My, oh my, I have much to catch up on. As I began writing, I realized I was heading into way too much detail for the time I had; so, I'm going to give a condensed version of events, followed by a host of pictures, and as I am able I will delve into some stories and steadfast moments thus far.
I left out from Neels Gap after my last posting, and had a very enjoyable day of kiking. Up and over several mountains, down and out from a handful of gaps, and finished my day atop Poor Mountain....seemed fitting somehow. I stopped about two miles short of my intended destination but the view and solitude were well worth it. I enjoyed a small campfire on the top of the ridge with the echoing cries of coyotes and owls to the light of a bright moon.
The next day was spent in a fog--actually, a cloud would be a more accurate description. The entire mountain and gap was filled with a dense, chilled air; the leafless trees were standing as ghosts in the mist, all around, spindly and sinuous. A storm was approaching so I booked good time to the shelter of my choosing, which proved to be perhaps the most blustery and wind-driven shelter on the trail. Ten hikers ended up huddled in the structure, and we quickly went about hanging tarps and rain flys to weatherproof as best we could. It proved to be our saving move, as the rain and wind pounded us repeatedly; it was the worst storm I'd ever endured while camping, for sure. The morning came, and despite the weather's best efforts, we were all relatively dry and rested. It was cold and crisp, and was a good day to get off the mountain.
The next day I experienced my first genuine bit of trail magic. Right before I ascended Tray Mtn, I came across a 2009 thru-hiker that lived near the area. He and his wife had set up a tailgate on a Forest Service road at the base of the mountain. They had chilled drinks, fried chicken, and a host of trail food for us to eat or pack out, and they did it all because of the gratitude he felt when he hiked and experienced the kindness of strangers. They expected nothing in return and wouldn't take anything if offered. I got a bit of advice on a stealth campsite at the top of the mountain (tucked away and not known about by most folks) and made my way up the hill. Frankenfoot and Em, you guys are absolutely fantastic and have inspired me and others to give back to this amazing trail community once my journey is complete.
Folks, this'll have to be a two-parter.....more to come......my ride's leaving for the trail.
See y'all soon....
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Thursday, April 14, 2011
We've only just begun
Well folks, it has been quite the adventure already--and I'm only four or so days in. Unfortunately I'm a little short on time today...my morning has been full of TCBin' at the Mountain Crossings outfitters in Neels Gap, and I need to start hikin awful soon....but I wanted to get a post up before I departed since I'm not sure when my next chance will be.
Saturday- We'll call it day 0 since I didn't hit the actual starting point til Sunday. Saturday my dear friend Stephen shuttled me to Amicalola Falls state park where the approach trail begins. And lemme tell you....that approach trail means serious business. I would have to say at this point those 8.8mi have been the toughest I've done--and they don't even count in official total! When I'm finished with this journey, my mileage will have an asterisk by it with a footnote mentioning the extra distance...you know, like those steroid-ridden baseball hall-of-famers. Stephen and I camped halfway down the approach trail, encountered a group of rather ambitious bikers in the eve (one of which we bestowed the trail name of Four Man Tent to. I think you can deduce how he got that name), cowboy camped under the stars, and then parted ways in the morning with hugs and well wishes. He also gave me what has turned out to be the most awesome hat I have ever had--pictures coming once I can do some downloading. It is because of such wonderful friends and family that I am even able to attempt this journey.
Day 1, I finished the approach trail and arrived at the summit of Springer Mountain and the official start of the Appalachian Trail. The view was stunning, and brought into clear view the daunting task ahead. I hiked a couple miles down from the summit and camped near the Stover Creek Shelter where I met my first group of pontential GAMErs(GA-ME). Everyone was in high spirits and the company was excellent.
Day 2 was the roughest day of hiking I've ever done. I pushed ahead almost twelve miles, up and down steep mountain passes, in an unseasonably warm day. A fellow hiker and I chose to stop a mile and a half short of our intended shelter and instead set up camp at a gorgeous site along Justus Creek. I was so tired and worn I didn't bother with dinner--just hung my food out of the reach of bears and went to sleep. About 11pm, a storm rolled in, and about 1am it got serious. I did a poor job of pitching my tent and ultimately paid the price. I woke the next day with everything soggy and in poor spirits.
