Week 3 I’m in Tennessee!

I’ve made it to Gatlinburg, TN at mile 206.8! Official countdown: 1,983.5 miles to go! The best part about that number is despite not really changing much it FEELS like it’s changed a lot with less than 2000 miles to go now. If we do what we’ve done 10ish more times we’ll be at the top of Katahdin! Cake.

Day 13 was a good day. Funky Stuff and I parted ways with Huggables and Yeti (Tyler and Emily) as they had to make an emergency run to a local Walmart to replace their new phone after its screen died. They’ll be meeting some friends on the trail soon and will have to catch up later, so it’ll be a little while till I see those wonderful folks again. According to trail gossip, the First Baptist Church of Franklin hosts a hiker breakfast of bacon, pancakes, and eggs every morning for a few weeks each year as part of their service to the community. Hikers and towns folk gather at 7 am for an awesome meal and cheerful conversation, reinforcing that even though we’re odd and smell terrible, we’re actually people sometimes. That’s how it’s supposed to go, at least. Funky and I are terrible at mornings, so according to another sign in town we showed up at 11:50 for their 12:00 hiker lunch. Naturally, we ended up walking in, packs and all, during the tail end of the 11 am service. Quickly realizing our mistake and attempting to minimize the damage, we started to back out but were excitedly welcomed in by the congregation. They invited us to have a seat and listen to a bit of the word of God before the star of our day, good ole’ Ernie, took the stage to talk about his rebirth through Christ and the profound effect it had on his life.  This man is amazing. Now, I’ll preface this by saying I’m not a particularly religious person, but while walking to the front door 10 minutes earlier we passed a car with a sticker on the dash that said, “Be Kind and Love One Another”. That’s the kind of message I can get behind. We found out later, as he drove us back to trail, the car and sticker belonged to Ernie.  After the service ended many of the people wanted to talk to us about our hike and the experiences we had. We chatted with a few, but spent the majority of our morning talking to Ernie about his life and the challenges he faced. Shunned by his own family and friends due to his gambling problem, he only found more trouble by getting involved with the mafia and spending a few years in jail after stealing thousands from them and others.  After serving his time, he quickly wound up back where he started at the horse tracks, but this time he found the strength within himself to walk away. He turned to God and was born again despite his Catholic upbringing, and through his experience he turned himself around and sought forgiveness from his family and community. He even faced the mob he stole from to repent for his crimes, knowing well the consequences could be his own death. When asked, he explained his rebirth and asked for forgiveness. Much to his own surprise, he received it. Since that day he’s lived through the word of God, saving those he felt he was meant to without ending up like that overbearing guy on the corner who yells that we’re all going to Hell. We learned about his experience over pancakes and bacon (for lunch) and he taught us about God and our simple path to salvation.  This experience was one of the things I craved when I set out on this journey.  Meeting people with a simple, yet life changing passion who live only to share with those willing and open. It’s incredibly refreshing compared to everyday life where people with more money and stuff force their thoughts and opinions on us as if it’s the only way to live; usually for their own sake and not ours.  While the lessons I took from Ernie weren’t entirely holy in nature, they’ve proved to be great food for thought over the many miles.  After plenty of discussion and funny stories from back in the day, Ernie waved good bye and offered Funky and I his blessings as we marched off into the mountains. Being 1:40 we negotiated our intended distance for the day. With daylight lasting till 7:30 pm now we had plenty of time to push on 10 miles or so to catch up with the Tribe. Instead, we wound up on top of Silers Bald Summit (mile 114.1) only 4ish miles into the day because of its incredible 320 degree view above all surrounding mountains. We knew it was too early to call it, but we’re here to see some awesome places and not worry about the miles, right? We have plenty of time till Maine, and I’d hate to regret not seeing enough stuff.  I’d also bought significantly too much food (or so I thought) and the bear canister I’m carrying started pushing into my back which caused my right shoulder blade to go numb. All these factors led us to an amazing sunset, an almost starry night (the moon was too bright), and a gorgeous sunrise in the Blue Ridge Mountains.  After a big fire with some section hikers, we called it a night.

