Author: turndoozie

I’m in a coffee shop in Dalesville, VA, the second day of a “double zero”, meaning two consecutive days of no hiking.

Doing a zero every humdred miles or so is a good idea. Gives your body a chance to rest and heal up a bit. There’s also a ton of logistics to get done. Planning the next hundred miles or so, equipment repair or replacement, food resupply, blog updates, maybe some personal hygiene. After a few days on the trail all hikers tend to start having the same, shall we say, aroma. Since we’re all in the same olfactory condition, you tend to numb out and it doesn’t seem too bad. Until a fly lands on you and dies. About then you should start planning for a zero day.

A double zero was really needed right now. The 95 miles from Pearisburg to Dalesville were tough. For starters, it got hot and humid. Major energy sucking heat and humidity. Elevation gains were not much different than other parts of the AT, but the rocks seemed to be especially nasty. Like the rocks have little hidden hands that reach out to grab you. There were a few places where the term “trail” seemed a bit generous. This section of trail included features like the Dragon’s Tooth, McAfee Knob, the place where Audie Murphy’s airplane couldn’t quite make it over the mountain, and the Eastern Continental Divide.

Yes, this is the “trail”. Trail? What trail? We don’t need no stinking trail.

Up on the Dragon’s Tooth.

The Eastern Continental Divide. So now all our blood, sweat, and tears flow into the Atlantic Ocean instead of the Gulf of Mexico.

The Audie Murphy Memorial.

McAfee Knob, one of the AT high points, both literally and figuratively.

I have referred to the AT as a linear community. Which makes communications interesting, especially with sometimes no cell connectivity.

I’ve been hiking in a “bubble” of hikers that includes Shocktop, Red Beard, his father The Wiz, my original trail family consisting of Gunner, Cash Money, Robin Hood, Crusher, and Sponge Bob, as well as a few other bit players. We see each other along the trail or at places hikers congregate such as the motel where we are all doing zeros. So messages, information, and gossip get passed up and down the trail haphazardly.

For the past couple weeks I’ve been zeroing, camping, and planning primarily with Shocktop. On this stretch into Dalesville she was having some problems with the heat and a general malaise. Wednesday we started over 23 miles away from Dalesville. We started Wednesday thinking we would be camping another night then getting into Dalesville Thursday morning. She made is motel reservations for Thursday night. I had to stop to filter water and she ended up about 20 minutes ahead of me. Apparently, about mile 15 she decided to make it all the way in. I passed another hiker and he asked if I was Steady Eddie. When I affirmed I was he said, “the lady ahead of you said she changed the motel reservations and you have to make it into Dalesville tonight.” Thus I was I formed that I would be doing a 23+ mile day, my longest to date.

Shocktop.

I have finally seen my first bear this trip. And the warm weather has brought out more of the cold blooded representatives of the animal kingdom.

Blue racer.

Water snake.

Fence lizard.

I’m in Pearisburg, VA, where Confederate troops defeated Union soldiers commanded by Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes. Who went on to bigger and better things like the presidency.

There’s always a sign when they wupped up on the Yankees.

I’m taking a zero (no hiking) day. My most recent hiking partner, Kris (Shocktop), and I came in yesterday thinking we would do one night here. She wasn’t feeling well so decided to layover a day. Good call on her part. Woke to looking at lightning hitting the hills we would have been walking.

View from the motel.

It’s been a while since I last posted. Some of the delay is technology related. Connectivity is always an issue. Sometimes just getting enough cell service to send a text is a major accomplishment, yet alone internetd connectivity that allows photo uploads. And then there’s my general ineptness with cell phones.

