.  And  again.  Finally after his brother Greg chewed him out as only an older brother can do, he gave up on that endeavor.  Andrew remained strangely silent.

Based on the discussion earlier in the evening, I had decided to go ahead and start out the night with the earplugs in.  As a side note, having or not having earplugs makes no difference regarding light and heavy pounding on the floorboards of the shelter.  As I was settling in and beginning to drop off to sleep, Greg fell asleep.  And commenced snoring.  Now there are many types of snoring.  Many people give an occasional snort.  Some have kind of a nasally whine.  But Greg was….well, let’s just say I didn’t know I was spending the night in a shelter with Chainsaw Willy!  I think the whole shelter was shaking.  And those industrial-strength earplugs?  They may keep out the sound of a 600-ton stamping press, but they had met their match here.  About 11:30 I began contemplating setting up my tent somewhere far away.  But, I persevered and sometime around 3:00 I fell asleep.

The next morning there were several sharp accusations thrown followed by heartfelt denials between the two brothers about the decibel level in the shelter that previous night.  Wes started by accusing Greg of snoring for hours.  Greg denied that and threw back at Wes that he (Greg) had woken up around 3:00 and then couldn’t get back to sleep because Wes was snoring.  Hmmm.  3:00.  What a coincidence.  Finally, they turned to me to settle the argument, but I politely declined to say much more than that I had heard some snoring during the night.  I was very thankful that they were only doing 8 miles a day, so I would never see them again.  Throughout all of this, Andrew was strangely quiet.  I think he wanted to ditch his buddies and hike with me instead.

Day 1:  9.0 miles on Approach Trail

Day 2:  Thursday, May 22^nd

Southern Terminus of the Appalachian Trail

Feeling very tired, but anxious to move on, I hit the trail at 7:30.  One advantage of backpacking in May is the length of the day.  Our normal September timeframe means there is about 13 hours of daylight.  The length of the days at the end of May more closely matches the amount of active time and helps when you are doing a hike for distance as I was.  A mile and a half down the trail, I reached the top of Springer Mountain and the official Southern Terminus of the Appalachian Trail.  Thus began my quest of following the white blazes to lead me to my destination.  Springer Mountain, at 3,782 feet is not overly impressive and is covered with woods, as are most of the mountains in this area.  There is a nice look-out, but nothing spectacular.  Hiking the AT is all about the experience and the people.  The scenery is nice in some places, but pales in comparison with the elite trails in the national park system.  It’s a huge accomplishment to hike the whole trail, but if you are doing it for photo opportunities, you are doing a lot of hiking for little reward.

The first White Blaze of the trail

Shortly after summiting the mountain, I stopped at the Springer Mountain Shelter to get water.  I didn’t anticipate the great distance from the trail to the water source which added a couple of tenths of a mile to my hike.  When I got to the source, a very small stream, I pulled out my new water filter and started pumping.  As you may remember from previous adventures, my experience with water filters has been rather dismal lately.  Two trips ago the filter ended up getting broken, which caused me to get a new filter which I promptly lost on my last major trip.  For this trip, I had purchased an MSR Microfilter instead of the Katadin filters that had met with premature and untimely demises.  It was a little more expensive and needed to be backflushed every 8 liters, but it was 6 ounces lighter.  I had read some puzzling on-line reviews.  Several people had problems getting it to work, but others claimed they must not have been doing it correctly.  I had tried it out before the trip and everything seemed to work fine while at the kitchen sink.

The view from Springer Mountain

I unpacked the filter, hooked it up to my Camelback and began pumping.  Well, I kind of began pumping.  I mean, I was trying to pump.  It seemed to be not working.  Not wanting to panic quite yet, I checked to make sure I had the rubber flanges set properly and tried it again.  Still nothing.  Fighting the rising panic of starting a four day trip without a water filter, I decided I must have reversed the two flanges when I was testing the backflush operations.  So I reversed them again, re-assembled the filter and started pumping.  Nothing.  Now I’m really sweating.  Finally after several unsuccessful iterations and attempts I figured out that both flanges needed to be pointed in the same direction to either pump or backflush.  Evidently when I had finished my test some weeks earlier, I had reversed one of the flanges, and since all my attempts of switching them had consisted of changes both flanges at the same time, I never caught my mistake until sheer desperation set in and I started trying anything and everything.  So, I wasted about a half hour, but did get the water filtered successfully.  Operating on very little sleep probably didn’t help either.  So having successfully identified the true cause of my problem as my new Ohio friends, I packed up my filter and headed back to the trail.

