Hot springs to Damascus

The continuing story of a cat who's gone to the woods....

Hot Springs NC is an awesome little town. Situated between beautiful mountains with rivers flowing right through town. It reminded me of Silver Creek NY where I spent some of the best years of my life.

It was difficult to leave Hot Springs. The locals were really nice and a lot of our hiking friends were there. I had a really good time just relaxing by the river and reading a book, or sitting in the riverside bar and sipping beer with my friends.

G-man decided to leave the trail in Hot springs. He is missed by all who know him

We camped by the river for 3 days but finally decided to leave late on the fourth to night hike to the next shelter along the trail. After 5 miles we had enough though and set up camp in a spot that overlooked the lights from the town in the valley below.

Towns are a major obstacle on the trail. On one hand, we need to resupply. On the other hand, they suck us in. Going to town saps momentum. It is so hard to get back into the routine of hiking and camping after a day or two (or 3 or 6) in town. I feel lazy after a while, choosing to read a whole book rather than marching miles through the muck and mud. When I finally work up the motivation to move on, my body feels lethargic, my pack feels heavy, the hills seem steeper.

It's easy to get into the habit of looking forward to the next town rather than appreciating the journey. Since being out here the beauty if the wilderness has become commonplace to me. Now things like doors, roofs, hot showers and flush toilets are things of wonder. Beautiful vistas are an every day (every hour) occurrence.

Most of the time my eyes are on the trail directly before me. The times when I have twisted my ankle or fallen and injured myself, have all been while looking at and appreciating my surroundings. For example: the trail leading toward standing bear hostile  was absolutely gorgeous. There was a creek and waterfalls, a great variety of fragrant  flowers grew along the trail as it wound back and fourth across the creek. I was hiking along and looked up to admire some butterflies fluttering about, when I stepped wrong, twisted my ankle and tumbled off the trail and 20 feet down a steep incline. The momentum of my heavy pack slammed me into the ground as I rolled and I struck my head causing me to see stars. I was fortunate to hit a tree trunk that stopped me from rolling another 20 feet into the frigid water and sharp rocks of the creek.

I took a moment to assess my condition. My ankle was sore and stiff, my ears rang and I had an abrasion and a lump on my forehead.

"Sonofabitch!" I exclaimed to the trail. "You almost got me you old bastard!"

I limped up the embankment fetching my trekking poles along the way. When I climbed back in the trail I dusted myself off and continued on, reminding myself the the beauty is a trap and to be more careful.

From Hot Springs Morris and I hiked north toward Erwin TN.  We had been carrying a surplus of food since Franklin so we didn't need resupply. Unfortunately Morris contracted the norovirus so we stopped in Erwin so he could be sick in the comfort of a motel room.

We stayed at the " Best Southern motel " a crappy overpriced place with no amenities and a nonexistant staff. After 3 days Morris was feeling better and we were eager to get on with our hike. 

Within hours I began to feel dizzy and fatigued.  The nausea that followed convinced me that I had gotten sick as well so we stopped at the greasy Creek friendly where I camped in the back of the property to avoid spreading the virus to the other hikers who were staying there. I spent most of my 2 days there laying in my tent and feeling like death warmed over. The hostel only had one bathroom so I chose to relieve myself in the woods adjoining the property,  otherwise I'd have monopolized the toilet the whole time.

Morris spent a day helping out the hostel owner as she ran errands in town. He brought me back a chocolate milkshake that was the best I'd ever had.

The following day I was feeling much better so we left Greasy Creek and headed back to the trail. We had discussed going off of the A.T. to strike our own path through the woods for a while.The thought of going forth without white blazes to follow or a guidebook to advise us of terrain and watersources, was very exciting to me. With my navigation experience I felt sure that we wouldn't get lost.

We hiked through the woods for a couple hours before finding a forest road which we followed to a state road. I remarked to Morris about how great the scenery was and what a change it was to be able to walk along without constantly scanning the ground for hazards. There were plenty of farms and ranches that we passed as we continued north.After a couple hours of "yellow blazing" (following the yellow lines on the road)  I stopped to say good day to a man who was mowing his lawn.

Mr. Hooper, a retired natural gas worker, was kind enough to offer is a ride to Hampton TN and we were happy to accept. So we piled into his van and enjoyed his company as he drove down a winding mountain road to the valley below. In half an hour he was dropping us off at the trail head in Hampton.