Day 14 we woke up at 6:45 am to catch the sunrise. It was a great way to start the day. After a leisurely breakfast we started down the mountain with a goal of 17 miles in mind.  I found my groove quite quickly, chugging through the mountains at a strong 3.5 mph pace.  A comfortable walk usually ends up around 1.5 – 2 mph, so even though it seems slow, and despite some leftover snowy areas, I worked up a good sweat. After making it to the first major land mark, a partially burnt down stone tower (the wooden roof was burnt down in a recent forest fire) on Wayah Bald (mile 119.6), I hung out and ate till Funky caught up. After lunch, we gladly dumped all our trash in the nearby bear proof trashcan and launched back down the mountain. We hiked separate for the rest of the day, getting some good solo time after 2.5 days of being in a hotel room.  I made it to Wesser Bald Shelter  (mile 131.1) around 6:30 pm then joined some other hikers for a quick jaunt back up to another fire tower to watch the sunset. Funky Stuff was waiting there with the same idea, and after it got dark we headed back to the shelter to eat all the s’mores I’d been carrying in order to cut some weight out of my pack.  The shelter and surrounding area were full of tents and people, a record (for me) of 43 people staying the night. This is a perfect example of a “bubble”. As such, I found myself sleeping on another slope with Funky barely squeezing his sleeping pad and tarp on the “flat” next to me. As he set up his site we discussed the plan for the next day and realized Funky had a package arriving in the next town, Fontana Dam, NC, only 34 miles ahead. With three days till delivery, we decided to part ways since he’d have to slow down to 11ish mile days till the package arrived.  Itching to finally have an all out day I decided to set my alarm for 6:30 am to make the big push to catch up with the Tribe 10 miles, most of a full day of hiking, ahead.

Day 15 I woke up ready and rearin’. I packed up my tent and gear while most of the camp slept, planning to eat breakfast somewhere ahead so I could beat the huge group of people about to charge their way to the Nantahala Outdoor Center (NOC) only 8 miles down the trail.  The terrain was rigorous, with large rocky steps down the steep descent which never seemed to end. My feet hurt by the time I made it down to the NOC. Eager to eat I stopped in the restaurant for two cups of coffee and an awesome breakfast burrito, then went to the rec center to print out my Thru Hiker’s permit for The Great Smoky Mountains National Park which runs the NC/TN border for 70.5 miles. After a quick look around, I crossed the bridge over the rafting river and began the never ending 3,300 foot climb over 8 more miles towards the Tribe. Much to my own surprise, I found them leaving the Sassafras Gap Shelter (mile 143.7) as I arrived. Ragged from the climb, which I was informed wasn’t actually over yet, I plopped down next to an old hiker name poke man (nothing to do with Pokémon), named because he’s a slow poke. We chatted about the Pacific Crest Trail, 2,700 miles from Mexico to Canada along the West Coast, and the bulk water carry he was training for. A muti-day portion of the PCT through the desert requires upwards of 25 liters of water with no water sources. One liter of water weighs 2.2 lbs, so on top of all your gear you have to carry over 50 lbs of water! We also discussed some quirks about the Continental Divide Trail, 3,100 miles from Mexico to Canada through the Rockies, and the required group permits for certain sections due to Grizzly Bear populations. If a person does all three trails, AT, PCT, and CDT, it’s known as the Triple Crown. New dream? Maybe! I keep thinking as I hike, how can I get paid to do this for the rest of my life? Sponsors? National Park Service? State Park Service? Alas, I’m only 200 miles in; slow your roll, Grant, slow your roll.  After lunch, I continued my climb to Cheoah Bald (mile 144.9), then began my trip back down the mountain towards the Brown Fork Shelter (mile 152.8) where I would end my 22 mile day and meet the Tribe. At the bottom of the last mountain I found the Tribe waiting with a fresh banana from a trail angel who had just left. That banana was, to me, as the ring was to Golem in Lord of the Rings. Recharged, I finished the day and found a cool shelter with more sloped tent pads waiting. Exhausted from the dumbest 22 mile day I could have chosen (who likes flat easy miles?), I chose my site and enjoyed my evening with the Tribe I had worked so hard to catch. Awesome group, absolutely worth the crazy antics. I’ll be hiking with them for a while yet, I think.

