A Walk in the Smokies
Posted on December 9th, 2009 by admin
The first and most delicious brew. Only Guiness can quench a 4 month thirst. My mountain man kudzu beard came in nicely. I wouldn’t be in the woods long enough to grow one on the trail so I decided to start ahead of time for ambiance.
About 10 hours later after some amazing switchback mountain driving in the middle of the night on the edge of starvation we managed to find a last breakfast before we hit the trail.
Back to where “lost road” intersected the highway. Honestly, not really lost. We knew where we were. We just didn’t know where food was.
Fat, Happy, Fresh Legs, Clean Clothes, Full Packs, and wearing every scrap of clothing that would go on. It was roughly 40F at the trail head. It was over 100 when I left work just shy of a week before this. This could take some adjustment.
I really don’t know how to explain that we only covered 3 miles all day except to say that we couldn’t make it 10 feet without being overtaken with the majesty of the scenic vistas.
I had never seen the like of the forests. Just one giant rotting compost heap. Everything constantly growing and decaying right in and out of each other. No real “floor” to speak of. More like a dry bog about a foot thick.
Toting saws and numbers they felled whole trees and grabbed everything that would burn within half a mile and piled it all into one of the worst fires I could ever imagine someone burning. Roughly enough energy to take a rocket halfway to the moon barely kept a square foot in front of the chimney warm. But watching the drunken calamity that ensued as the night went on kept the laughter up and the cold at bay.
Above is one of the few pictures of the mysterious “Patagonia”. A multi thru-hiker who carries less into the woods than I carry to work. But that won’t stop him from bumming some TP from us short-timers.
“Yep…” “Uh Huh…”
Ahhh Immortal and Timeless words.
Oh sure I look happy…but that’s just because I’m told if I get moving I will regain feeling in my extremities.
Where I learned the very valuable lesson that Fire FIGHTERS are not Fire STARTERS. Dad was happy to sit back, be cold, and laugh. Having been unable to wiggle anything in my boots in the last 24 hours, this IT guy decided to show them how to get warm in a hurry.
“Danger! Bears are active in this area. Attacks on humans have occured inflicting serious injuries and death.”
“Meh” – Dad
Apparently a very famous tunnel o’ sticks. Remnants of a crashed Cessna litter the slope below this area.
The problem with the GPS was that we really always knew where we were. The only thing we ever wanted to know was how much further we had to go and it only served to confuse our trail hypnotized minds.
“What?” – Dad
“Bear!” – Me
We were very lucky. We had a pretty steady wind blowing straight at us concealing our scent and out noise from the little cutie.
It dawned on my that we should probably have a plan. I had this cartoon image in my head of dad and I knocking each other out by running into each other attempting to flee should he decide to come cuddle.
“So….What do we do when he gets here?” – Me
“Meh….make some noise he’ll go away” – Dad
“How much you think he weighs?” – Me
“300…350 maybe? good and fat for winter” – Dad
“I can take em!” – Me
“You go ahead…it’ll give me time to run” – Dad
But seriously….it was amazing how he just slipped off that saddle and down through the underbrush without a sounds. No leaves rustling, no twigs snapping, absolutely eerie.
I was happiest to see the privy. I had no idea how much till we came in site of the camp. My system had been keeping secrets from me all day apparently.
The last night on the trail we had the shelter to ourselves. I found a stick someone had lovingly whittled for what must have been ages. I don’t know how they managed to find such a perfect stick and then leave it behind but the knobby top formed to my hand so perfectly I decided against good taste to take it as my souvenir.
The area had been picked clean of good burning material by previous hikers. So I stumbled my way down the slope and grabbed the best of what I could find.
The pictures can’t do justice to the slope. Dragging even those meager sitcks back up to the shelter on that insane incline was nearly the end of me. Perhaps the altitude and the last few days of hiking had robbed me of my reserves but by the time it was over I wouldn’t need a fire that night.
Our last night called for a celebration. I unveiled my surprise that I had been lugging for the last few days. A nice flask of fine Kentucky sippin bourbon. I have to tell you. The added warmth and tingle of a few good swigs was a welcome addition to the evening. It must be added however that I could have carried a gallon of the hooch for the weight of that flask! I managed to make a pretty light pack and it was probably half of it!
Awakened by mice skittering across my face and down my bag I decided to catch t he little buggers in action. I failed.
This is supposed to protect your bags from the mice. It only seemed to give them a central location to find everything. I liked one theory I heard from a hiker a few days back. He would set out a net back of toilet tissue each night. He said he gave the mice something to tear at instead of his stuff and swore it kept them off his stuff.
Honestly I have to say that the best part of the trail is the simple certainty of your days. The customary saying when parting a friend in King’s “Gunslinger” series “Long Days and Pleasant Nights” never really made sense till I had the absolute certainty of my purpose upon waking each day for a few days. The utter calm that comes from knowing without thinking every moment that you are doing exactly what is the best possible thing to be doing that moment had to be the closest feeling of Zen I’ve ever experienced. There is no “rushing through the day” to get to anything.
At first it’s a need based decision. You have to walk or you will run out of food. But walking also keeps you warm. Walking makes the pain from the previous days walking go away. Walking brings you to the new sights. Eventually the answer to everything is “keep walking”. If we all just took one step in front of the other kept moving we would all be so much further ahead in every aspect of life. So simple, but so hard to remember sometimes.
The last few miles were downhill. Halfway down the mountain and I am in just my base-layer for the first time since the drive up.
I can’t shake the quiet. The roar of even this meager little stream fills all the recently silenced corners of my mind.
“Smells like….VICTORY!” Sticks held aloft with what little migth we could muster. We poured into the truck and headed southward to home.
Dad, Thanks again for letting me tag along. My first multi-day trip into the woods without a canoe planted the seeds of what I hope to be a new hobby of mine. This taste of the AT gave me wonderful delusions of actually thru-hiking it one day. The big question now is how can I make money from hiking and scuba diving? There isn’t enough time for a job in between the two.