"We're way ahead of schedule." I said to Morris. "I could go for a burger and a beer. Lets backtrack to that saloon we passed in town."
Morris agreed so we walked a half mile back to get a drink and some food. We intended on getting right back on the trail but ended up staying 4 days at the hiker haven hostel. I was getting restless from so much time in town and told Morris that we needed to move on. I was bored and cranky. Furthermore,  Pam was coming to see me in Damascus for trail days and I wanted to be there before she got there.

Our last night at Hiker haven we were joined by Nomad and Mountain man who told is they were getting a ride to Damascus in Rock Oceans VW van.

Morris and I looked at each other before asking Nomad if she thought he had room for us too. That's how we managed to arrive in Damascus on the Sunday prior to Trail days with Piper, Strider, Nomad and Mt. Man.

Rock Ocean dropped us off at "The Place", a hostel being run by a local church with an aspiring dictator as the caretaker. I didn't like it there so we headed out the next day to camp in the woods 3 miles out of town. Fortunately for the hikers who stayed at the place, the caretaker was removed from the property a couple days later when he was accused of peeping on females in the shower. Police showed up and escorted him off the property.

Pam and Krystal came out to see us on Wednesday and camped in the woods with us. Piper, mountain man, Nomad, Indy, thistle, and Knutt were there too.

On a sombre note, Biscuit set up to camp with us the first night but he ended up staying at a house in town where he passed away during the night. The following day we were all concerned that he had not returned until a couple police and a detective walked into camp to retrieve his gear. I felt sad for his daughter because Biscuit had said that she was coming to trail days to see him. Days later I saw her walking down the sidewalk with a sign that read "In memory of Biscuit, 2013 A.T. " some people had signed it but I didn't stop her because I had only just met him hours before he died. Besides, my philosophy of death is seldom comforting to a grieving family. We all die, it's just part of being. I think death is just another part of a greater journey. I do know that when my time comes, I couldn't think of a better last day than spending time with friends out in the wilderness.  The last time I saw Biscuit he was hanging out by the river as Nomad fished for trout which she later cooked up for the camp.

Our camp was really great. Especially after Pam and Krystal arrived and even more so when Keven came out to visit a few days later. We kept the fire going rain or shine but as the week progressed there was more rain than shine.

The trail days festivities were lackluster at best and I preferred  our camp to the crowd in town, although we did go in every day to take advantage of free food and showers. There was free laundry at tent city too.

Mostly I just enjoyed Pams company, carved a little, played Pipers guitar a little, and just chilled by the fire.

There was an accident during the trail days parade in which an elderly driver plowed into the back of the line of hikers and injured about 60 of them. I was miles away at the time but heard the radio call from a nearby police car. There were no deaths but 6 hikers were taken to the hospital in helicopters. The elderly driver had suffered a stroke or heart attack as he drove behind the parade.

The rain was relentless our last couple days at camp so we spent the last couple nights in a motel in Morrisville Va. It was cheap, clean, and the owner was really nice.

Our last day with Pam and Krystal had finally arrived. Morris and I were delaying their departure as best we could but they needed to get back home to pack up so they can move this week. I suggested that we could help them move and that would speed up their return to hike with us.

That's how I ended up in Williamston NC. We're returning back to the trail on Monday. In the mean time I'm picking up my dog and getting some things from storage to sell to finance my hike.

Life is good. If yours isn't, you should change it. Change it now before it's too late.

Gatlinburg to Hot Springs

When we left the motel in Gatlinburg the sun was shining and the temperature was a pleasant 70°f. During the drive to Clingmans dome it started raining and the temperature dropped to 50°, making it even harder to get back on the trail. The wind gusted harder as Morris and I hiked up from the parking lot. Visibility fell to less than 100 yards so there were no beautiful vistas to see. I was Just slogging up and down hills in the mud and fog.

My mind felt tethered to Pam. Remembering warm embraces only made the chill wind seem that much colder. The weather forecast was calling for thunderstorms that night and into the next day so we hiked to the first shelter and stayed to ride out the storm.

