We have reached the 175 mile mark here in Hot Springs, with less than 2000 miles to go! There is only one problem; Hot Springs is a little hotter than usual, as there is a forest fire in the vicinity of the northbound trail leading out of town. I thought I left the Smokies behind me, but that was not entirely true! There are helicopters, planes with fire retardants, and ground fighters 'hot shots' here to fight the blaze which started under suspicious circumstances. From town you can see smoke from time to time, and 2600 acres of scorched hillsides above the town. Three theories are postulated: 1, a group of hikers stealth camping by the river started a campfire then left to go to town for a night on the town , and the fire got away into the surrounding woods. 2, a group of anarchist 'rainbow' hippie hikers (a real thing apparently) started the fire. 3, Last Wednesday there was a drunk hiker who was accosted by the local gendarme and at the conclusion of this interaction, the hiker was heard to say 'I'm going to burn your town to the ground!' The hikers have their own theory which is that the fire was started by the local merchants to boost sales. All theories are being actively investigated by the local authorities.
In any case, I am taking a 'zero' day today, buying new shoes and resting for the next section of the hike. Tomorrow I'll be bused to Allen Gap via a shuttle to get around the burn zone, missing 15 miles of the trail. I am staying ant the Sunnyside Inn, run by Elmer, who hiked the trail in 1978, then returned here and bought the Victorian mansion and converted it to the hostel. I stayed in the Earl Schafer room, the first person to thru-hike in 1948, and repeated the hike in 1998 at age 80. He stayed both times in Hot Springs in the room I am now enjoying. After his first hike, the ATC did not believe him or that a thru-hike was even possible. He actually had to give a slide presentation to ATC to prove his claim! What a trend-setter, with now more than 5000 people starting an intended thru-hike. ATC never sent Earl the 2000 miler patch the first time though.
As I have mentioned before hiking the trail is like taking a ride on a cruise liner... well not really but they seem to both have a perennial problem with Norovirus. This is a nasty bug the gives severe heaves, vomiting and diarrhea for 24-48 hrs. It has reappeared for the last 5-6 years on the AT and spreads north with the bubble of hikers. Donna my hostess at Cabin in the Woods, had picked up several prostrate hikes in Fontana and brought them to the resort to be housed and watched. She called me the morning of my shuttle to let me know that she too had been infected, and I might be at risk. Despite breaking bread with her at her dinner table on several occasions I can happily report that so far I have escaped the contagion.
In any case her worker transported me to Asheville where I picked up the rental car and drove to Black Mountain and my dinner with the Galloways. As for all new parents, they looked a little tired from sleep deprivation ; the visit, movie viewing, and meal was wonderful. AT, The Long Journey is fantastic and an excellent depiction of the rigors one goes through to complete a thru-hike.
The following day, I drove the 7 hours to D.C. along the highways and made a startling observation. I curse far less at the young hikers who overtake me and cut me off on the AT, than I do in the car at drivers who display similar patterns of behavior. The meeting with ACG went well, and it was great to catch up with friends and now extended family. I thought that 7 days off the trail would do a world of good for my aching feet. Kathy and I with her friend Tracey, drove me back to the trail at Fontana after a brief visit with her family in Wilson, NC.
Kathy dropped me on the trail on April 19th back at the Fontana Dam, and we said our goodbyes. I will say that leaving her for extended periods is perhaps the greatest challenge of this hike. The weather was cool and beautiful as I entered the Smokies. A little yearling fawn came across my path within 15' and brought me to a standstill, and created an excellent Kodak moment. We kept the mileage the first day down to 14. That first night was beautiful with moon and stars. There was no need for a headlamp for the 2AM pee break! I did notice though that the feet were as sore and numb as ever despite the rest, with some of the pain stemming from plantar fasciitis, and neuropathy from my first thru-hike.
The following day I hiked within 7 miles of Clingman's Dome, at 6441, the highest point on the AT, and second highest mountain in the Appalachians behind Mt. Mitchell, also in North Carolina (Washington is a distant third!). With each hour that passed with hiking, the problem with my feet seemed to compound. Despite the new inserts, this did not seem to be a tenable situation if I expected to finish the trail. The only long term solution might be amputation, but trail surgeons are hard to come by. I called Kathy and actually made the arrangements to have her meet me at Newfound Gap the following day for pick-up. I felt at that moment that I needed to terminate the hike.
After speaking with her, I noted that my feet were much improved once I removed the boots and donned my Crocs. I texted her the next morning and told her to cancel the rescue mission and that I would make my way through the rest of the Smokies to Hot Springs, and there get new shoes and see where that left me and my feet; hopefully somewhere other than in the middle of nowhere unable to take another step. I am happy to say things have slowly improved day by day to 'tolerable'.