Another issue that has surprised me is just having time to write. Especially as my daily mileage has increased. I’m reminded of the the old Far Side cartoon showing a T Rex daily planner. Every day was “Kill something, eat it”. My on trail daily routine is; wake up, break camp, walk, eat something, walk some more, set up camp, sleep. Generally I don’t make breakfast, I just eat some breakfast bars while breaking camp. Instead of stopping for lunch, I eat constantly while walking. We try to do 12 – 15 miles by say 3:00 – 4:00, then we stop at a shelter to prepare the evening meal. After that roughly hour long break, we hike to a campsite and set up our tents and hang our food bags out of bear reach. Then it’s crawl into bed, maybe take some notes, plan tomorrow’s route, then go to sleep. Then repeat.

Even town or hostel days aren’t much better for posting. Planning resupply and the next week or so of hiking eats up the time. Even when in civilization, connectivity is an issue. Some of these small rural towns have very limited or no connectivity. One gets better cell reception up on the mountains and ridges than in the towns.

I’ve covered a lot of ground, both literally and mentally, since my last post. Right now l’m at mile 636, over 1/4 of the to Mt. Katahdin. I have now walked through parts of Georgia, North Carolina, Tennessee, and now I’m solidly in Virginia.

Quarter way marker.

Six-hundred mile marker.

There’s more to covering ground than mileage and the trail isn’t just a walk in the woods. Sure there may be miles of walking through the same forest type, what’s termed “the green tunnel”. But, there’s a surprising amount of variety in terms of weather, trail conditions, terrain, ecological systems, wildlife, and plants. There really is no “one” Appalachian Trail. Rather it is a continuously varying mosaic of biotic and abiotic components. That includes an endless variety of people, both hikers and nonhikers that one encounters. That’s the subject of a different post.

These are all the same “trail”.

Some of the landscapes.

Some of the flora and fauna.

Here’s the fauna interacting with humans.

Semi wild pony licking my salty legs.

This is what happens when a bear gets someone’s food bag (not mine). Thirteen hanging bags were grabbed from trees in one night in this area.

I’m still at Uncle Johnny’s but I did what is called a slack pack day. The hostel shuttled 10 of us to a point 12 trail miles north of here. We walked back to the hostel carrying only snacks, water, and rain gear. Which, I might add, was needed.

I did the 12 miles in a bit less than four hours, including some stops to take pictures. Quite nice hiking with a five pound pack instead of a 35 pound pack. Tomorrow, those of us moving on will be shuttled up to where we started today to head north.

Fiddle heads in the rain.

Mushrooms in the rain.

Squaw root, not in the rain.

A stream I walked by, both in and out of the rain.

I met someone who is taking the concept of slack packing to a new level. He was injured in a car accident a few years ago so he can’t haul a large pack for very long. So he started at Springer Mountain with two cars. He left one at Springer and drove the second car to a road/trail junction a day hike north of Springer, parked, then walked back south to the car at Springer. Once he got there he drove the car at Springer to a point a day north of the other vehicle. Then he did a day hike back to that vehicle. Then he repeats the process. He has done about 350 miles, walking south, but moving north. He sometimes has to camp, but he can keep his pack weight real low. Doesn’t have to worry about resupply or lodging because he’s rarely more than a day hike from a vehicle. Not sure what he will do when he gets to Katadyhen. Maybe just abandon one vehicle. Pretty interesting way to do the whole trail when you can’t backpack.

I am at Uncle Johnny’s hostel/commune in Erwin, TN. Mile 344 or so. On the banks of the Nolichucky River.

The Nolichucky River.

Uncle Johnny’s, a well known AT hostel.

There’s been some fairly rough terrain getting here. What constitutes a trail is apparently open to discussion.

Trail? What trail? We don’t need no stinking trail.

I did my second 20 miler yesterday, and felt pretty good. So good I’m celebrating with a can of House Wine, from Walmart. I’m not quite sure if this is a high point or low point in my life.

My happy toes, comfy in their toe socks after 20 miles.

Walmart’s house wine. A fine pretentious vintage.