Day 16 we hiked from Brown Fork Shelter (mile 152.8) to the Fontana Dam Lodge (mile 164.4). A 12 mile day was more than welcome after the rigorous day before, let alone the satisfying shower and refreshing beer waiting at the lodge. Despite the expensive prices at the general store, we stocked up and prepared for the Smoky Mountains the next day. This was another learning moment for me, though it didn’t click till day 18. We’ll get to that in a bit. After some shower laundry (which never stopped rinsing brown) we lounged in the sun with beer and snacks. Another moment to live for. Nothing like kickin’ back on beautiful sunny day with a beer and good people. Goalie, a German hockey goalie, and Free Man, an older Swiss man who speaks almost no English yet bravely came to hike the hike, are two other folks who have melded into the Tribe. It’s become a fun game teaching Goalie the cultural norms of Americanized English. How do you explain the difference and interchangeability between probably, maybe, and perhaps? They’re different, yet the same. Probably is more than 80% likely? Maybe is 50%? Perhaps is circumstantial or less than 50%? Comment what you think!  Later that night we went to the grill at the lodge and devoured burgers and pizza. We also met another hiker known as Sweet Potato. He seemed like a cool guy, but we later learned he’d been at the lodge for 3 days either drunk, high, tripping, or a combination of all three. He usually ended up in someone’s care, but it was quite the experience getting him under control during dinner (he was doing all three that night).  After a series of ridiculous events he walked out on his tab and our ever generous Gourmet, who had spent a long time talking to him, covered the cost.  Sweet Potatoe ended up wandering off that night, leaving all his gear and beer sprawled over the porch of the restaurant. He came back for it the next day before making camp to recoup from his night. Learning that Gourmet had covered the cost I quickly became frustrated. How can someone impose on others like that? How can someone put that behavior out there to a generous and accepting community, then attach themselves to a group and give them (all Thru Hikers) a name like that by association? While his circumstance doesn’t necessarily justify his behavior, it wasn’t till later that I learned of the rocky road by a steep cliff that was his life.  His first attempt on his life occurred at the age of 9, and it’s been a roller coaster ever since. His journey on the trail has become a mission to regain control and find meaning, something many hikers relate to when they set off on this odyssey.  It’s easy to assume we understand someone’s motives or mistakes and get frustrated by comparison to what choices we think we would have made in their shoes; just think about the last road rage moment you had, then think of the last time you made a stupid or selfish driving move. What’s the difference?  I consider myself well above average when it comes to empathy, but this was an exceptional example of how much I still have to learn and grow, as well as how I can keep learning to Be Kind and Love One Another. A little faith, either religiously or personally motivated, can change even the most far gone person. Be the bumper sticker and be the change you want to see in the world. Thanks again, Ernie.

Day 17 we woke up early and lazed about till we got the hungry hiker breakfast. All the classics: eggs, hash browns, bacon, toast, you name it! Once it was time to check out I found myself scrambling to pack up and ration my food, then sprint down the hill where we all gathered for the shuttle back to the trail. A quick $3 ride later and we were hiking towards the Fontana Dam Shelter (mile 165.5), also known as the Fontana Hilton by the hiker community. With room for 25 people, phone chargers, a pre-filtered water pump, and hot showers, it’s truly a hiker’s dream.  Many hikers celebrate the free luxury and gather in mass. Upon our arrival, word was over 50 people had stayed there the night before! Gah! I came out here to avoid the crowds! I’m glad people are communing with nature and enjoying the trail, but that shelter is Dam popular! After checking out the shelter I went to check my map, which never leaves it’s spot.. until now. Mind you, I keep my maps, sentimentals, and my Smoky mountain permits all in the same bag. It’s an important bag. For those of you in my life who have had the absolute pleasure of knowing me, this is a super Grant move. For those who don’t, now you know. Me forgetting vital things then panicking and flying by the seat of my pants to find them and sort things out is a natural byproduct of my inability to plan and my lax organization. I can hear my parents and friends facepalm or sigh and say, “yep, called it” from here. Needless to say, I had to run back the mile we just hiked with my pack to beat housekeeping to our room. Upon making it to the shuttle, and here comes the next facepalm, I hopped in and was driven to the shelter I had just run from to pick up other hikers on our way back to the lodge. In my defense, I called the lodge and talked to people before running and NOT ONE mentioned that shuttle stop to me. At least I didn’t have to hike back to the shelter from the lot again!  When I got back to the room my heart sank as it had just been cleaned, but nobody was around to ask about my maps. I rummaged through three bags of trash before breaking into a complete profanity-mumbling frenzy around the already cleaned room. This is the exact reason why I always do a double take when I set down for water, a snack, or stay in a hotel. Due to my scramble earlier in the day I forgot my golden rule. I decided to look around the maid cart a little more since I could only wait for the maids to return and I was rewarded with a bag tucked behind some towels. A cry of joy and relief sounded when I confirmed it was mine. This was quickly followed by dread when I realized I had also kept all my journals in that bag too. Everything was there, this was my equivalent of dodging a bullet matrix style. I rushed back to the kind shuttle guy who had put off his lunch break to wait and help me out, then made my way to the shelter where I headed for the smokies (Now you understand the random text, Camille!).  The Tribe had continued on towards Mollies Ridge Shelter (mile 177) and after some solid solo chugging I met up with them and made camp for the night.