Taking a zero day after only six miles back on the trail was disheartening to me. I began to wonder what I was doing out here. I mean why would I give up the comforts of modern life to torture myself out in the wilderness? I had not come close to giving up but I had once again forgotten my motivation. Some days I hike because that's what I'm here for, nothing more or less.

As we zeroed at the shelter a group of hikers 4 hikers came in to spend the night. One read aloud to us from the shelter registry. It was a story about when the BAMF (Bad Ass Mother Fuckers) crew climbed clingmans dome in a snowstorm.  The story was a good one I later wished I had copied it to share. In short, it renewed my zest for the trail. I remembered when I was a BAMF, a time when I was much harder and less timid. Time and age, comfort and convenience,  had softened me over the years. Although I appreciate the calming of my spirit, I am not pleased with the weakness in my body. I am not pleased with the insecurity I feel sometimes, the fear of the unknown. Questions arise like: what am I going to do after this? Where will I be? How will I support myself?

With a renewed spirit I could push these doubts aside. There is no need to worry about a future that is undetermined. I'll get by, I always have.

When we hit the trail the following morning, I felt great. It was good to put miles beneath my boots. Through those miles I contemplated the trail and what I was trying to accomplish by hiking it.

I thought of an analogy that describes it best for me. The trail is like a blacksmith. In the heat of the day I am fired in the forge. Climbing hills that heat me to the core. My feet pound the worn ground lie the incessant swing of a hammer.  The cold nights quench my heat and temper me. Getting harder, sharper, brighter, with each successive day.  My body is changing, I feel stronger than I have in many years.

I gained about 20 pounds before the hike, all of that is gone and then some.  I have had to cut 4 new holes in my belt and will need to cut another in a couple days just to keep my pants from falling down. My muscles are toned and strong, it reminds me of the shape I was in while in the Army.

I feel mentally stronger as well. While I hike along I think of story lines for "The Girls of Ohmer" ( don't worry avid readers, I will continue  where chapter 20 left off. www.thegirlsofohmer.blogspot.com for those who are curious)

I think about design elements for the guitars I will build. I plan the steps from planting gourds to the finished product. Step by step I build them in my mind, discovering potential problems and alleviating them before they can be. I have thought up innovations that I am excited to test out with the prototypes.  Something about the physical act of hiking combined with the beauty of my surroundings, has charged my creativity. My mind is sharper than ever and I delight in the creative process as I trek along.

I have been carving woodspirits when we stop to camp. Initially I would burn them in the fire when they were complete but now I started leaving them in the shelters we stay at. Some people have requested to buy them, so I will soon begin selling them to support my progress to Maine.

It was good to get out of the Smokey mountains. They are indeed beautiful, and the last 2 days hiking there were the best I'd experienced so far, but the freedom to camp where ever I please was not available there.

After the Smokies we went to Standing Bear Farm Hostel. For $15 a night we got a warm bunk a hot shower and use of the kitchen and laundry. They have resupply there too. I bought snacks and beer for my stay but didn't need provisions.

As the sun went down we lit a fire and hung out talking and listening to a kid play guitar. I had a great time just chilling out and enjoying the atmosphere. (although I wish I had played guitar some)

The next day I wasn't eager to leave but Morris convinced me so we headed North again. It was a beautiful day for hiking and we both felt good to be back on the trail. As much as I wanted to stay, the loss in momentum would have been too great. It just feels like an accomplishment to get miles in every day.

We hiked to Beaver Creek Shelter and tented for the night. I found a spot tight next to the creek and went to sleep listening to the water flowing by.

The terrain from Beaver creek to max patch was steep and my energy was low, so we decided to make it a short 8.5 mile day to the first shelter.

I uploaded a bunch of pictures to my Facebook page. (Torrance Newark on FB ) check them out.

Then an 18 mile push to Hot Springs NC.  Staying here a bit to wash clothes and charge batteries.

Gatlinburg TN

Waking up on the island was a blissful experience. The sun peeked over the mountains as a songbird sang good morning to me. The air was fresh and fragrant with the smell of pine needles. I sat in my tent catching up on my blog and feeling awesome. My ankle still ached when I moved it but the swelling didn't seem as pronounced.

I had fallen asleep the night before gazing up at the night sky. In The morning it was bright blue with just a few puffy white clouds. We took our time breaking camp and then just kinda sat around for a while. It was such a great place to be....just be. I didn't want to leave, but Maine was still over 2000 miles away so eventually I said goodbye to the island (my island) and we headed back to the trail.

