Goodbye, Georgia

My second entry came on April 16. By then, I had decided to take “Freeman Trail” around Blood Mountain in Georgia. Initially, and like many, I considered “blue blazing,” or taking a side trail that was not formally part of the AT, as a kind of cheating on a thru-hike. These “shortcuts” sometimes offer a hike with less elevation changes, or cross over roads, which might offer rides. Thru-hiker purists would generally frown on someone who took an easier path, and didn’t stick solely to the white blazes. Knowing that did not make the choice easy when word reached me through the grapevine that the Appalachian Trail Conference had been requesting that, due to traffic on Blood Mountain, hikers take blue-blaze path. Apparently, the Blood Mountain trail was over whelmed by thru-, section- and day-hikers. That rumor was enough. My desires to enjoy some time on the trail with just my thoughts, to unwind from several days’ stress, and to avoid trouble in finding a campsite overtook my concern about bragging rights. In the end, the side trail was certainly not easier. In fact, it wasn’t even shorter, but it was worth it. I was told that there were over 20 hikers who stayed on the trail and hiked Blood Mountain, and that it was actually crowded. Eventually, I rejoined the AT, and without thinking of stopping, passed by a perfectly good campsite and arrived at Mountain Crossings at about 7 PM.

Unfortunately, I’d intended to get there the following morning, and as I expected, the hostel and campsite had completely booked for the night. Since I needed to procure supplies in order to continue, and looked forward to a pack assessment at Mountain Crossings Outfitters, I was not going to hike ahead as night was falling. Backtracking uphill to camp was also ridiculous.

The Blood Mountain cabins were a short walk away, but they were $60 a night, a cost I hoped to avoid. Fortunately, Blue Butterfly and then Charlie (now known as Lucky Bastard) joined me as I was making my decision, and we decided to split a cabin. After all, they held 4 people, and we shared the predicament! Later that evening, Kieran showed up and asked if he could join us. The final cost ended up being only $15 each, which was a pretty damn good solution!

The next morning, we headed up to the Mountain Crossing Outfitters, and I let one of the employees give me their famous gear shakedowns, which usually result in a significant weight reduction.

By this point, hikers who, after the first 30 miles, have had time to appreciate the folly of carrying canned goods or very heavy accessories on their own are suggested changes in gear and accessories. Sure, the store is happy to sell new gear, but hikers are in turn relieved to shed any extra weight they can in their pack. I feared unpacking in front of someone and finding my careful planning ridiculed, but the gear specialist I worked with was actually impressed with what I had in my pack. He didn’t think I was carrying anything that I shouldn’t be, save for a couple of things like extra batteries. I realized how worried I’d been once I was done. What a relief! I thought that they’d come up with all sorts of things for me to get rid of! After the consultation, I felt good about my gear, but still managed to send almost 2 pounds of stuff home.

Charlie and I stayed at the hostel that night, as there were rumors of severe thunderstorm and tornadoes, with hail and 70 MPH winds expected. This turned out to provide more than shelter from the elements, though I did not want to risk hypothermia or being pelted by hail. As evening fell, Jack Tarlin (Baltimore Jack, who has thru-hiked 8 times) joined a growing group of hikers and spent about three hours giving all of us advice and answering questions.

The next day I set off by myself, a little after the crowd rushed off, and hiked a few miles to a nice campsite that I found. When I got there, there was already one tent set up, so I set up mine. 2 hours later, there were 13 tents there! Crowds would be inevitable. March is a popular time for NoBo thru-hikers, because the flowers bloom along the trail and it’s warm. This year was already an exception, but apparently the foul weather did not deter the masses. The following day, I left the site after everyone else had gone, and continued on.

Over the next few days, I hiked about 37.6 miles, taking no notes, letting the project part of my hike become something I’d catch up to. I needed to find my rhythm, without the distraction. Besides, the trail provided plenty to see on clear days, and people to meet, and the last thing I wanted to do when stopping was to write several pages of notes like “saw trees…saw more rocks and trees.”

In time, I arrived at Dicks Creek Gap and US 76, the intersection that leads to Hiawasee, GA, 12 miles away. According to my guidebook, “The A.T. Guide” by David Miller, a free shuttle runs to the trailhead here that brings hikers into town, but I wasn’t sure what time it arrived. I initially resolved to hitchhike to save time. However, there was a guy sitting on one of the picnic tables at the parking area, who said that he shuttled people into town for $5. Assuming this would be faster than hitching and just as safe or reliable as anything, I took him up on his offer.

