Appalachian Trail - Approach Trail to Hawk Mountain (long)

Preparation
I had been toying with hiking parts of the Appalachian Trail over the past 6-9 months, and eventually made a plan to do so the first week of April after making a reservation at the Hiker Hostel. I had been feeling antsy about not having a true vacation since October, and felt the need to “get away from it all,” during the four days and three nights I was planning to spend in the woods. Although my plan was to go it alone, I knew that with it being prime thru-hiker season I would run into other folks out there. I was prepared for what the trail would bring in terms of elevation, length, foliage and other things that are a given when you go out on a multi-day hike, but nothing could have prepared me for the camaraderie I would experience with the other hikers I spent hours upon hours with on this great journey of mine.

I got into town about 4:45p.m. on Sunday and got settled in. I had reserved a private room as I find it difficult to sleep in strange places, and sharing a bunk room with strangers wouldn’t have made the night any easier. The problem with this set up is, as the bunk-mates are talking amongst themselves, getting to know one another, and trading trail “war-stories,” I was pretty much on my own. I would pass by on my way out the back door to sit and read or journal, attempting in my socially awkward way to engage in conversation with a slight “hi,” or statement about the upcoming rainy weather, but nothing really stuck. It wasn’t until I resolved to make my way up to my room for the last time that I ran into Jay, a 25-year-old kid from Long Island who was preparing for his thru-hike the following day. We made pleasantries then decided to sit outside for a bit shooting the breeze. We struck up a conversation that lasted about an hour – he was intelligent, easy to talk to, and optimistic about his upcoming 5-month journey, regardless of his ill-preparedness. The night wore on and, admittedly, I was more concerned about catching the season finale of The Walking Dead than I was about the continued talk, so I made my way up to my room at 9:00 p.m.

After the show, I took a few melatonin to prepare for a restless night’s sleep. I take melatonin anyway, but in an odd setting with an upcoming adventure that was already causing some anxiety, I definitely needed a dose. I turned a guided imagery meditation on and tried to relax as much as possible before a 7:00 a.m. wake-up call. I woke several times during the night, and tried to deduce what exactly was making me so antsy. The forecast of rain was probably one, as being one who despises the rain to begin with, the thought of hiking 8.8 miles through it was not appealing. The fear of the unknown also crept in as I didn’t know what to expect. I had never been on the trail before, and I didn’t know what terrain or elevation to expect. Yes, I knew it was hilly, but just how hilly had yet to be seen. And the overnight stay…..sheesh. I hadn’t been camping since I was a kid, and that was just car camping. This was full on backpacking in the backcountry with no civilization around. What would THAT be like?

I made my way down to breakfast after a quick shower where I ate very little due to nerves. I began making more and more acquaintances with the other folks headed out that morning. I was the only section hiker. I was in awe of the number and types of people that were planning on thru hiking – a father/daughter duo from Texas. A single gal from Ireland as well as a Frenchman. A couple of guys from Chicago as well as a middle-aged guy from Texas. There was Tim from New Hampshire with a wife and kid back home. I wondered what their stories were – what compelled them to want to come out and hike 2,000+ miles over a 5-month period? How did they prepare? How did they handle the responsibilities of life back home?

At 8:30 a.m. we all packed into a van. Most hikers were starting at Springer Mountain, while four of us opted for the Approach Trail. The Approach Trail is technically not part of the AT – it’s merely the 8.8 miles you can choose to do to get to the AT rather than being dropped off at Springer Mountain, hiking out 1 mile and then backtracking that same mile to continue the journey on the other side of the parking lot. I’m not sure why, but for some reason the extra 8.8 was more appealing to me than the one-mile backtrack. Maybe because I didn’t want to cover the same ground twice, even though it would have been easier to do so. After our 30 minute care ride and getting signed into the register, Tim took off right away, after getting a quick picture of himself under the arch - a pretty standard photo for those beginning their hike here. Me, Jay and a gal named Christy began together as we headed out on this drizzling, foggy morning together.
Approach Trail to Black Gap

Although it was rainy, it was fairly warm once we got started and I quickly shed my rain jacket to reveal shorts and a t-shirt under my 35-pound pack. The start was pretty gorgeous, if difficult, as we made our way up the infamous 600 steps that surround the waterfall. Multiple flights of stairs at the start of a multi-day hike is an interesting way to start the journey to say the least. Christy took off shortly after we got started, as Jay and I had to stop for a few breaks here and there to catch our breath as well as a few photo ops. I didn’t want to merely get the miles in – I wanted to experience them as well.

