Into the Park

This post encompasses three days, March 29th through March 31st. The first two involved a lot of strenuous hiking, while the third (today) is a "zero day" in Gatlinburg, TN.

I started out on morning of the 29th (Tuesday at the Marina at Fontana Lake, where I had stepped off the trail the day before. I should note that I could easily have saved myself a 1.8 mile section of trail by having the Lodge shuttle driver drop me off at Fontana Dam instead; they were equidistant from the lodge.

This brings up the question of whether I am a "purist" or not. Thru hikers often debate this subject, sometimes vehemently.  Some say that since you occasionally have to walk off the trail a little to a water supply or shelter, that it all evens out in the end if you skip a mile or two of the actual trail. Others are even more lax, and have no serious issue hopping a ride for a few miles (or 10, 20, 50....miles) to catch up with their friends. The other camp, as you might suspect, claims that you can't claim to have hiked the whole trail if you skipped portions, even small ones. If you can justify skipping one small portion then you can justify skipping another, and another. It's a slippery slope.

I knew where I weighed in on this debate before I started the hike. After reading books, blogs, comments, etc. written by people who have hiked the trail, I decided that I am a purist. If I'm going to hike the entire Appalachian Trail, then that means I will pass every white blaze.

As it turned out, that easy-to-skip 1.8 miles was a fine section of the trail, skirting Fontana Lake from the marina to the dam.

Fontana Lake.

Fontana Dam.

At first, Great Smoky Mountains National Park looked no different than any of the national forests I had been walking through. The shelters were a little nicer, perhaps because they were built and maintained by the Park Service. Every Appalachian Trail thru hiker is charged $20 to go through the park, so perhaps some of that goes toward the shelters. It certainly didn't go toward trail marking, since the GSMNP had far worse marking than elsewhere. At times I didn't see a white blaze for what seemed like a quarter mile.

The GSMNP went to elevations I had not experienced before on the trail. On the 29th I stopped late in the evening at a shelter over 5,000 feet and it was very cold and windy. It was a clear night and I could see the city lights of multiple Tennessee towns and cities far below on the valley floor.

On the 30th the trail kept climbing until I finally arrived at Klingman's Dome, the highest point on the AT at over 6,600 feet. I had started at 1,700 foot Fontana Dam the day before. The last 500 vertical feet before Klingman's Dome was spectacular. I walked through several miles of dense hemlock forest covered with moss.

Hemlock trees on the trail.

Moss.

At the top I was rewarded with spectacular views of both North Carolina and Tennessee.  I still had to walk 7 miles to the nearest pass and, although it was mostly downhill, it was extremely rough in spots. I was thoroughly exhausted by the time I reached Newfound Pass and caught a ride to Gatlinburg. I had covered over 40 miles in two days.  I stopped in Gatlinburg, TN because I was running out of food and I was exhausted.  I took a "zero" day there.

A view from Great Smokey National Park.

Much Vertical

After that night when I was awakened by those guys who had a bear encounter, I had an easy two mile hike down to the Nantahala River, and the Nantahala Outdoor Center (NOC). The NOC is large complex with a complete outdoors store catering to both backpackers and kayakers/canoers. It straddles both sides of the river and includes a restaurant and lodging. The AT runs right through the middle of it. I didn't spend much time there, stopping only to purchase some repair gear for my backpack, which had been stabbed the day before by a piece of wood. In this part of the country, river ventures are what skiing is to mountain dwellers. Entire families were out there kayaking, etc.

The NOC sits at around 1700 feet in elevation.The next 7.8 miles was all uphill and would bring me to over 5,000 feet. It was an extraordinarily strenuous climb that took most of the day. Someone told me that it was considered one of the toughest days on the trail and I'm inclined to believe that. Unfortunately, it was an overcast day, so I couldn't see much once on top. I walked another 5 or so miles, mostly downhill, before making camp.

Today (Monday, March 28), I faced a 15 mile hike to Fontana Lake/Dam, which sits just before the entrance to Great Smoky Mountains National Park. It's a beautiful area and I'm staying at Fontana Lodge tonight, which offers discounted off-season rates to AT hikers. Except for a steep initial climb, the day's hike was an absolute pleasure compared to yesterday's.

Tomorrow, I will start at 1700 feet and eventually climb to over 5500 feet in the next 18 miles. It will take more than a day to do that.

I'm averaging at least 15 miles per day when on the trail, with a few days over 20. I am getting stronger every day.

My trail name is Downhiller.

