We are Headed North PT 2

The night on Tray Mtn was a cold one. The campsite we landed--myself and two other guys, Totem and Ni Chow--was on a ridge slightly below a rock outcropping. As the remnants of the previous day's storm blew out, gusts of 45-60mph blew through our site all night and early morning. We were up early and on the trail after a communal breakfast of feast-like proportions.
The day's hike was tougher than I had planned. There was nothing overtly ridiculous about the terrain; nor was there a particularly wild climb. It was simply tough, and my goal of getting to hiawassee in time to resupply did not happen. The two newfound companions and I cowboy camped in a clearing about two and a half miles from our intended destination, under a brilliant full moon. We night hiked about two miles past a shelter to find our spot, and it was some of the most beautiful hiking I'd seen.
The next morning I left out early to catch an 8:45 shuttle into hiawassee for minimal food items and fuel. Totem and I caught the ride and landed in town by 9:15. We immediately decided to take the opportunity for rest, laundry, and shower, and split a room at the hiawassee Inn since the hostel was full. I do hate I missed out on the Blueberry Patch hostel experience, for I heard it was a wonderful one; however, Totem and I had an easy day of good conversation and cleansing of all things cleanable. Ni Chow, and his dog Mo Chow, didn't make our shuttle into town. I was sure we would run into each other again.
I set out the next morning at 8:30, despite a pretty sore ankle and a food coma. Totem decided to give his knee an extra day to rest, so we parted ways. The day was April 19, and I was determined that it would be my last day in Georgia. The climb out was a steep mile or so, after that is was more of the same up and down. Spring was settling in nicely; at the start the high trees were still totally bare but now showed signs of budding. The valleys grew more lush every day, and green was creeping up the hillside. About 2:30, I passed the state line, and about a mile later I hit the unofficial welcome sign: a funky, gnarled, seemingly ancient oak tree in the middle of the path at Bly Gap. I had arrived in North Carolina, and I decided that would be all I hiked for the day. Goodbye, Georgia; I will hardly miss thee.
As you hike through Georgia, cursing at every mountain and valley that you rollercoaster up and cascade into, you hear that North Carolina is better, easier almost. Well, friends, lemme tell you somethin'....there is a bit of truth there, in that the constant uphill/downhill is not so bad; I found that the ridgeline walks were more plentiful through NC. However...you wouldn't know any of this by the first three miles you have to walk. As soon as you get on the other side of that oak tree, the mountain slaps you in the mouth and says, 'Go up.' That was my experience the morning after Bly Gap. In a torrential downpour. With gusts coming straight up the mountain, half tossing me and my still-real-heavy pack around the trail. So, yeah, the tales of North Carolina's strolling terrain are a bit exaggerated.
With that said, the ensuing week was the best yet. Everything seemed almost instantly greener; all shades, from deeply hued moss-covered stones to fresh foliage and baby ferns. Periods of rain would come and go, and for the most part they always seemed to wait until I was at a shelter site. I met a host of wonderful people, most of whom I stayed around for the rest of the week: Hollywood, from central CA; Danish, a German/Danish dual citizen; Kipper, from FL; Wren, from Brooklyn; and many more. Amazing views from Standing Indian Mtn and Albert Mtn were definite highlights; the climb up Albert was a beast, and some of the most fun I've had on the trail. Thursday night rolled around, and Hollywood, Danish, Wren, and I decided that Franklin, NC, which could be accessed via US 64 about nine miles into the upcoming day, would be the site of the first official zero day. I hadn't planned on making Franklin a stop, but I was with excellent company and my legs were feeling the pounding of the last few days. Haven's Budget Inn was our destination for a super-affordable room. But before that was to happen we had business to attend to, the absolute highlight of which was surpassing the 100mile mark about 2 miles into the day. I know 100 out of 2180 doesn't seem like a lot, but we all more than earned our individual moments of celebration and self-satisfaction.
Ron Haven picked us up at Winding Stair Gap. Ron Haven is owner of Haven's Budget Inn and an eventual chapter of this log all unto himself. We arrived in Franklin, freshened up, and spent a night of commeradary with a host of other hikers: Bluefoot, Sawfoot, Old Spice, Brazil Nut, Panda Bear, and more. After a fine dinner and drinks, I found myself back at the hotel picking some music with Bass Clef, the Washington man who is hiking the trail and from town to town with his electric cello and battery-powered amp. Yes, I'm serious. And he is amazing.

This is where the story takes a turn....so we'll pause here for now. Very soon I'll be posting some gear talk and foodie talk for those interested; we'll then resume our regularly scheduled programming. Until then, folks.

-Whispering Beard