More than a mile after our start, we finally finished the stairs and got onto the terrain of the trail. The rain was still coming, but I remained in good spirits with Jay at my side. We continued to talk and get to know one another – each revealing inconsequential but telling things about one another. I told him that I could tend to be pessimistic at times, and that the rain could hamper my mood if I let it. He assured me that he wouldn’t let that happen as the miles continued on and the rain came down even harder at times. We ran into “just Steve,” about 2 miles into our hike – a 43 years-young military veteran who was trying his hand at a thru-hike for the second time after he had to get off the trail last year due to an injury. He was pleasant enough, although his company was short-lived as he soon out-paced us and went on his way.

Luckily, Jay and I were paced very similarly and kept in cadence with one another throughout this section of the trail. This came in handy for me when the wind picked up, the thunder and lightning came rolling in, and the temperature dropped. At around 5 miles in I got pretty close to miserable no matter how optimistic I tried to remain. I stopped once to get my rain pants and jacket on – if nothing else than to block the wind and try to keep warm rather than dry as I was already soggy and soaked to the bone. My teeth chattered as we stopped once more while Jay collected some water to filter out of a puddle. We had been looking for a water source for quite some time and he refused my offer to take some of what I had in my bladder – I certainly wasn’t drinking much at this point as the temperature was keeping me cool. Jay tried to take my mind off of things as we continued to talk and I kept track of the miles ticking away on my Garmin. The plan was to make it to the Springer Mountain Shelter, 8.8 miles ahead of the Approach Trail.

At 7.4 miles in we stumbled upon what we later found out was Black Gap Shelter. I first saw the structure in the distance to our left as I asked Jay, “what’s that?” We decided to check it out and, after saying our hellos to the three occupants, it didn’t take me long to decide that this is where I would be planting myself for the night. I was cold, wet and tired and did not want to go another mile and a half in the weather. Jay was a little more apprehensive as he wanted to go a bit further on his first day, however, he succumbed to the idea of dropping anchor at Black Gap after I began setting up my tent.

I had only just practiced setting up my tent two days before in the front yard of my condo. I had even gotten inside, laid down for a few seconds to get a feel for it, before scooting out once again to take it all down. I didn’t realize just how compact it was until I got into it for the second time with all of my gear, rain beating down outside with no dry escape. Having hiked for a mere 4 hours and 15 minutes, it was only 2:00 p.m. or so when we decided to stop. I would be stuck in this tent for the next 8 hours or so until I was ready to fall asleep. These were the thoughts going through my mind as I was close to having my first panic attack in the middle of the woods with four strangers hunkered down nearby. I turned on my phone to see if I could get a signal, fully planning to call the Hiker Hostel to have them come pick me up at the Springer Mountain parking lot in another hour or two. I was willing to walk the extra distance in this weather if it meant I could get out of this tent and into a warm, dry situation. Alas, the phone showed no coverage whatsoever and I was stuck. I sat there for another minute or two telling myself, “I can’t do this, I can’t do this,” before I finally made my way out of the tent once more. I walked over to the Shelter and told the foursome inside that there was no way I could stay in that tent tonight, that somewhere along the way I had become claustrophobic and I had to get out of there. Jay was already in dry clothing, having accepted his stay here for the night, as Casie and Nicole insisted that I stay in the shelter with them. I gladly accepted.

Into warm clothing I went and my attitude increased by 113%. It’s amazing what a little warmth and dryness can do for your mood. Jay had decided he was going to try to build a fire, despite the rain, and he, Nicole, Casie and Matt began collecting branches. Matt was a fresh-out-of-high-school 19 year old who had decided to do a thru-hike on his own this year. Smart and soft-spoken, he was from Madison, Indiana just an hour or so North of Louisville. He was eager to pitch in and help out and I liked him right away.