Why We Hang Our Food from Trees

Yesterday, Saturday March 26th was a productive day. I walked over 20 miles and spent half the day talking to an interesting 62 year old guy who spent 30 years working at Heavenly Valley Ski Resort at Lake Tahoe as head of the Ski School and then as VP of Operations. He was forced out when Vail bought it and now works as a high end artist building intricate things from wood.

At about eleven last night I was in my tent when I heard what I presumed was a bear. It was thrashing around and breaking sticks, so I yelled and it went away. At one in the morning I heard about four guys loudly coming up the trail. They apologized for making so much noise when they saw my tent and then explained that they were heading down the hill because they had stupidly (their words) left their food in their tent and a bear had torn its way in and taken their food. I'm glad I hung mine from a tree branch, but I didn't sleep that we'll for the rest of the night.

Franklin, NC

This is a quick entry because I'm catching a bus back to the trailhead in a few minutes. I stayed last night at Haven's Budget Inn in the nice little mountain town of Franklin, NC. Haven is the surname of the owner, a great name for an innkeeper. For $40 you get a room in an old motel (clean enough) and a ride to/from the trail in a bus covered with campaign stickers (Mr. Haven is running for County Commissioner). Had I waited another 30 minutes yesterday I could have taken his bus instead of the county bus.

It was a well needed break just to dry everything out. I walked around Franklin yesterday to go food and fuel shopping and it was pleasant. There is a Scottish Highlands museum, so you know what people's roots are here. Anyway, it's back to the trail. No rain today, but 50% chance tomorrow.

Another 57 Miles

It was a nice break in Hiawassee, followed by three straight days on the trail. I hiked from mile 52 to mile 109 (March 22 through March 24th). It was challenging terrain and it rained on the last day (and most of the night).

Milestones are critical to motivation, and this stretch saw me leave Georgia and enter North Carolina. It also saw me complete 5% of the trail when I got a ride into Franklin, NC this morning, after a brief two mile hike to a road junction. Franklin is about 10 miles from the trail, but I read in my guide book that the Macon County Government (Franklin is the county seat) subsidizes bus service for seniors, AT (AppTrail) hikers, etc.

The guidebook said the bus would be at the junction at 9:30, and it was right on time. The cost was only three dollars, and my guide book indicated that exact change was required. The smallest bill I had was a five, but the driver said he always carried plenty of $1 bills just for people like me, so he made change. Southern hospitality. We had a good chat on the way into town, since I was the only rider. He is retired from Hanes Mills and had a hand in weaving the cotton fabric of my favorite Hanes T-shirts over the decades. He pointed out some stunning flowering pear trees that flower only one week a year. I saw them in Georgia too and they are quite beautiful. I took a picture of a stand of them once I settled in town.

The three days on the trail were somewhat rigorous. I met more interesting people, including a Mexican guy, a group of recent college grads from Jersey, an older guy with a wonderfully dispositioned German Shepard, and an Australian woman who looked like she was ready to give up. That was late yesterday, when I came upon the last shelter that I would hit that day. It was 3.6 miles from the main US Highway junction where I eventually caught a bus into Franklin. When I arrived at the shelter I was dismayed to find that all of the usable overflow tent sites (the shelter spots start filling up in the early afternoon - so the late arrivals have to tent) were taken. The Australian woman took the last one. A couple of guys were helping her set up her tent when I arrived and they told me that she had spent the last 45 minutes trying to hitchhike into Franklin with no success. Several cars/trucks passed her right by in the rain. She looked ready to quit when I arrived at the shelter. Hopefully she had a better day today.

I kept going because darkness was only an hour away and found a flat spot on a ridge. The wind and rain were raging all night, but my tent did fairly well. I was at about mile 107, having hit mile 100 after a brutally steep and rocky climb up to Albert Peak. I actually had go put away the trekking poles and climb hand over hand for a little while. Another milestone. I ran into a couple of guys on top of Albert Peak who looked like they were in their late 20's. They asked me when I started the trail and I told them (March 17th). They told me they started on the 13th. As I left them I heard one mutter to the other "We won't see him again."

There is an often used phrase on the trail: "hike your own hike." What that means is that everyone approaches the trail differently, so don't judge the way someone chooses to hike, or try to compare yourself to others. It's you and the trail. I'm beginning to find out what "my hike" is. It starts early, about an hour after sunrise, and ends late, about an hour before sunset, sometimes later. I walk at a moderate pace, but I walk for several more hours each day than a typical hiker. I'm not going to change that; I just like to walk.