A Peaceful Creek

The weather was beautiful with not a cloud in the sky.  It was warmer than most of my previous trips with highs in the 70’s and lows in the 50’s.  Some of the other hikers used light-weight quilts instead of sleeping bags.  If I were doing a longer hike, I would be tempted to follow that route.  My bag was way too warm.  Most nights I didn’t zip it at all, and I was still too warm in spite of wearing minimal clothing.  However, I really like the bag/air mattress combination that I have so the mild inconvenience is worth it.  It is, however, the only time I have ever stuck to my bag as a result of beings sweaty and sticky all night long.  Not a highly recommended experience.

Soon after continuing down the trail, I caught up with my pony-tailed friend and commended him on his wise choice of staying in his hammock rather than the shelter.  He gave me a knowing nod and commented unprompted on the hazards of staying in the shelters and snoring.   Perhaps he had shared in my misery the previous night in spite of being hundreds of feet away.

Long Creek Falls

A few miles down the trail just down a side trail is Long Creek Falls, a very nice waterfall, highly recommended by several knowledgeable sources.  This was one of the most scenic parts of the trip and definitely worth the side trip.  Of course, being a waterfall aficionado, any side trip to see a waterfall qualifies as worth it.

After a hefty 9 mile morning, I stopped at Hawk Mountain Shelter for lunch and water.  Hiking in warmer temperatures drastically increased my water consumption.  In the past, a full camelback would easily last a whole day.  Now I was using 2 liters in a half of a day.  Granted, I was also doing a lot more miles, which was increasing my workout.

Several others had stopped at the shelter for lunch as well, including two women who were thinking of spending the night there, my pony-tailed friend from the first night, and a young man who had worked with the AT club of Maine the prior summer.  I warned the women that this was the planned destination of my companions of the previous night and my friend backed up my warning with some additional details.  Alas, they seemed to regard my warnings as fairy tales, unconcerned about the potential sleepness night they would soon experience.  Having done my duty, I headed down the trail to the next shelter, knowing they would become wiser (and more tired) as a result of their foolish decision.  In fairness to them, it was a very nice shelter and the next one was a ways down the trail.  Sometimes you just need to tough it out, though.

The plush Gooch Mountain Shelter

After a long afternoon of elevation gains and losses, I stumbled into Gooch Mountain Shelter at 6:30 after 17.3 miles, the longest day of hiking I had ever had.  The shelter was the nicest I saw on the trail with a loft and a lean-to area with a picnic table.  As such, it was heavily populated.  As I entered the area, the group eating around the picnic table welcomed me.  Thoroughly exhausted and operating on little sleep, I had but one question for them:  Did any of them snore?  A couple of them confessed to occasional episode, but no chronic offenders came forward.  Not that it would have mattered.  Regardless of my surroundings, I was going to get some sleep that night.  The group included an older gentleman with his 25 year old son, a talkative retired guy who had used my shuttle driver to get here, a quiet older man who I later came to know as Deacon and another younger guy who seemed to know some of the others, but was not with them.  It was a very genial group enjoying the setting.  The talkative retired guy had a hammock tent, which he showed to me.  It is an interesting concept and certainly has some major advantages over the traditional tent, but I’m not sold on it yet.  With several older men, the talk inevitably turned to health issues and the trail.  Mr. Hammock-Tent expressed dismay about only being able to do 8 miles a day.  The others were doing similar distances.  Someday, I thought, that will be me.

Hanging the food bags to protect from Bears and rodents.

There were two other groups at the campground as well, but they had set up their tents and were not hanging around the shelter.  In total there were about a dozen people there.  With evening drawing on, I quickly made my supper, a Mountain House meal that supposedly contained 2.5 servings.  It was delicious, but about half a serving too much.  After that, I visited the creek and was able to sponge off and wash out my shirt, which was quite rank with all the sweating I had been doing.  It wasn’t much of a cleaning, but with the sun going down and the temperature dropping I didn’t want to take the chance of not being able to dry out before I hit the sack, which was sounding really good about then.  With the large number of people in the campground, all the cables on the bear bag system were full.  I had to improvise.  Tom would have been proud of me.  I secured my food bag in the middle of the cable on the first try!  Back at the shelter, the father-son combination claimed the loft, leaving Deacon and me to the lower part.  A thru-hiker rolled in about that time.  Kerry was a retired reporter from Madison, WI carrying a NY Times with him.  All in all, this was what I had expected a night on the AT to be.  The stresses of the civilized world were slowly vanishing away.