Nicole and Casie were recent college grads from Bangor, Maine – home of my favorite author Stephen King. They were energetic, funny, and full of optimism about their thru hike together as best friends, stating they had been wanting to experience this journey for a while before they had to settle down into the “real world,” with jobs and responsibilities. I admired their attitudes and positivity.

After a few hours of trying to get the fire going, it got to the point where it maintained on its own and we were all able to sit back and enjoy it. I made a package of instant mashed potatoes with tuna on the Jet Boil and shared it with Jay, as it was too big of a portion for me to eat on my own. Pretty soon, three other hikers came along to have a rest and warm themselves by the fire. After a trek in the other direction to grab some water, they too decided to hang it up for the day. The rain had stopped at this point and it was starting to feel a little warmer outside. The soggy, windy climb on that Approach Trail had clearly gotten to everyone who had experienced it that day, and we all enjoyed the calm after the storm – both literally and figuratively.

One of our three new friends, Jason, had his dog Bee Gee with him (short for Big Goof it would later be told). Jason was planning a thru-hike himself, and his two friends were along for the ride in a show of moral support for his first three days on the trail. They were from Chicago, and Jason was a veteran who suffered from PTSD – Bee Gee was his service dog along to help with his mental ailment. The three of them lit up cigarette after cigarette and there were comments and conversation centered around how difficult it must be to hike as a smoker – they all three agreed but weren’t quite ready to give it up just yet. He may surprise me, but it appeared that Jason had already resigned to giving up his hiking experience quicker than he initially planned. When we headed out the next morning, we never saw him or Bee Gee again.

Soon after, a duo of young guys showed up – also from Maine. They spent most of the night conversing with Nicole and Casie as they were all from the same state. One of them had brought a plastic “Hula girl” as his luxury item, although I never quite got the full story behind it. Jay, Matt and I tended to do our own thing whether it was setting up our spots to sleep, noshing on some food, joining in the conversation from time to time, or spending a few minutes journaling our experiences thus far. In the meantime, we were also busy trying to get our clothes dried out on the make-shift clothesline Jay had created above the fire. Not one of us was looking forward to putting on wet clothes in the morning – even though they would most likely be dried out soon after we began our trek with the 70-degree forecast rolling in the next day.

As nightfall came, so did the suggestion of sleep as each of us fell into our prospective places of slumber. The latecomers had their own tents or hammocks set up, as Matt, Jay, Casie, Nicole and I shared the shelter. This would be my first experience in a structure such as this, but it was dry and sturdy which was all that I could wish for at that point. I went through my nightly routine, including emptying my bladder through the Shewee one more time before crawling into my sleeping bag for another restless nights sleep. (For those who aren’t familiar, a Shewee is a plastic funnel that was created so that women can pee standing up. You simply hold it against your vulva, empty your bladder, and the stream runs out through the attached tube – much like a penis. It really is the best alternative to squatting, no matter how much I got made fun of for having this contraption on the trail. It became known as my personal luxury item.)

That first night I didn’t sleep well at all. Lots of tossing and turning despite melatonin and earplugs. At one point I’m pretty sure I felt a mouse creeping around my hand, but I was halfway asleep when I “shooed” it away and was too tired to care. I was plenty warm enough despite having forgotten my fleece in the car, as Jay had given me a jacket to wear. I woke up a few hours after going to bed to have to pee. It was crazy foggy and I wasn’t about to walk to the privy alone, so I shewee’d it next to the shelter before crawling back into the sleeping bag. I felt somewhat restrained in the mummy bag that I purchased, but as long as I had a bit of my head sticking out and could feel some air I didn’t feel too claustrophobic.

About 6:30 a.m. I woke up again to a feeling of having to pee and, to my amazement, poo as well. It was still foggy out and the privy was a far enough walk from the shelter that I didn’t want to go. So here was the moment of truth – my first poo in the woods. I couldn’t NOT go, as I was worried about not being able to go for 3 days straight to begin with – having “shy sphincter” and all. So….I hung onto a tree, popped a squat and let it rip. This is probably TMI, but none of the books that I’ve read really talk about this part of the experience. I’m sure I’m not the only one who has trouble going with people around – concern that someone is going to walk up on you at the privy before you’ve had time to truly relax enough to relieve yourself. But… it happened. And in the morning, when the sun was out, I walked back over with my trowel and dug a hole, scooped my creation inside, and covered it up with dirt and a rock. I had become a true backcountry backpacker!