My hiking companion from the previous day and I decided it was worth the unexpected stop to get into the next town and dry off. We made a short day of it--about 7mi--and caught a shuttle into Dahlonega, GA. We split a room, showered for the first time in three days, got our belongings dried out, grabbed a hot meal, and slept like a log. The next morning, my newfound friend decided to stay in town since was working on a different timeframe than myself, so we parted ways. Blackfoot, I wish you the best.
Yesterday was a really good day. I tackled 11 1/2 miles, caught some of the most beautiful views I've ever seen, and arrived at the outfitters in time to get gear advice and ideas on ways to shed pack weight. Believe me, after four days with a loaded pack on your back, you start thinking about every single ounce and how you can shed some. I pitched my tent behind the building, conversed with a new group of great people, and now here we are.
I've already met so many wonderful folks: Journey, Blackfoot, Nature Boy, Flat Feet, Lumpy, Huck Finn....just to name a few. Each has something to offer, and each did so freely and willingly. I've also learned several things already: for example, you're feet will tell you when they've had enough, and when they speak up you better listen. After three days of wearing the same pair of underwear, they will magically begin riding so far up your leg you'll think you lost 'em. Ounces equal pounds, and pounds equal pain. Drink as much water as you can....seriously folks, it will make all the difference in the world, both day of and day after.
Well, I wish I could chat more, but I gotta get moving forward. There's ground to be covered....I'll be in touch.
Saturday- We'll call it day 0 since I didn't hit the actual starting point til Sunday. Saturday my dear friend Stephen shuttled me to Amicalola Falls state park where the approach trail begins. And lemme tell you....that approach trail means serious business. I would have to say at this point those 8.8mi have been the toughest I've done--and they don't even count in official total! When I'm finished with this journey, my mileage will have an asterisk by it with a footnote mentioning the extra distance...you know, like those steroid-ridden baseball hall-of-famers. Stephen and I camped halfway down the approach trail, encountered a group of rather ambitious bikers in the eve (one of which we bestowed the trail name of Four Man Tent to. I think you can deduce how he got that name), cowboy camped under the stars, and then parted ways in the morning with hugs and well wishes. He also gave me what has turned out to be the most awesome hat I have ever had--pictures coming once I can do some downloading. It is because of such wonderful friends and family that I am even able to attempt this journey.
Day 1, I finished the approach trail and arrived at the summit of Springer Mountain and the official start of the Appalachian Trail. The view was stunning, and brought into clear view the daunting task ahead. I hiked a couple miles down from the summit and camped near the Stover Creek Shelter where I met my first group of pontential GAMErs(GA-ME). Everyone was in high spirits and the company was excellent.
Day 2 was the roughest day of hiking I've ever done. I pushed ahead almost twelve miles, up and down steep mountain passes, in an unseasonably warm day. A fellow hiker and I chose to stop a mile and a half short of our intended shelter and instead set up camp at a gorgeous site along Justus Creek. I was so tired and worn I didn't bother with dinner--just hung my food out of the reach of bears and went to sleep. About 11pm, a storm rolled in, and about 1am it got serious. I did a poor job of pitching my tent and ultimately paid the price. I woke the next day with everything soggy and in poor spirits.
My hiking companion from the previous day and I decided it was worth the unexpected stop to get into the next town and dry off. We made a short day of it--about 7mi--and caught a shuttle into Dahlonega, GA. We split a room, showered for the first time in three days, got our belongings dried out, grabbed a hot meal, and slept like a log. The next morning, my newfound friend decided to stay in town since was working on a different timeframe than myself, so we parted ways. Blackfoot, I wish you the best.
Yesterday was a really good day. I tackled 11 1/2 miles, caught some of the most beautiful views I've ever seen, and arrived at the outfitters in time to get gear advice and ideas on ways to shed pack weight. Believe me, after four days with a loaded pack on your back, you start thinking about every single ounce and how you can shed some. I pitched my tent behind the building, conversed with a new group of great people, and now here we are.
I've already met so many wonderful folks: Journey, Blackfoot, Nature Boy, Flat Feet, Lumpy, Huck Finn....just to name a few. Each has something to offer, and each did so freely and willingly. I've also learned several things already: for example, you're feet will tell you when they've had enough, and when they speak up you better listen. After three days of wearing the same pair of underwear, they will magically begin riding so far up your leg you'll think you lost 'em. Ounces equal pounds, and pounds equal pain. Drink as much water as you can....seriously folks, it will make all the difference in the world, both day of and day after.