This shelter did not appear to have the rodent problem of the previous shelter.  One of the guys had seen a large black snake around the campground which would explain the lack of rodents.  While not a fan of snakes, I figured it was less likely that the snake would make it up into the shelter and crawl in my sleeping bag.  As I lay down, I heard rustling in the leaves under the floor of the shelter.  I’m sure it was a squirrel.  I didn’t feel like investigating.  There are some things we are better off not knowing.  I’m sure it was a squirrel.  It seems that my quick sponge bath, while cleaning off a layer of sweat and dirt, didn’t completely get the job done.  I was once again sticking to my sleeping bag.  And I was still hot.  Were I not in love with the sleep system, I would have brought a lighter sleeping bag for more comfortable nights.  However, that would have been only a slight improvement plus I would have slid around on my sleeping pad.  At this point, I realized another problem with staying in a shelter in a populated campsite.  You go to bed when the last person goes to bed, and you wake up when the first person wakes up!  But if you are tired enough, it really doesn’t matter.

Day 2:  17.3 miles, 26.3 cumulative

Day 3: Friday, May 23^rd

Deacon rolled out early.  Like really early.  He was up and gone before the sun was up which is quite a feat at this time of year.  I got what I considered a good start, leaving at 7:45.  It was going to be another long day.  Because of alleged bear activity in the spring, there is a ban on camping without a bear canister from Jarrod Gap to Neel Gap, a 5 mile stretch that includes two shelters.  This had caused me to change my original plans extending this day and shrinking the following day.

Typical outlook over the mountains.

The weather was beautiful again, although still a little warm for backpacking.  Part of Deacon’s strategy was to start early before the sun was up to maximize the miles traveled during the cooler part of the day.  There is a lot to be said for that.  I discovered that I really should have finished the last half serving of the meal the previous night.  I had sealed the package with some food remaining in it the previous night, but it was now leaking in my pack.  I was very happy to find a garbage can 5 miles down the trail at Woody Gap.  My attempts at cleaning the mess I had made were semi-successful, but made for another lesson learned.

I stopped at Jarrod Gap Trail for lunch in the early afternoon, having done 11 miles.  A mile and a half later I met some other hikers who had stopped for lunch.  After exchanging pleasantries, I continued down the trail.  For some strange reason, even though I was approaching a mountain, the trail was not going up.  After about a half mile, I realized that I had not seen any white blazes for quite a while.  My worst fears were realized as I came across a blue blaze.  One of my greatest concerns about solo hiking was getting lost.  And not having anyone else to blame.  Although probably not life-threatening in this area, it is a serious hazard when your map reading skills are as poor as mine are.  I quickly turned around, retracing my steps to the point I had met the other hikers.  It turns out that the AT continues up through some rocks where they were sitting, while I had gone down the adjoining Slaughter Creek Trail.  Being distracted by the other hikers, I hadn’t seen where the AT was heading.  They commented that they thought I might have been going the wrong way, but who were they to correct me?  Having re-oriented myself, I headed back up the correct trail.

Blood Mountain Shelter

Up was the operative word here.  I was climbing Blood Mountain, the highest point on the AT in Georgia topping out at 4,450 feet.  Blood Mountain was the site of a major battle between two groups of Indians several centuries before.  It is also the site of the only 4-sided shelter on the AT, an ancient stone hut at the summit.  Had the bear canister ban not been in effect, I would have planned on stopping here for the night.  In some ways it is fortunate that the ban was in place.  Because it is the top of the mountain, there is no easily accessible source of water.  The mountain is also a hotbed of day-hiking activity, being close to a road and having a good view of the surrounding area.  The top of the mountain was rock causes the blazes to switch from trees to the portion of the rock cleared to make the trail.  While the views were grand, it was not the most hospitable part of the trail.  I left it behind, descending to Neel Gap, two and half miles and 1,300 feet below the summit.