My right knee still acts up. It's not getting better but it's not getting worse. Sometimes it's very painful (steep climbs and descents) and sometimes it's fine. I remember reading about a wounded vet or two who completed the trail with a prosthetic leg though and that puts my occasional pain in perspective.

Several people have told me that 25% of the prospective thru hikers (Georgia to Maine) quit within the first 100 miles. No quit here, so maybe my odds just went up a little.

Zero Day

Monday, March 21 was my first "zero" day, and it was much needed. I rested my knee as much as I could and it felt pretty good in my short walks about town. I bought a knee brace and so far it feels OK. However, as I am typing this on Monday evening I can still feel pain. As I noted before, it seems to progress as the day goes on.

My plan is to walk more slowly and for fewer hours each day to take care of my knee. I'm asking my knee to heal while demanding much of it at the same time. I'll know tomorrow and the next day if that is possible. I hope so. I will gladly sacrifice speed to stay on the trail.

Anyway, Hiawassee is a nice little town beside a lake at the foot of the mountains. I ate good "town food" and thoroughly enjoyed the comparative luxury of a motel room. Back to the trail tomorrow.

Up and Down

It never ends: you read about it before you embark on the trail, but you really don't fully understand the vertical nature of this trail until you walk it. The Southern Appalachian Mountains are rough. I've read a few accounts of the trail and the consensus seems to be that the middle section of the trail is the tamest, roughly from Southern Virginia to Vermont, but if you start at either the Southern or Northern terminus (Georgia or Maine), it will be tough going for a while. I'm beginning to understand why.

Morning in the mountains.

The greenery largely disappeared as I moved into bare trees and higher elevations. It will be nice when spring finally makes it up to the hills. The slopes of these Georgia mountains are remarkably steep; you would not want to wander off trail in many places.

The wind picked up on Saturday (March 19th) and the temperature started to fall a little. I took a break at Neel Gap for an hour. It's famous as the first "stop" along the trail. Some quit here. There is a bunkhouse, a store with a remarkably good selection of whatever a backpacker might need, and an old tree out front with hundreds of pairs if boots thrown into the branches by people who either quit the trail there or gave up on their boots. I stayed for about an hour and took a shower ($5 with towel) and headed on up the trail. I met some interesting people there though, including a guy who has an enormous tattoo of a Kitchen Aid mixer on his calf. He had an excuse though; he got it while in culinary school. I met another guy there who sported a long beard, wool leggings and a green plaid kilt. All kinds.

I hiked a few more miles past Neel Gap before pitching the tent on a ridge. It was very windy all night and by morning the temperature was near freezing. I hit the trail early and had my longest day yet, 18 miles. I walked for a while with a guy who had recently left the Marine Corps and we had a good chat. We all heard through the grapevine that snow and even colder temperatures were on their way, so I pushed on to Unicoi Gap, where I could catch a ride into Hiawassee, where I had planned on taking a break in town anyway. In trail parlance it's called a "zero day," as in zero miles. I really needed to rest my knee, since the pain was quite persistent that afternoon.

The First Few Days

About 2 minutes before I started hiking.

It's been an eventful few days so far. I started at the Amicalola State Park Visitors' Center at around 10:00 am on Thursday, March 17th.

If you start there, you have to endure a grueling 8.8 mile hike on the approach trail (the first mile is the worst) up to the summit of Springer Mountain, Georgia, the official southern terminus of the Appalachian Trail. About half start there, and the other half get a ride via a forest service road up to within a mile of the official start point. I chose the former. Although I regretted it at the time, it was quite character building. Of the people I've met on the trail, all who have done the approach trail were glad they did. I've met a few that didn't that sort of wish they had, just for the experience.

The Summit of Springer Mountain is less than awe-inspiring. There is a fair view and a few bronze plaques which I almost missed, but otherwise pretty ho-hum. I've seen better views in New Jersey. The next five or six miles were spectacular though, leading through incredibly tall old pine trees and rhododendrons, paralleling a nice mountain stream. I camped in a nice spot in the pines, next to a stream after walking about 13 miles that day.

If you want to keep your food you have to hang it in a bear bag, suspended from a tree branch. You put a rock in a small nylon bag, attach it to a cord, and throw it over a vertical tree branch about 15 feet in the air. You then attach your food bag and haul it up and tie the free end off. It generally works with all but the most cunning bears.

It wasn't bears I had to worry about, but rodents. I forgot about a zip lock bag, partially filled with trail mix that I left in one of the hip belt pockets of my backpack. A rodent chewed through the nylon pocket, the plastic bag, and ate every nut, raisin and M&M. Lesson learned.