I called Kathy from the summit of Clingman's to confirm the new plan and admitted that I also swallowed my pride as well as 3 ibuprofen, which may have helped as well. The view from the mountain tower was beautiful. Unlike most mountains in the south which even at 550' are covered with hardwoods like White Oak, Clingman's is covered with pine trees. I spent most of the morning walking the ridgeline listening to the whispering pines and smelling that wonderful smell, thinking that this could easily be a ridge back in Maine. I was at Newfound Gap by 1:30; where I was greeted by hoards of tourists with cars, but no obvious trail magic. I sat down and painfully munched on my Builder Bar (ahh.. never again!). I was out of water, and despite the fact there were flush toilets at the gap, the only way I could conceivably refill my Camelback would have been to filter/pump water from the toilet... no potable water! So the last three miles to Icewater shelter were very thirsty, but fortunately the shelter lived up to it's name with a beautiful spring of ice cold water. I washed my head and torso with in a brief effort to clean myself with a PTA wash, and immediately began to shiver from hypothermia, driving me into my warmer clothes. That evening, a group of young hikers brought up three pounds of hot dogs with buns and mustard given to them by a gentleman who wanted to set up a trail magic dispensary, but was denied by the rangers. We set a fire, and had a weenie roast. It is amazing how much one is willing to compromise usual values and practices on the trail due to starvation. On any other given day, I wouldn't give a hot dog a second look, but after 4 days in the wilderness, it tasted like filet mignon.
The next day some were up before dawn. Using the red light function on their headlamps made them look like aliens carefully assessing and packing gear while the rest of us slept. That day was wonderful hiking the northern razorbacks of the Smokies. There long gentle assents to narrow 'catwalks' between the sharp peaks. The trail at times was no more than two to three feet wide, with a sharp downslope on either side at 50'-60'. Most of these peaks were also pine covered and took me back to home in Maine. I spent a good portion of the day hiking with 'Hopper', a thirty something who had spent three semesters in Orono at the University and had spent some time at Schoodic catalogueing birds on the islands. I also hiked with Pterodactyl, a very humorous retired EMT from Hooksett NH, who was renamed by some of the other hikers, beer-o-dactyl. We arrived after 20 miles at Crosby Knob shelter, to one of the most crowded, (and bear infested), campsites to date. There was an ATC ridge runner there to direct people where to camp with a full shelter. With the prospect of heavy rain that night, I was not pleased with the option of camping and fortunately for me, the ridge-runner took pity on the elderly and squeezed the shelter inhabitants space just a little to allow for my entry. That night did bring rough storms and thunder storms. The rain had ceased by the following day, and allowed me to venture the .6 mile off trail to the fire tower on Mt. Cammert, purported to give one of the most spectacular views of the Smokies. The mountains to the south were not visible but Davenport gap was beautiful with advancing undercast. I watched as the fog crept up the mountain and finally engulfed us. With that, it began to pour, and continued to do so for the rest of the day on the hike down to Davenport Gap. When it's a warm rain, I'll usually keep my clothes dry and wear only the tennis ball yellow running shirt and running shorts. At one point I was overtaken by young hikers who had donned their rain parkas and pants. As they passed, one asked me how it was I was not using any rain gear. My reply was that I was multi-tasking, which elicited a quizzical look. I explained I was taking a shower, washing my clothes, and hiking at the same time. They just smiled and wished me a good hike.
I fortunately reached Standing Bear hiker hostel around 1PM, just as the rain came to an end. The hostel was one of my favorite stops nine years ago, but with the death of the first owner Curtis from pancreatic cancer last year, the place was being managed by one of his friends 'Lumpy', who did not appears to care for hikers or take an active interest in keeping the place in good repair. I tried to joke around with Lumpy on one or two occasions, but was stopped cold in my tracks. He reportedly screamed a hiker for taking his picture, with the comment 'how do you know there are no wanted criminals here?' Not a friendly guy and the place was trashed. I did a full sink-load of dishes (leave a place better than what you found it, boy scout motto #99).
The next day out of Davenport was cool and foggy for most of the day with a threat of rain. We made our way back up to 5800 feet and over several balds. By the time I reached Max Patch, the view had cleared and was magnificent. At the bottom of the bald, we met a group of campers, 'hiker-Trash, 2014 reunion', a group of thru-hikers from 2014 who came back to give a weekend of trail magic. I enjoyed a helping of beans and chips with soda as a break for lunch. Nice people who really impressed me with their love of the trail and their desire to 'pass it on down', the kindness they too had been shown on their hike. Truly humbling!
I did push on to finish my second 20 mile day that day to Walnut Mountain. I was the only one to stay in the ancient mouse-infested shelter, as everyone else set up a tent. After initial fruitless investigations in the early evening though, the mice left me alone the rest of the night. The shelter is located near another small bald and afforded incredible images at sunset and sunrise. Here I met a father-daughter pair from old stomping grounds of Woodsville NH. He was also a retired EMT, and she was a ward secretary at Cottage Hospital.
The following day I made the final 13 mile trek here, along the way climbing another 800' over Bluff Mountain and more spectacular views of the valleys below and the mountain to come to the north. So here we are enjoying a day of relaxation, allowing for this next installment. Until next time...?
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