Neel Gap is a major stop on the AT.  The Walasi-yi Center is there, a hostel and well-known re-supply point.  In my opinion it was a bit early to be re-supplying since it was only 40 miles from Amicalola Falls State Park, but I suppose if you are only doing 10 miles a day, it would be four days.  Plus, the next natural resupply spot is quite a ways down the trail.  Neel Gap is also the only place on the trail where the AT goes through a building.  As I approached, there were quite a few hikers out and about.  After all, this was the Friday of Memorial Day weekend.  One thru hiker was going through the box of supplies he had mailed there earlier.  With long dreadlocks and a rather vacant stare, he fit the vision of the typical lost young man trying to find himself on the trail.  He had also sent way too much food and was endeavoring to pawn the excess off on anyone who would take it.  Since I generally don’t eat enough of my own food, I declined his offer, continuing down the trail, which now turned up.

The weather had begun to turn cloudy.  My goal for the night was a primitive campsite at Bull Gap, about a mile (and 500 feet up) from Neel Gap.  There were some others heading the same direction.  We talked about sharing the campground amid a bit of rumbling from the skies.  They were a bit slower so I left them behind with the promise to meet at the campground.  Before long, I reached a clearing with a tent set up, but no sign of being an official campground.  I was looking for a marker, similar to the other primitive campgrounds I had passed over the past couple of days.  The couple at the clearing thought the campground was about ½ mile further, which made sense to me.  I soldiered on.  About this time it began to rain.  I debated whether to stop to get out my pack cover and rain gear.  Since I was so close to my destination, I decided to continue on.  Since it was warm, it was not an unpleasant rain, but still distracting.  After a while, I realized I had been going downhill, which I should not have done based my map.  Certainly I couldn’t have missed the camp?  Yet here I was quite a ways past the mountaintop.  According to the map, the next official site was two miles ahead.  However, if I went to that site, my short day the next day would be even shorter.  Plus I didn’t want the other hikers to be worried about me if I failed to show up at the previously agreed to site.  So, in spite of not wanting to backtrack, I turned around to find the campground I had missed.  The rain had subsided, so I would not be distracted by that.  I climbed back up the mountain and started the descent, arriving back at the clearing!  This was very confusing.  There was no way I could have missed the campground twice.  Yet there was no marking here and I hadn’t seen the other hikers that I expected to see there.  But, at some point you just have to make camp.  I had done 17 miles on the trail, but with the “unplanned” side trips I was close to 20.

The one-man tent in all its glory.

Evidently it was the correct place, it just wasn’t marked.  After I had set up camp, others started dribbling into camp.  I nice family from Alabama settled in next to me.  They had been on top of Blood Mountain during the storm which was a little disconcerting based on the thunder and openness of the mountain.  A father out with his 10 year-old son joined us as did another couple of guys.  This was a much different group then the night before.  With this being the Friday of Memorial Day Weekend, we were starting to get the holiday hikers.  Not as serious as section hikers, but definitely more than day hikers. 

Day 3:  17.0 miles, 43.3 cumulative

Day 4: Saturday, May 24^th

Due to the schedule I had set, Saturday was going to be an easy day.  Not only was it short, but the elevation changes were smaller.  I took my time in the morning, leaving about 8:00.  Three of the other groups left before I did.  The hike itself was rather nondescript, which no chances of getting lost.  I arrived at Low Gap Shelter at 1:00.  Having had enough of staying in the shelters and having plenty of time, I set up my tent by the creek.  Low Gap Shelter is a basic shelter nestled in a gap with a small stream running through the campground.  It was a very comfortable setting.  Deacon and Kerry were there as well, having stayed at Neel Gap the previous night.  We sat and talked for quite a while.  Deacon, as his trail name noted, is a deacon in the Catholic Church.  He is retired auto engineer from Port Clinton, OH in his late 60’s.  His plan is to hike the entire AT over 4 years.  This being his first year, he was heading to Damascus, VA doing about 10 miles a day at this point.  I think he has a good chance of completing the trail.

There seem to be two types of AT hikers.  One is very organized and disciplined.  This hiker has planned out everything.  They know where they are staying every night.  They know how much food they need and have mailed it to pick-up points along the trail.  Nothing is left to chance.  They may have a little flexibility built into their schedule, but even that is planned.  Everything they carry has a purpose and has been evaluated.  They don’t have “extra” of anything.  When they start, they can tell you the date they plan to finish.  The other kind of hiker is the exact opposite.  They know where they want to end:  Mt. Katahdin.  How they get there just happens somehow.  They have too much of some stuff and not enough of other stuff.  They hike for a while and then when they need supplies or a day off (called a “zero”) they hitchhike into town.  Most people like this don’t make it, but some do.  Some also start out like this and gravitate toward the other end, probably after a couple of difficult experiences.