Day 18 we set off on an 18 mile day. Due to bear populations in the smokies hikers are required to camp in or near shelters, so when planning out a day you’re limited to those sites. Our original goal was a shelter 12 miles ahead, but with a little coaxing towards a longer day I was able to sell breakfast the next day with a sunrise from Clingmans Dome Tower, the tallest mountain/point on the whole Appalachian Trail.  Excited for a sweet view we started our now 18 mile hike over a relatively easy terrain day.  I hiked on my own for a good portion of the day, stopping to soak in the views from a few mountain tops. My favorite surprise from the smokies has to be the miles of wild flowers we’ve walked through. I wish my camera could do them justice, my week 1 post includes a picture of a small white flower with purple pin stripes, now imagine thousands of those spread throughout miles of mountain forest landscape. I held my bladder for miles because I didn’t have the heart to pee on them! This landscape was another item checked off the list of things I dreamed of seeing on the trail, but I expected it in the hills and fields of Virginia, not the mountain tops of the smokies! An amazing treat that’s still going through the whole 70.5 miles of the National Park. We met up for lunch at Derrick Knob Shelter (mile 189), this is where that learning moment from day 16 clicked for me. Just as I thought I bought too much food from Franklin, I bought too little and the wrong kind of food from Fontana. Today I learned about the REAL struggle behind the hiker hunger. What I thought I knew was just a drop in the ocean, and my current fear is that this is too.  I hypothesize my mistake was made when I tried to save money by buying pop tarts instead of granola/protien bars. I’ve been craving them because of their popularity on the trail, and with a $3 box of 4 packs of pop tarts compared to the huge $1.70 mark up per granola bar my choice was clear. I knew going into the pop tarts how void of anything but calories they are, and when I hit lunch on day 18 it became clear what that’s really worth on the trail. Building up to the lunch shelter I got anxious about getting to the end of the day so I could make dinner. I was blowing by places I might have otherwise stopped at and practically falling over things trying to pick up the pace. I was desperate for food, but didn’t really know it. I wasn’t hungry, but I needed food immediately.  This is a hunger I’ve never experienced. It was like being that chubby kid from Willy Wonka when he finally gets to the room that’s entirely edible, or the starving kid brought into a palace and presented endless decadent food and told go for it. When I finally sat down, I destroyed my last pouch of pop tarts, a whole 12 oz brick of cheese, and a 9 oz summer sausage which I sliced up into tortillas. With the beast finally tamed my whole world returned to normal. That was when everything clicked. Realizing how much my hike and mental state had changed due to my body’s calorie crave put my diet into perspective. Whatever food I carry, I will eat it. However much food I think I’ll want while normal, it’s not enough. From this day forward food doesn’t fall into the category of saving weight, and snacks are just as important as meals. After lunch we hiked on, enjoying the scenery and flowers till we finally made it to Silers Bald Shelter (mile 194.7) only 4.6 miles from the top of Clingman’s Dome.  After setting up for the night, I promised to wake up a bit early and make coffee for everyone before our alpine hike to the summit of Clingmans Dome, then we goofed off with other hikers till it was time for bed.