The hostels along the trail are, shall we say, interesting. Part hostel, part commune. It’s like some people check in and never bother to check out. When you’re walking the trail everything is stretched out and linear. You really can’t get a feel for the slice of humanity that’s doing the trail. Then they gather at a hostel. Works both ways. I’m sure I appear a bit odd to some of them. I do want to go on record to say that there is no stereotypical thru hiker. Well except maybe oder. After a day or two you can’t tell any of us apart. At least with the weather warning up there is some ability to clean up without getting hypothermia.

Painting a mural around the soda machine.

The bus\camper used to shuttle us to the local Mexican restaurant and Walmart.

A lot has happened since my last post. I made it through the Smokies, but it wasn’t easy. The Smokies are tough if you’re thru hiking. You’re limited on where you can camp, the terrain can be rugged, and the weather downright nasty. April 14^th I did 12 miles in some of the nastiest weather I’ve ever been in. Rain and hail, constant 35 mph winds, and temps in the 40s. I made it past Clingman’s Dome, the highest point on the Appalachian Trail. One would think it was all downhill from there but, nooooo, I’m thinking Appalachian is a Cherokee word for “always steep uphill”.

The tower at Clingman’s Dome, highest point on the AT. I didn’t bother going up for the view since there was no view.

The trail in the rain, on the lee side of Clingman’s Dome. One of the few respites from the wind.

I got into Newfound Gap wet, cold, and tired, thinking I could get a ride the 15 miles into Gatlinburg to get out of the weather. Lucky me, the National Park Service closed the road from Newfound Gap into Gatlinburg and Cherokee, without bothering to have anything posted anywhere in the parking area. I had made it to the bathroom to get out of the weather to call for a ride and was informed by a shuttle driver the place was closed down. I knew there was hiker behind me and after a while I went back out to flag him down. His phone wasn’t working so he was waiting for a car to come by so he could hitchhike into Gatlinburg. I think he was close to hypothermia. We spent a night in the bathroom where at least we were out of the wind and rain. I met people that ended up in the bathroom at Clingman’s Dome, and some other people had to be rescued due to hypothermia. Turns out this is a common occurrence early in the season and these bathrooms are well established as bad weather shelters.

The ice that greeted us in the morning.

The next day the road opened, and we got a ride down into Gatlinburg. If you ever have the chance to visit there, don’t. Gatlinburg is essentially a four-mile strip of highway with the sole purpose of separating you from your money in the tackiest ways possible. Tourist schtick at its finest. The heathens don’t even serve scrapple at breakfast.

I spent a day there drying out and getting reorganized, then punched through the Smokies in another two days. It took me five days of hiking to get through, Which, isn’t too bad considering National Park Service gives you eight days on your back country pass to get through.

The Smokies are beautiful, and way more rugged and unpredictable than people think. When the road to Newfound Gap opened the temperatures were in the 30s, wind was still blowing hard, and clouds of snow blowing up the valleys. Tourists from Gatlinburg, 15 miles away but 4,000 feet lowered in elevation, were hopping out of their cars in sandals and T-shirts. They would run to the edge of the parking lot, snap a quick picture, then jump back in the car.

The Smokies were not what I would call fun to walk through, but they are impressive. The elevation differences and the remoteness of portions of the Smokies make it a biological treasure. Wildflowers were popping out and trees at lower elevations starting to leaf out. I saw at least six species of trillium. This is the first time I’ve ever seen a hillside blanked with spring beauties. This would be a great area to explore with a real camera sometime.

Views of the Smokies. I walked those hills.

Typical small stream crossing the trail.

All the white spots are spring beauties.

Trillium.

Bugs.

Snake, unknown species.

Icicles, two days after my bathroom camp-out, and temperatures around 60 degrees. This is called micro-climate.