I woke up early the next day, determined to cover even more ground than on day 1. I began to develop a healthy respect for the North Georgia mountains. They can be very steep and rocky.  While there were a few smooth sections of relatively flat terrain, these were the exception. By the end of the day I had traversed 16 miles. I noticed toward the end of the day that my right knee was beginning to hurt, particularly on downhills, but I didn't give it much thought. I was just excited to be on the trail.

Mostly bare deciduous trees, but pockets of green make for spectacular hiking.

Gearing Up

I fly to Atlanta tomorrow (March 15th) and I plan on starting the hike on the 17th.  It's roughly 2180 miles from Springer Mountain, Georgia to Mount Katahdin, Maine.  Here is what I will be carrying on my back:

It looks like a lot of stuff, but it weighs in at a base weight of right around 19 pounds, which is below my goal of 20 pounds.  Base weight means everything but food and water, but includes the weight of empty water containers.  It includes the following:

-Pack, ULA Circuit, internal frame
-Sleeping Bag, Western Mountaineering Sycamore down bag, 25 degree
-Dry bag for sleeping bag
-Sleeping Pad, Exped UL7 (large/wide)
-Pump for Sleeping Pad, Exped - doubles as dry bag for clothes
-Foam pad, 1/4 inch, Gossamer Gear
-Snowpeak Trek 900 pot/lid - titanium
-Full canister of fuel - 220 grams
-Snowpeak Gigapower stove
-MSR folding spork
-Snowpeak 450 ml insulated titanium  mug
-Pack towel
-Tarptent Sublite Sil one-man tent (supported by trekking poles)
-Sawyer Squeeze water fitration system
-Three 500 ml plastic water bottles
-1.8 liter and 2 liter collapsible plastic canteens
-Headlamp
-Personal hygiene items (sunscreen, soap, toothbrush, etc.)
-First Aid kit (fairly comprehensive, a little bigger than what most thru-hikers carry)
-Clothing bag, including rain gear, long underwear, spare socks, wool hat, sun hat, down jacket.
-Gloves
-Samsung S5 Smartphone, w/charger & spare battery
-Kindle Paperwhite
-Wallet/Passport
-Pack rain cover
-Food bag with 50 feet of cord/carabiner for bear bag hanging

Not included:  Clothes/boots I'll be wearing and trekking poles

I'm quite happy to be under 20 pounds for my base weight, since food for 5 days (the longest stretch without resupply I'll be facing) plus a liter of water will put me right around 32 pounds.  My lightweight pack is rated up to 35 pounds, and I've carried around that for miles while training up for this hike, but I much prefer 30 or less.  I may be ditching an item or two, or swapping a few things out for lighter substitutes, but I am fairly close to where I want to be.  Much of the core equipment (pack, sleeping bag, tent, stove, pot, etc. is stuff that I've used for years and trust).  I don't intend to ditch it without good reason.

OK, enough about equipment.

More tomorrow, and the next day, and .......

Why Hike the Trail?

It all started back in New Jersey. My Dad loved to camp and he instilled that love in me. I remember loading our gear into the canoes at the lake to camp in the hemlock grove on the other side with our cousins and others. The campfires, marshmallows, ghost stories, and midnight fishing in the canoe with bats flying everywhere are just a few of the things I remember fondly about those trips. And, of course, the magnificent old hemlock trees that have now disappeared due to disease.

That's how I learned to enjoy camping. The Boy Scouts added to that love by combining walking and camping (backpacking).  My dad was the assistant scout master of our troop, and he and the other leaders were all World War II vets who loved the outdoors.  We spent many weekends hiking and camping throughout Northern NJ and Southeastern NY.  Those trips included the Appalachian Trail. I was hooked, even though we used incredibly crude, heavy, and uncomfortable equipment back then, since that was pretty much all there was. I still recall one of first troop backpacking trips in which we carried canvas tents, axes, etc.  The hike was brutal, but worth it, because at the end of the hike we got to camp!

When I was around 14 I read a book written by a man named Steven Garvey, who was one of the rare people (back then) who had hiked the entire Appalachian Trail without stopping. It was a great read and it inspired me to want do do the same. I believe he was in his 50,s when he did it.

Well, fast forward 40+ years and I'm in my 50's. Why not do it? I finally have the time, the means, and I'm still healthy enough. Let's see how it goes.

Thank you Jackie, for supporting my (some would say crazy) dream!