Day 19 I woke up at 4:30 to prepare as much coffee as possible before other folks began to stir.  We packed up our gear and gathered at the trail where an unexpected 2 out of 9 people had coffee. Most decided it was a bad idea before the pace we needed, which left me with lots of hot water. So four cups of coffee and one to-go mug later I was zooming down the trail with my head lamp lighting the way.  About a mile in I came to a rock with a few white blazes and some confusing arrows. Tribe already ahead and mind buzzing I picked the direction that seemed to make the most sense and resumed my march. Another mile in I started to worry. Where are the white blazes?! Do I keep hiking in a possible wrong direction? I’m gonna miss sunrise! Then a blaze appeared like an answer to a prayer. Ask and the trail shall provide! A quarter mile later I caught up to the Tribe, all marching in a line with lead lamps glowing.  We hiked through some cool forest from what I could tell, I almost wished I had waited to see it all in the daylight. Unfortunately, we misjudged the time of sunrise by about 20 minutes, but on the bright side I got to see the cool terrain! A bit later a huge concrete tower with a spiral ramp and round platform cut through the trees to let us know we’d finally arrived.  We dawned our wind breakers and warm gear and headed up to the top for breakfast and tons of pictures.  I managed to get a good panorama shot, but I encourage you all to drive to the parking lot at the base of the tower so you can see the real deal someday. Mountains for days.  The tower sits at 6,600 feet above sea level, so it was 23 degrees colder with a good bit of wind. In spite of this we spent an hour at the top eating and chatting with tourists about Gatlinburg. I had my first experience with instant grits on top of the tower too. Hubba Hubba bought grits thinking they were oatmeal and quickly learned to never make that mistake again. Going back to the hiker hunger section above, I traded him five oatmeal packets for his five grits thinking about how everything tastes good to me now. Even with the hiker hunger, I can’t say I would choose to condemn myself to that experience a second time. Don’t get me wrong, they weren’t terrible, and I ate most of the packets, but if I’m describing them as “not that terrible” while in starvation mode I don’t know that I want to try them with normal standards. Once we were thoroughly filled and chilled we walked back down to prepare for our 8 mile movement down the mountain towards the Newfound Gap parking lot (mile 206.4). The tower itself was at mile 199.6, so a short time into our march we came across a bunch of sticks arranged into a big 200. 200 miles down, baby! The hike down the mountain was a gorgeous one, but not for the views. The change of terrain was something unlike anything we’ve seen so far, moss and old growth everywhere! Movies about magical far away lands could absolutely be filmed here. Goalie, suffering from some serious chafing, ended up hitching to town early to make hotel reservations for the night.  With four miles to go we broke out the trail games, namely Contact! (Thank you UD Outing Club for that one). The miles rolled by and we eventually found ourselves in the middle of an enormous parking lot full of cars and tourists. Coping with the sudden change of environment we sought out a few friends and lined up for pictures on the NC/TN border sign. We’ve been bouncing back and forth for days, but it’s not real till we have a sign picture!  While talking to tourists about our journey and inspirations Hubba Hubba asked me if I had anymore water, which I had just chugged a quarter mile earlier. With few water sources on the way down the mountain we were all parched and desperate for a ride to town. As if in response to his question, a Trail Angel who had Thru Hiked in 2014 appeared offering water, as much soda as we wanted, and a free ride to town in his truck. Praised be the trail! He introduced himself as Franky the Sleeper, though I never caught the story behind his name. He was able to fit five people in his truck, but with seven people in tow two had to hop in back for the 15 mile drive to town.  We learned it’s not exactly a legal move to do so in Tennessee, so Ten and I buried ourselves under the packs and snuggled up for the ride to town. It’s an interesting perspective driving through the woods while smushed in the bed of a truck, but the real fun happened when we made it into town. Gatlinburg is like a tourist trap beach town in the mountains. Thousands flock here every day from all over the world, which made their diverse expressions even better when a few finally noticed two people in the back of the truck buried in dirty gear smiling back at them.  The night was spent restocking and eating pizza with a few cold beers and plenty of ice cream. Gotta love the good days.

Summary:

The 22 mile day took its toll on my legs.  My calves, despite already being enormous, have solidified into dense muscle and even started to grow.  I can’t even roll up my pajama legs anymore! I’m loving every day and I’m always excited to see what the next day will bring, it’s always something new and unexpected.  It’s great have good company too; hiking alone is nice,  but having a group of familiar and exhausted but still smiling faces to make camp and eat dinner with makes the miles even more worth it. I’ll try to write more about the people I’m with soon, we’re a crazy bunch. It’s gonna be a rough week ahead,  4 days of rain followed by a day of sun then 4 more days of rain (in theory). I’ll keep you posted!

If you all want to see anything more or have any suggestions for my posts make sure to leave me a comment!  I have to approve all comments so if you have suggestions and don’t want them posted just let me know!  I make sure to read everything. I added more thoughts based on some previous suggestions, hopefully I don’t ramble to much!  Till next time!