We stopped at the trailhead to tear our permits in half and place the bottom portion in the appropriate box. We couldn't resist bitching about the fact that we had to register and pay $20 each to hike through American wilderness. That's not to mention all of the rules and restrictions that accompanied the permit requirement. No dogs allowed in the Smokey mountains. WTF!?!?! That just sucks! No tenting permitted unless the shelters are full, no tenting near the campfire. The bitch list goes on but I'm done bitching...for now.

The trail through the Smokeys has been steep. Did I say steep? I meant to say STEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP! The first day we hiked 5 miles. I was totally worn out. 11 miles the next day then the torturous 6 miles to derriks knob shelter.

I had been on the trail for 9 streight days and fatigue was setting in so I talked to Morris about taking a zero day in Gatlinburg TN.

He agreed and we decided to hitch in from Clingmans dome as the next road was closed due to a landslide. After about 8 cars we got a ride from a couple from New York who drove us all the way to Gatlinburg some 15+ miles away. We had a pleasant conversation though I was self-conscious about my "trail stench" as I sat in the back seat of their car.

They dropped us off at the edge of town and I went right to a gas station for a pack of smokes and a coke. Then we proceeded across the street to the outdoor center. There we saw Joe Cool and Plan B as we shopped for a new gas bottle for our stove. We called around and found a room for $30 a night.

Bales Motel in Gatlinburg TN is a nice place for the price. Huge rooms, very clean, and a pleasant courtious staff. We got our room and I immediately hit the shower.

We had been advised by some hikers on the strip that Shoneys was the place to go for dinner, so we walked down the strip to check out the buffet there.

Gatlinburg is culture shock after being in the wilderness for a week. It was Saturday night and all kinds of people were out and about. Apparently Morris was one of a kind as he attracted stares from just about everyone as we strode purposefully down the street amid the gawkers and tourists.

This place is like any tourist trap, lots of motels, trinket shops, attractions, and vendors. I don't dislike the atmosphere. The smells of candy apples, and fried food remind me of a carnival. The swarms of people eager to consume remind me of a time when I was part of the sleeping flock. That's not to say that I look down on them or pity them, to each his own. I do my share of wasting and consuming as well. It would be hypocritical of me to judge them. I just wonder how many of the masses here have toiled at jobs they hate to come here for just a few days of respite from the drudgery.

In this part of the country there is a different breed of American than you will find elsewhere. It is a microcosm. Tennessee has a different kind of "country people" than you'll find in Georgia, the Carolinas, or even Texas. You see it in their demeanor,  their dress, their expressions. Upscale Hillbilly with a dash of redneck, if that makes any sense to you. I don't know any other way to explain it.

Despite what may seem like disparaging comments about Gatlinburg, I'm staying here for a fourth zero day. It may be the relaxed atmosphere, great food, or awesome company, but I'm having the time of my life.

Some might say that I'm lallygagging, that we should be back on the trail and getting miles under our boots. My only response is that total freedom is the freedom to do whatever I want whenever I want to. I didn't come out here to be held to an itinerary, or to give up opportunities in order to adhere to a schedule.

I'll probably be back on the trail tomorrow morning. Probably.

Finding peace on the island

Cable Gap to Smokey mountain national park.

Morris and I left Cable gap late in the morning and hiked to Fontana Dam. It was only 5 miles or so but the terrain is getting harder to climb as we go on. At Fontana dam we paid a shuttle $3 a piece to take us to a local gas station that served beer and food as well. I ordered nachos with chili and cheese, 2 sausage dogs with chili,cheese,slaw and onions, plus a draft beer and a pack of smokes. We sat and ate ravenously as the server ignored us and tried her best to make us feel unwelcome. ( mission accomplished!) Then we went outside to figure out how to get back to the dam when who should drive up but Onisimous and Spence in their travel trailer.

I looked at morris, "I think I found our ride."

I walked around to the drivers side and greeted Onisimous with a smile and a hand shake. "Hey man, you wouldn't be headed for the dam would you?"

"Why sure!" He replied with his wide grin. "Hop on in!"

"Thanks man!" I said and motioned to Morris.