Well, I wish I could chat more, but I gotta get moving forward. There's ground to be covered....I'll be in touch.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
The time is measured in hours, not days
I am now approximately seventy-two hours away from starting my thru-hike attempt of the Appalachian Trail. I suppose at this point I actually have to go through with it since so many friends and family members and acquaintances know of my intentions.....me and my big mouth. In my typical fashion, I am coming down to the wire on preparedness; I can--with a fair amount of confidence, I must admit-- say that I truly feel mentally sharp and aware of what lies ahead of me. It's hard to use the words 'sure' or 'confident' when referencing my readiness mentally, since everything I know of my upcoming journey is either hard fact regarding the attributes of the Trail or personal accounts of those who have gone before me. Not at all to lessen the value of listening to your predecessors, but I cannot say I feel 'sure' of what is to come, or that I am 'confident' that I am totally equipped.....but I feel like I know what I need to know, I'm not romanticizing the hardships and realities of living with what you can carry, and I do not at all expect this journey to be "easy."
For some people I have talked to, the most daunting aspect to them is the isolation from daily connectivity and civilization; for others, it is the sheer thought of being swallowed whole by the woods; for others it is the dietary restrictions; for most, I would say, it is a combined emotion leading to a comprehensive fear of what they can't predict. It sounds almost fantastical, a 2,200 mile WALK from one end of the oldest mountains on Earth to the other.....okay, so technically that last statement isn't true because the ancient mountain chain actually spreads across the floor of the Atlantic Ocean and helps comprise the rolling hills of Scotland, if I'm not mistaken......but the other part is true. Well, almost true; the actual distance this year comes in at just over 2,180 miles. But I like round numbers. I can say, however, that the remaining part of the original statement is absolutely true: I will be walking the whole way. Unless I can tame a feral pony, in which case I will be riding a pony. Yes, there are feral ponies on the Trail.
Tomorrow is a critical gear day for me; a couple final purchases to make and a lot of tinkering and prepping. The tent is due for a seam sealing and a healthy once-over, and the weather is supposed to be prime for such activity. I'll be uploading a host of pictures of my outfit for this venture; though this blog will not be a gear review, I will share my pack list and any pertinent item info. Also, once on the Trail, I'll be delving into my diet and food prep quite a bit, hoping to share some useful bits concerning the backcountry menu. Everyone has their own approach, and there is nothing especially significant about mine--I just want to keep it affordable, healthy, clean of junk food, and as nutritious and replenishing as possible. Some of the things I'll be trying will be brand new, so it'll be a learning experience for us all. Learning is fun sometimes.
For some people I have talked to, the most daunting aspect to them is the isolation from daily connectivity and civilization; for others, it is the sheer thought of being swallowed whole by the woods; for others it is the dietary restrictions; for most, I would say, it is a combined emotion leading to a comprehensive fear of what they can't predict. It sounds almost fantastical, a 2,200 mile WALK from one end of the oldest mountains on Earth to the other.....okay, so technically that last statement isn't true because the ancient mountain chain actually spreads across the floor of the Atlantic Ocean and helps comprise the rolling hills of Scotland, if I'm not mistaken......but the other part is true. Well, almost true; the actual distance this year comes in at just over 2,180 miles. But I like round numbers. I can say, however, that the remaining part of the original statement is absolutely true: I will be walking the whole way. Unless I can tame a feral pony, in which case I will be riding a pony. Yes, there are feral ponies on the Trail.
Tomorrow is a critical gear day for me; a couple final purchases to make and a lot of tinkering and prepping. The tent is due for a seam sealing and a healthy once-over, and the weather is supposed to be prime for such activity. I'll be uploading a host of pictures of my outfit for this venture; though this blog will not be a gear review, I will share my pack list and any pertinent item info. Also, once on the Trail, I'll be delving into my diet and food prep quite a bit, hoping to share some useful bits concerning the backcountry menu. Everyone has their own approach, and there is nothing especially significant about mine--I just want to keep it affordable, healthy, clean of junk food, and as nutritious and replenishing as possible. Some of the things I'll be trying will be brand new, so it'll be a learning experience for us all. Learning is fun sometimes.
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