After the Smokies it took me a couple days to get into Hot Springs North Carolina, where Lise met me for a couple days. As with everything on the AT, nothing is easy. Seeing some ugly weather developing about when I would be getting into Hot Springs, I did an 18-mile day, followed by my first 20-mile day to minimize the miles I would be walking in thunderstorms. I was the last person that got into Walnut Mountain shelter, 14 miles outside Hot Springs. Everyone after me had to tent. About 5:00 AM, the sky opened up. I did a seven-hour, 14 mile walk into Hot Springs. There was another day of rain, and snow showers at night, but I was safely tucked into an Airbnb Lise booked. I took yesterday completely off to organize for the next couple weeks, and today was a slack pack day. Lise took me ten miles up the trail with just water and snacks and I hiked back into Hot Springs. Tomorrow she will drop me off at that ten-mile pint and I start hiking back north.

The flood stage French Broad River, flooding the trail near Hot Springs. The trail goes between the trees and the water. two days ago it was about eight inches higher.

I have lots more to write about, like the people one meets on the trail, trail magic, logistics, and some other topics. These will all need to wait until the next time I can do a post.

I made it to Fontana Dam, one of the TVA projects to bring civilization in the form of electricity and bass fishing to the rural south.

You know you’re in the South…… I’m staying at the Hike Inn which is in the last dry county in NC. As the owner said, “people around here don’t like change”.

I’m at mile 164, and start the Smokies tomorrow. Spring has exploded around here. For you birders, the warblers are heading your way.

Water flowing off a leaf. Seemed to Lothlarian to pass up.

The view when not in the rain.

The view when in the rain.

The shelter I managed to get to before the sky opened up.

This little river is the trail from the shelter to the privy.

Weather and trail conditions have conspired to give me a fairly easy run from Franklin to the Nantahala Outdoor Center, or the NOC. Knowing the weather was going bad I rushed to the shelter, beating out a couple older ladies so I didn’t have to set up in the rain. It’s a survival thing. We can divvie up their food if they don’t make it. Calories are calories.

The walk from the shelter down into the NOC was a six mile, sometimes rugged downhill run. With some views that show what it’s all about.

I have a lot to write about but the technology and connectivity make it difficult. Plus I hate doing things on a cell phone.

A couple markers have passed since I last posted. I have crossed my first State line, going from Georgia into North Carolina. While in NC, I passed the 100 mile mark. So, maybe 5% of the trail done. And we sold our house so now I’m officially homeless.

The border.

100 miles.

Being on the trail is good practice for being homeless. Most of the hostels, motels, and outfitters have hiker boxes. People leave extra gear and food in the boxes. Especially people quitting the trail. You just rummage around for whatever you may need. I scored a full propane fuel canister at Mountain Crossings and a package of beef jerky here at the motel yesterday.

It’s a good idea to take what is called a zero day every 100 miles or so. I’m in Franklin NC, at about mile 110. Franklin is known as a Trail Town. I’ll do another post on trail towns, but basically they are hiker friendly towns. Businesses and individuals really support the hiker community.

Franklin is where many take their first zero day. And a fair number of hikers drop out. One metric I heard was that between the two major access points of Neel’s Gap (Mountain Crossings) and Franklin there’s a 25% dropout rate. One-fourth the starters have quit already.

It’s understandable I guess. This isn’t the picnic some think it will be. When I left the Mountain Crossings hostel at Neel’s Gap it was in the 30s, foggy, and 25 mph winds were blowing ice off the trees. I did 16 miles in those conditions, spent a 32 degree night in a tent, followed by another 16 mile day, followed by an 8 mile day into the Top of Georgia hostel. After one night with indoor plumbing it was another two 16 mile days, and a rainy 8 miler into Franklin. Not easy walking either. This is some beautiful but rugged country. Not the walk in the woods that some expect.

Leaving a foggy Mountain Crossings where the trail literally goes through the building.

Typical hostel bunk room.

The terrain

Hanging things out to dry at the Franklin Budget Inn. Right across the street from Baltimore Jack’s hostel and outfitters

This is being done from a cell phone which is a something of a painful operation. So forgive any grammatical or punctuation errors.