We rode in the back with 2 other hikers as Onisimous piloted the house on wheels through hairpin turns on the route back to the dam. He dropped us off assuring me that we'd meet again furthur up the trail.

Morris had spent some time at Fontana dam with Jade. He said he wanted to camp on one of the islands in lake Fontana rather than staying at the hiker shelter. I agreed but said I would rather stay in the more secluded one of the two.

The water level of Fontana lake is low. This has revealed a land bridge from a shore to the Island I have claimed as my own. (So far no one has disputed me)

We hiked out to the island taking a treacherous route over steep rock scrambles that threatened to pitch us into the chilly water below. I remarked to Morris that there was a high chance of broken bones, getting wet, and possibly drowning. We smiled and went on. 

The island is small, covered with bushes and pine trees, oh and lots of briars too. We climbed up past the old waterline to find a deer trail winding through the center of it. There was one level spot perfect for my tent, and plenty of trees for Morris to hang his hammock. We set up camp and decided to head out to the shelter for two reasons: to raid the hiker box for provisions and try to get cell signal to call our lovely ladies.

Negotiating the rocks and hills to get off the island and back to the road was so much easier without 45 pounds weighing me down, but it still took a good bit of effort. After 30 minutes we made our way back to the road, crossed the dam, and climbed the hill to the shelter. There we found nothing of value in the hiker box but we had signal so after speaking with Lumber John and Two Sticks, we called our girls and talked until after dark.

The walk back was nice. Downhill on a cool night, what could be better? Fontana dam was lit up by spotlights that were arranged across the top. We walked across and then switched our headlamps on to navigate the darkness on the other side. We cut into the woods to get to the land bridge to our island.  Our headlamps revealed tiny green sparkles in the leaves on the ground. Further investigation showed that it was our lights reflecting in the eyes of spiders. There were thousands of twinkling little spider eyes watching us progress through the woods.

At the land bridge we stopped to sit in the sand and gaze at the stars. The beauty and serenity of our surroundings was ethereal. The frogs were chirping in the cove and the stars provided enough light to see the reflection of the mountains on the lake. A cool breeze refreshed us as we contemplated life, thankful for our situation once more.

Stecoah gap and then some

The hike to Stecoah Gap was arduous to say the least. 14 miles of extreme terrain. My right ankle was swollen and sore but there was little bruising so I decided to press on. I passed the time singing about love and thinking about Pam.

The last thing I wanted when I started this hike was to have something taking me back in my mind. I wanted to live every new day with no restrictions or reservations. I tried to think about the now, but my mind drifted back to Franklin, to three days of bliss with Pam. I started to try to put her out of my mind but realized it was futile. Furthermore I realized how I had been smiling like the village idiot through miles of thigh burning ups and knee crunching downs.

I had caught the bug. Despite any plans I had to the contrary, I had fallen in love. It's strange how things happen when you're just cruising through life, minding your own and BLAMMO! There it is and you can't deny it.

So I continued on. Left foot, right foot, Pam, left foot, right foot, Pam..... She moves like a cat, the way she calls me "darlin", the excitement and reverence she showed at viewing the mountains for the first time. I smiled remembering how she dug her hands into the mud when we mined for sapphires together. The fun we have, the completeness we feel together, warm hugs and sweet kisses. All of these things surface in my memory as my feet continue plodding north.

I stopped to take pictures of wildflowers that were blooming. I have been snapping pics of different kinds as I see them. I'm getting shot's of trail dogs too. At the end of the hike I'll post a compilation.

When I arrived at Stecoah Gap I was whipped. I found a six pack of PBR just before the picnic area ( Yay trail magic!) so I grabbed one and sat to wait for Morris.

Just then a group of hikers got dropped off after hitching to town for supplies. Machine, one of the warrior hikers( they are hiking to raise money for disabled veterans.  Www.walkoffthewar.com) gave me a patch for my bag after I told him about the beer up the hill. He grabbed some for him and his crew.

Morris arrived with Jade ( read his journal for details about that)

After Jade left we walked down a gravel road to camp. Lit a small fire and talked until after dark about love, the trail, our trials while hiking apart. We had both come to a point where we'd forgotten what inspired us to take this journey. Two sullen, slightly deflated hikers, stealth camping on a gravel road.