Deacon was definitely the first type.  He is a dedicated ultra-light hiker.  His pack before food and water was 11 pounds.  That included spare clothes, which wasn’t much, tent, cook stove, water filter, pad and quilt.  It was impressive.  I’ve cut quite a bit of weight from my pack, but I was still 23 pounds before food and water.  He fabricated his own cookstove based on instructions from the internet.  Even before I asked him what his occupation was, I suspected he was an engineer.  He had attacked the task of reducing pack weight with the same focus as those of that profession.

Kerry, on the other hand, was more of the second type of hiker.  A retired newspaper reporter from Madison, WI a couple of years younger than Deacon, he had at that point not acquired the focus and planning that Deacon had.  He was, however, in excellent shape, being a runner and having done marathons in the past.  I sat and listened as Kerry “interviewed” Deacon about his ultralight pursuit.  It was fascinating.  I don’t think I will ever get to the point of giving up the few comforts in favor of reduced pack weight.

Deacon and Kerry stayed in the shelter.  We were also joined by the father and son from the previous night and some other new campers.  The family from Alabama stayed at the next primitive campground.

I also discovered a nickel-sized blister on the ball of my right foot.  It had not burst and didn’t hurt, so I fixed it the best I could and hoped for the best.  With only a short day left, I wasn’t too worried, but was puzzled by it.  It appeared after the shortest, easiest day.  I generally do not get blisters and have used these shoes for several hikes.

Day 4:  10.4 miles, 53.7 cumulative

Day 5: Sunday, May 25^th

Sunday was another beautiful day.  With less than 10 miles to do by 3:00 (my scheduled pick-up) and a relatively flat trail, I wasn’t in too much of a hurry to get done.  However, it is always good to get going just in case you happen to take a wrong turn and do a couple of extra miles.  I also wasn’t sure how the blister would affect my speed.  I left the campground around 7:45 and spent the first part hopscotching with Kerry.  We’d hike together for a while and then one of us would stop while the other would continue down the trail only to stop long enough later for the first guy to catch up.  Hiking with someone else with a little conversation makes the hike go faster.  At one point we figured we had done 2 miles when in fact it had been 4.  The blister wasn’t bothering me too much, but knowing that I had it made me think about it a lot.  There were a number of times when I landed hard on that foot and was sure I had split it wide open.  In the end, the blister survived intact until a point the following week when my patience gave out and I lanced it.

The end of the trail.

As the end grew near, I began speeding up.  Although the trail was generally pretty flat, there was a slight rise toward the end followed by a 1,000 foot drop over the last mile and half to Unicoi Gap.  I finished around 12:15 and found my friends from Alabama at the road waiting for their shuttle.  Ron Brown, owner of Ron’s Shuttle Service, had a pick-up in North Carolina that morning and was expecting 3:00 to be the earliest he could be there.  Turns out the pick-up hadn’t taken as long and he was only a half hour away.  He had suspected that I would finish early based on our conversation the day before, so when I called him, he was not surprised.  While I waited for him, Kerry and the father and son team showed up as well.  Kerry was heading into town, planning to hitchhike, but accepted a ride from the father and son who had also reached the end of their hike and had a vehicle parked there.

The camaraderie of the trail never ceases to amaze me.  Except for a few, I don’t remember the names of the people I met.  Some of them never gave me their name.  Although we shared just a short part of the trail, we shared in a greater experience.  Some of us connect because of shared beliefs.  I’ve met a lot of other Christians who didn’t need to tell me they were also Christians.  We just knew.  Others I connect with because of shared experiences, interests or personalities.  There is just something unpretentious about backpackers.  Perhaps it is the realization that we are so small and insignificant and the world is so vast.  If the weather is poor, we suffer together.  If it is beautiful, we rejoice together.  It is as if there is a very basic call of nature that we all hear.  The experience of nature puts us in our proper place, giving us a true perspective.  In the words of CS Lewis, ”And that is honor enough to erect the head of the poorest beggar, and shame enough to bow the shoulders of the greatest emperor!”

And thus ended our adventure.  We had completed our journey and this was the end.  The end of the beginning of the Appalachian Trail!

Day 5:  9.7 miles, 63.4 cumulative