He brought me to the Hiawasee Budget Inn, and I checked in. I encountered a few people there that I’d seen a couple of days earlier, including Spot, with whom I’d really enjoyed speaking. We caught up and traded stories we’d heard. The inn was completely full that night, but there was only one car in the lot- so most of the guests were hikers. I justified the expense as my first hotel stay, and indulged in hot water and clean sheets. Imagine the luxury of your first hot shower in over three weeks of hiking! In town, I gathered supplies before setting off again. Trail towns like these allow hikers to easily find fuel for cooking. Hiawassee, though small, maintains two well stocked dollar stores, and I availed myself of both, saving quite a bit of money on food. Since I don’t eat meat, rice and pasta provide carbs and calories, and these stores usually stock both and offer an inexpensive resupply. Unfortunately though, I seem to have a tendency to get more food than I need by far! The next morning when the shuttle brought me back to the trailhead, my pack seemed like it weighed a ton. My legs ached under the new weight and I was only able to hike a mile or so before finding a nice, secluded campsite. I’d only intended to stop for a little while, but ended up staying there for 2 nights. I just wasn’t feeling very well; my whole body was sore. So I decided to just take it easy. Again, I read on my Kindle, and used my iPhone to listen to some of my favorite podcasts. By the third morning though, I was feeling guilty for my extended stop and I felt my strength very much restored. Eating some of the food I’d bought and resting helped greatly, and I headed off re-energized.

I managed to hike about 8 miles, and I saw what I’d been waiting to see for 85.1 miles: the sign for the Georgia and North Carolina border! Finally! It seemed like it took me forever just to get here: one state down, 13 to go. I chose not to think of that as overwhelming; I chose to think of it as a kind of dare. Crossing a state line on foot feels like an important milestone. Some states, of course, offer less distance than others. Some are simply much easier, period. Some challenge hikers intensely, and gloomy weather added to challenge of starting and made Georgia one state I would be happy to put behind me. I camped a short distance away, and the next day made it 12.2 miles to the Beech Gap tenting area. I ended up tenting next to a group of six students from some sort of Christian high school and their two counselors. I spoke with Priscilla, one of the counselors, for a while. She is from Asheville, NC and was very interested in some of my gear, like my tent and my stove. Apparently she has done some stuff with Outward Bound in CO, so we compared notes regarding the merits of alcohol versus canister stoves, tarps versus tents, etc. To a non-hiker, it might not sound so exciting, I know. In truth, this is how gear decisions are made and new products are conceived: in this industry, we are the research and development team. Besides, there isn’t always much else to talk about.

The next morning, I set my alarm for 8AM, in order to give them a head start, since they seem to have set theirs for an hour earlier. Unfortunately, the packing up efforts of the group of teenagers included quite a bit of shouting back and forth to each other. This made sleeping after 7 AM impossible, and while I’d hoped for a bit more rest (or at least a better experience in waking, after they’d left) I started my day by making breakfast.

That ended up being a good thing though, as it turned out to be my best day yet in terms of distance. After I took down my campsite, I managed to hike 15.3 miles, approximately as far as I made it in my first three days or so. I felt incredibly good as I arrived at the Rock Gap shelter. Thank goodness I made it when I did, because the moment I arrived, the clouds which threatened rain during the late hours of the day let loose. Not drizzle, no dainty drops of spring shower type rain, but pouring, relentless, heavy rain. I loathe shelters normally due to the snoring and talking, but I was very glad to have been in that one. It thundered most of the night, and I found out later that it had rained 4.5 inches. The group of four that preceded me at the shelter, bless them, had already made a small, cozy fire under the roof over the picnic table. The warmth and shelter from this raging storm more than made up for the fact that I prefer to sleep alone in my tent. I hung out with Solar, who was extremely happy to meet me: I am the first fellow type-1 diabetic he has met thus far. His wife is apparently maintaining a blog for diabetic hiking. We compared insulin types and dosages, food we carried, etc. We also enjoyed talking to Catfish, Tyvek (who has a tent and backpack made out of Tyvek), Swing Low, and River. The five of us made good company, and despite the noise of the storm, we all slept well.

The following morning, we hiked the 3.7 miles to Winding Stair Gap together in order to meet the shuttle that would take us into Franklin, NC. Solar and I got to the road crossing well ahead of everyone else, and there was no sign of the shuttle. As we stood there, shortly after arriving and assessing our options, a driver pulled into the parking area and asked us if we needed a ride into town. Solar wanted to remain waiting for the rest of the group, but I took advantage of the offer, as it was extremely windy and only about 45 degrees out. As much as I enjoyed this group, I felt like getting somewhere warm and off my feet.

He brought me the 10 miles into Franklin, and delivered me to the Budget Inn. I missed the farmer’s market that ended at noon, about 30 minutes after I arrived and checked in. Not long after, I enjoyed not one, but two, showers. I took the opportunity here to do some laundry for the luxury of wearing clean clothes. With my extra time and while I felt fresh, I wrote my second blog entry on my iPhone, since I would be able to charge it without batteries here. I located a small shop that had excellent coffee, where I had two large cups. Afterwards, I made my way to a local outfitter and bought some more water treatment drops. I took some time while in the hotel room to call home and get the latest, and to let everyone know how well I felt after the last few day’s improvement.

As I dozed off, I thought about how my hike was getting progressively better. I was sure that I could maintain the pace, and soon the weather would turn into a milder springtime. My hike took a more definitive shape in my mind. The next section would be the most dangerous and the most difficult, but that night, I celebrated my in-town victories and comforts with a terrific night’s slumber that nothing could interrupt.