When I woke the next day, I sat in my tent writing.  I was still thinking about home. Well, I have no home, so I was thinking about Pam. I skipped breakfast and packed up for the days hike. We had planned on going all the way to Fontana Dam, but upon arriving at cable gap shelter, we decided to call it a day. The aches in our bodies and our spirit had sapped our strength.

It was only 3pm when we stopped and a lot of other hikers continued past us until about 5 when they started stopping to stay for the night.

I lit a fire and prepared dinner. I was so hungry. I ate, prepared another dinner, ate and then made some soup. I was still hungry so I made some mashed potatoes. Finally I was satisfied, but I began to worry that if I ate three meals a day, my food wouldn't last to the next resupply point.

As usual, we sat around the fire talking. Dreamer was remarking about a hiker she'd met who had done the trail several times, and asked "what would make someone want to do this over and over?"

A man sitting on the edge of the shelter replied "I was a banker for thirty years. What made me do that over and over?"

That's when it clicked in my head, why I had started this journey in the first place. To get the hell out of the senseless life I was living. Living to work and working to live. There was no end to the stupidity of earning money to buy worthless things to try to fulfill an empty existence of working a job just to buy more crap.

I smiled at the idea that I'd broken the cycle. That I'd taken a chance to stand by my ideals and live a life of passion and purpose. Many thought I was selfish for abandoning responsibility and doing what I want. But who are they to deny me? I have not held anyone from their dreams, why should mine be unrealized? They should not. My dreams are my purpose and I'll never be a complete person unless I seek a resolution to the desires of my heart.

This hike is not my dream, it is a means to an end. An experience that will help unlock me, strengthen me in mind body and spirit. So that I am prepared to realize what I have to give to the world. We all have a purpose. I've always known that mine is not to be a cog in the economy, obediently turning on a peg so that bills get paid and goods get purchased and consumed. I am a free radical, tempting other cogs to dissent. The machine is fake, reality is what you make of it.

Out here on the edge there is beauty and hardship, honesty and danger. There is the helping hand of a stranger and the brutal fury of nature. Out here it's real, and I am as free as a bird.

Continued....

Continued...

The morning following the ice storm was calm and cool. I took my time packing my gear and headed down the trail.

A few hours later I met Hawaii as she hiked southbound (again???) I spoke with her for a couple minutes, she told me about some cool people camping down at the road ahead.

As I approached the campers I heard Noodles yell out " Hey Stupid! Whats goin on?!"

The day had warmed considerably and it was a sunny view at the site where he camped. Along with Noodles was Mountain Man, Nomad, and Piper.  Apparently Hawaii spent the night in pipers tent, he was smiling and whistling as he packed his gear.

I sat by their fire and had a smoke while we chatted about the previous days storm.  After a while I bade them goodbye and headed on. I met up with G-man and Knutt at the next shelter so I sat and talked with them before we all continued on to wesser bald shelter. The weather was so nice that no one stayed in the shelter. We all pitched tents and then stood around the fire until late.

The next morning I was the last to leave camp for the 5 mile or so hike into the N.O.C.  I soon passed G-man and Knutt, then I sprained my ankle on a root so they passed me again. I met up with someone who saw me lumping so they gave me a percocet. In ten minutes I was feeling no pain  and floated down the hillside to the NOC.

The NOC smelled like a carnival as I hiked down to it. There was a Hiker event going on with vendors, activities and a free dinner. I heard about the restaurant there that served great burgers so that was at the top of my list, as well as finding a place to stay, getting backcountry permits for the smokeys mountains,  and having some fun. As I checked out the scene, I saw a bridge crossing the river. No sooner did I start to cross than I heard " Hey Stupid!"

A group of hikers were waving me over so I went and chatted with them about how surrealistic it was to find this place on the trail. There was a store, an outfitter, a restaurant, and a bar.  It was awesome to say the least. I learned that there was free camping near the railroad tracks so I headed that way when I heard "Hey Stupid! Over here, we saved you a seat!"

It was G-man at the restaurant. So I went there first, ordered a burger and a few beers. After the percocet I had taken earlier, those beers had me lit. I joked to my friends that I needed trekking poles just to walk. So I stumbled off to set up my tent. I then hung around the store drinking beer and hard cider while meeting new hikers and familiar faces as well. I got permits for Morris and I at the outfitters, then picked up a 12 pack of yuengling and sat outside the bar waiting for dinner to start. I gave most of the beer away but drank enough myself to keep my buzz going.