I’m at the Mountain Crossings outfitter and hostel at Neel’s Gap, Georgia, thirty-one miles into the trail. Fourth day on the trail. This is the first major stop and the first cut for those tlhinking twice about this little endeavor.

Boots hanging from the tree in front of Mountain Crossings.

Today was an easy one, Got in about 10:00 AM this morning after a walk over Blood Mountain, highest point in Georgia.

Views from Blood Mountain.

The group I spent Hawk Mountain shelter has caught up with me. Including the survivalist dudes with knives and spears. No joke. And the loud Australian woman. Sigh.

Wood’s Hole shelter where I stayed last night to avoid the starting crowd circus and the spring I used for water.

I’m only doing a half day today so I can take a shower, clean some clothes and do some planning. Plus, there’s supposed to be thunder storms tonight. May as well hunker down in a building. I need to guess how long it will take to go the next 40 miles to my next supply. I can live a day off trail mix but I would rather not.

The walk into here over Blood Mountain wasn’t too bad. I was kind of underwhelmed really. Highest point in Georgia. A good climb, but nothing worse than an average ridge climb in PA.

I am counting down the hours to starting the trail. We’ve done all the trailer work we’re going to do for now. Tomorrow we head towards Georgia, Tuesday we will stay at Amicacola Falls State Park. Wednesday I start walking North. About 2,200 miles of north.

The past few weeks have been something of a blur. I’ve missed posting on obvious no-brainer days like Pi day (3.14), St. Paddies Day (3.17) and the arrival of Spring (3.20 @ 5.58 PM EDT). So, I guess missing three major events calls for justification.

We did a trip to St. Louis for Ava’s first birthday party and the surprise blessed nuptials of her parents, Stefan and Kasey. Great party in a fun town. I could learn to like St. Louis.

Lise and a one year old Ava.

Some orchids at the Missouri Botanical Garden in St. Louis.

Lindsay came East for a visit. She spent a couple days up in Philly with Molly and Mitchell, the whole gang came down here for a couple days, then we took her back to Philly. While she was here the Surfing Crab opened for the season, kicking off the good eating season. We did a dozen blue crabs, some fried oysters, and washed everything down with a couple pitchers of Yuengling. That my friends, is good living. Only an order of scrapple could have made it better. There’s something about eviscerating your food at the table that brings out a certain level of paganism. A word of advice to the innocent – don’t get between Molly and a crab. You’ve been warned.

These guys were in the water not too long before becoming a right tasty dinner.

About to pounce.

How often is a mallet part of the tableware?

We did a one day trip up and back to Lynn’s in Pennsylvania so I could return a borrowed air compressor. The trip up in the pouring rain was uneventful to the point of boring. The trip back was a bit more interesting. Buzzing down the PA turnpike in the rain, Lise was in the passing lane getting ready to pass a semi. The car ahead of us, just past the semi, suddenly slammed headfirst into the left guardrail, bounced off, slide through the right-hand lane just in front of the semi, and spun onto the right shoulder. Interesting thoughts go through your mind when you face mortality. Like – damn, who’s going to feed the lizard if we join the choir invisible here.

Don’t know why that car crashed, or what happened to the occupants. At highway speeds we were a good half to a full mile past the incident before reality hit us. It went against all my training to keep driving, but we couldn’t back up a mile on the turnpike to see if they needed help. For a consolation prize, we beat the inevitable backup and traffic delay behind us.

We’ve put in a lot of hours fixing up the trailer. But as the major things have gotten done, we’ve found time to get out and enjoy the area. Partaking of the reasons that we like this area. Like having easy access to just walk by the ocean. And great birding. Spring migrants are trickling in, the winter birds are starting to drift north, and you can feel the seasonal change. Throw in some great eating and drinking, a maritime culture going back to the 1630s, and you have the whole package. Going coastal.

Trees on the dunes.

Early emerging snakes.

Going coastal at the Rose and Crown.