Black Gap to Hawk Mountain

We all got up about 8:00 a.m. and started getting ready for the day. The weather was calling for a dry, warm and sunny hike. Yesterday we froze, today we were gonna sweat. I wasn’t complaining though as the sun has a way of improving my mood and outlook. After a breakfast of oatmeal and hot chocolate, the “original five” as I was now referring to myself, Jay, Matt, Nicole and Casie were on our way. The plan was to go as far as Hawk Mountain 9 miles ahead, and possibly further if we felt up to it given the great weather and potential for storms the next day. A mile into our hike we were all stripping off our clothes and settled on shorts and t-shirts for the remainder of the day. It was a gorgeous day!

Springer Mountain was only a mile and a half from Black Gap and we stopped to take pictures, enjoy the scenery and the company of other hikers – mostly day hike folks who were there for the 2-mile journey out and back for the view. Casie and Nicole went ahead of Matt and I, while Jay was still far behind having stopped for water – we wouldn’t see him again for another couple of miles. Matt and I eventually caught up to Nicole and Casie who had stopped for a nutrition break, and a few miles later I left them all at my heels as they stopped once again. I was trudging along at a good pace, feeling much better than yesterday’s hike through the cold rain, and making good time. I came upon many campers and didn’t feel in danger once. In fact, one of the conversations from the previous night was how many of us were asked if we were carrying a gun on the trail. All of us were in agreeance that “it’s not that kind of thing,” and joked about how much more our pack would weigh were we to carry a weapon. For those who’ve never done it I can promise you, hikers are the most sincere and nicest, gentle people you will ever meet. I didn’t meet one person who gave me the heebie jeebies, and even felt close to many of them after just a few days together.

I came upon a road where a lot of people park and walk to a beautiful waterfall that I would soon come upon. It was at this time that I lost the trail and had to ask a perfectly handsome stranger with good teeth where the trail head was. After pointing me in that direction, I crossed the street and headed up towards Long Creek Falls. I had been hiking by myself for a few miles at this point and took advantage of the photo op at the falls, even though it added another half-mile to my journey. Coming back from the falls I saw that the rest of my crew had caught up with me. Nicole was struggling with some blisters as well as lack of nutrition as she said the “trees look wavy.” After a short break, some food in our belly’s and a refill of bladders, we were on our way once again for the last 2 miles. It was at this point that I decided I wouldn’t be going any further than Hawk Mountain. The next stop was 6 miles beyond that, and I just didn’t have it in me that day. It was nearly 3:00 p.m. and I would have been walking near sundown considering my pace was already slowing considerably. My shoulders and hips were feeling the weight of my pack, and I was looking forward to enjoying the remaining nice weather in a more relaxed state.

Matt decided to throw up his tent in an area .5 miles shy of Hawk Mountain, while the rest of us went ahead. As we laid down our packs we began hearing rumors of worsening weather for the next day. Hail, tornadoes, 80 mph winds and even the possibility of snow. The good thing about being a section hiker rather than a thru-hiker, is you can end your journey anytime you want. Having experienced that terrible weather from the day before, with the cold dampness still fresh in my mind, I opted to get picked up the next morning and call it quits one day ahead of my planned schedule. I was already off my plan and was nowhere near Neel’s Gap. I had experienced a good two days and two nights and was perfectly fine going home with the memories I had collected thus far.