When dinner was served, we put all the tables outside together. The atmosphere was festive as we gorged on hot dogs and chili. The band played well and we all sat there by the river having a great time.

Later we walked back to the campsite "tent city" and sat around the fire drinking, smoking, and telling stories about things we've seen on the trail.

Some time in the night I stumbled back to my tent and fell asleep with my legs hanging out and my boots on. I woke up at 3am and searched for my lost cell phone, then finding it, returned to my  tent.

The next morning I felt surprisingly good for having been so drunk the night before.

A former thru hiker ( and retired army ranger ) named onisimus was out to do some trail magic with his dog Spence.  He offered me an orange and we commiserated about the government and agreed that this life in the open was great. He gave me an orange and a banana for breakfast. I gave him a pall mall menthol.

Then I finished packing up and headed for Stecoah Gap to meet morris.

Days 11 to ? ( what day is it today?) Unicoi Gap to Stecoah Gap.

Days 11 to ? ( what day is it today?) Unicoi Gap to Stecoah Gap.

The days melt together, punctuated by stunning views, interesting characters and the wrath of nature. All in all I am still having the time of my life, with no regrets. ( although I have had the curious thought " did I really drop a grenade on my life and destroy it?" ) Living on the trail is a totally different experience than I was ever used to.

So far I've taken more zero days than I had planned. The frigid weather had us in Hiawassee for 2 days. Then I met my sweetheart Pam for three  days in Franklin.

While I zeroed in Franklin, Morris hiked ahead and met Jade. This was our first time separated on the trail. When Morris was hiking out if the NOC, I was leaving winding stair gap.  I camped that night on a clearing just up the hill from Siler Bald shelter. It was a beautiful evening that called for rain.

In Franklin, I had ditched my hammock and bought a one man tent, I was sick of getting soaked every time it rained. So as the rain started that evening at siler bald,  I was snug and warm.  I woke up the next morning to ice accumulating on the outside world. There was a thick fog and freezing rain.  I looked outside and decided to stay in my tent where I was warm.

At around 1pm a hiker named Rob came by and I talked with him while he smoked a cigarette. "Are you gonna stay in there all day?" He asked.

"Yeah, I'll let this weather clear," I replied " I'll still make it to the NOC in time for the Hiker Feast on Saturday"

Rob shrugged, then put his pack on and headed up the trail.

At 2pm the accumulated ice proved too much for the trees. Limbs began creaking, cracking, and snapping. It sounded like all hell breaking loose. I thought about the huge trees I was camped under and the lack of protection provided by my tent. That's all I needed to light a fire under my ass. I frantically packed my backpack as the fury of "icemageddon 2013" raged outside. Limbs were falling every 5 or ten seconds, the trees above me were groaning in warning.  This was the first time I have been terrified for my life since I almost wrecked a helicopter in flight school 20 years ago. I was sure that any moment an ice covered limb would take me out.

I got my bag packed, tent emptied, and stood outside in the freezing rain, looking up at the pending doom above me. My tent was coated in ice like window panes. I broke it clear and hastily rolled tent, poles, pegs and rainfly together in a soggy bundle which I secured to my pack.

I decided to head to the shelter half a mile away but just then two hikers passes saying that one was overfull, 20 people in an 8 person shelter.

So I started hiking to the next shelter. I stopped to put my raincover on my pack as the two hikers disappeared into the mist and rain.

The trail was covered with ice and limbs,  trees were cracking and snapping everywhere around me.  The rain fell harder and I was soaked, even my rain jacket soaked through along with my down jacket underneath.

I recognized that I was in danger of hypothermia. At the pace I was going, I would not make it to the next shelter before dark. Climbing over fallen trees and negotiating ice covered rocks slowed me considerably.

After 5 or six miles I found a sturdy pine tree beside the trail. It was enough shelter from the rain to start a fire and warm up. I took a stout stick and dug out a flat shelf behind the tree to set my tent up. The pine tree protected me from most of the falling ice chunks as the ice, limbs and trees continued to fall. I ate a hot meal, changed into dry clothes, and slept soundly until the morning.

Alas, my battery is dying....more later