With my newfound plan in mind, I was able to take it easy the rest of the evening, pitch my tent and converse with the two dozen or so additional hikers who were staying at this site. Two of those were 22 and 24 y/o brothers from Wisconsin whom were catching hell for bringing too much weight – namely 4 pounds of tortilla shells, four cans of fuel and, most notably, a gallon jug of water. They didn’t have trekking poles, which is pretty much unheard of for the AT. But… they had made it 15 miles or so their first day so maybe they were onto something. There were multiple solo female hikers, a few couples, and another father/daughter duo who were section hikers and also wrapping it up the next day. There was another Kentuckian, OD (for Old Dude) who talked A LOT. He was the stereotypical Kentuckian that people normally think of – thick accent, coveralls, middle-aged farmer-like fella. Needless to say, the conversation around the table that afternoon and evening was interesting and enjoyable.

I was concerned about the claustrophobia in my tent again, but as I was able to keep the top peeled back to reveal netting that allowed me to look out, I was more comfortable this time around as I lounged for a bit taking in the sunshine after consuming my dinner that evening – fettuccine Alfredo noodles with tuna, combined with Jay’s addition of some dehydrated vegetables. It was delicious. As I made my way back over to the picnic table later that evening, I was told that my given trail name was “Mom.” Since I had quasi adopted Jay, sharing my dinner with him the last two nights and asking questions such as “Are your feet warm enough? Did you get enough to eat? Did you get some breakfast?” it’s no wonder. I find this somewhat ironic as I don’t have a maternal bone in my body aside from taking care of my dog, LB, back home. I guess the trail has a way of bringing out things in you that you didn’t realize were there.

As nightfall came I crawled into my tent and read for a bit before turning off my headlamp and going to bed. I slept much more soundly this evening – possibly because I was alone in the tent and was able to avoid the rustling around of others around me. The temperature was similar to the previous evening and I was plenty warm once again. The weather wasn’t an issue since it didn’t start raining until I was heading out the next morning. The Hiker Hostel shuttle told me they would pick me up at 8:45 a.m. a half mile from Hawk Mountain, and with my 7:20 wake-up call I was packed up and ready to go. I said my good-byes to my original crew, sans Matt, and made my way down the trail as the rain started. As I approached the small parking area there were a few folks waiting around and I was told the shuttle wouldn’t be by until 10:00. That gave me over an hour in the rain – very appropriate to start my hike in the rain, and now end in the rain. I had no qualms or regrets with my decision to get off the trail a day early as I still wasn’t feeling another day in the cold drizzle. Soon, the shuttle carrying hikers to Springer Mountain came back around and we were warm once again. After a short ride to the hostel, I was in my car and on my way home – the trail feeling miles and days away from me now.

I am very much looking forward to my next hike on the AT, which I am planning in June. The Original 5 talked about meeting up wherever they are when I head back out, but that seems like an awful lot of planning considering service is spotty and there’s no guarantee I would know where they were exactly. If I had to guess, I’ll probably pick it back up where I got off, and get as far as I can in another 2-4 day trek. I will say this – I vastly overestimated myself with how many miles I could get in during the day. I was anticipating 10 a day, and ended up with just 7.4 the first, 10.5 the next. I will have to keep in mind how much the weather impacts things my next go round. I will also know better how to pack in the future, as I brought WAY too much food. It’s amazing how little of an appetite you get while out hiking and I brought probably ¾ of what I took out with me back home. Could’ve saved me a few pounds had I planned better. Either way, it was a great experience and I look forward to many more.

Slacking (on the blogging anyway)

Obviously, my last post was after the DNF in Muncie in July 2016, and I haven't been keeping up with the writing as well as I should have. I've completed multiple races since then, for which you can find the results at the right of the page. Some were good, some were not so good, and others were great. Regardless, I've been more into running and hiking this year than biking and triathon, and I'm focusing more on the way I feel during my races rather than time. Is it great to get a PR? Sure - but I feel that there was a two year period there where I was crushing it and I would really need to amp it up in order to continue getting PR after PR. Rather than do this, however, I am enjoying the run itself and just taking it as it comes, hoping to feel good in the end.

Because there have been so many races over the past 9 months that I haven't written about, it would be impossible to do so now as time and other priorities have turned my memory to mush. Suffice it to say, there weren't any that particularly stand out as either great or horrendous in my mind, and there are many more to come. Going forward, I will try to do better at keeping up with the reports, as I will also be adding other adventure reports, such as the Appalachian Trail and other backpacking/hiking excursions I have on the calendar.