Appalachian Trail Section Hike - May 2018

Planning for a section hike far in advance, you always take a chance on the weather. Because I tend to schedule patient’s in my office up to a month or more ahead of time, I can never just leave town on a whim because the weather looks good. Considering two out of the three days I was out on the trail last year were rainy with some severe thunderstorms, I kept a close eye on the weather for the two weeks prior to this Spring’s journey. Luckily, rain would not be an issue this time around, however, I was not prepared for just how warm Georgia May’s can become.

I used to be someone who was really anxious when it came to planning. Don’t get me wrong, I still like to plan things far in advance – whether it be dinner with friends, trips out of town, or concerts coming up. But I used to have to know exactly what was going to happen, and if there was any deviation from the plan I would get all worked up about it. Somewhere along the way I’ve gotten much better at this, as my second-ever Appalachian Trail section hike had a few snafus along with way that I was forced to navigate from day one.

Back at the beginning of the year when I was planning my trip (distance, days, shuttles and overnight accommodations), I spoke to a B&B owner who told me that a shuttle to Hightower would be free of charge as it was a short distance from their lodge. Not knowing the Georgia area at all, I had to trust in what I was told, and was ecstatic to hear that this would be one less expense to worry about. Imagine my surprise, then, when the morning of my hike the owner and I began talking about where I would be dropping my car versus where I would begin my hike. Apparently, there is a “Hightower,” and a “Hightower Gap.” One of these is a mere few miles (and minutes) from the B&B, while the other is a 2-hour, and $150 shuttle, away. Long-story short, I decided to be dropped off at a different location, which meant cutting my hike by 2 days and 15 miles. Come to find out, this was a blessing in disguise.

Neels Gap to Low Gap Shelter – 11.5 miles

After leaving my car at Dick’s Creep Gap and being dropped at Neels Gap to begin my hike, I was immediately met by other hikers who had been on the trail for up to 5 days, after starting at Springer Mountain to start their own journeys. One of these folks was a solo hiker who had completed a month-long hike in Utah prior to trying her hand at the AT, and who had completed a daunting 20 miles the day prior. The other was a couple; also attempting a thru hike, as well as their female companion who was hanging it up for the time being as the mental aspect of hiking numerous miles, day after day, was getting to her. I was feeling good both mentally and physically as I turned my back towards the last bit of civilization I would be seeing for quite a while and stepped off onto the trail for a long 11.5-mile journey – my longest trek to date on the AT.

I was going at a pretty good clip, and the hills didn’t feel to be too terribly steep as I made my way up and down, up and down these Georgia mountains. As long as I’m camping at night with a group of folks, I don’t mind hiking alone – which is a good thing considering I came across very few people on this first day. The great thing about the hiking community though, is that you never truly feel alone. Everyone you pass on the trail has a friendly smile and a welcoming “hello,” as you pass one another – sometimes going opposite directions, sometimes playing “leap frog,” as your paces and breaks don’t always mesh. But always with a silent connection that says, “I am your pal, and we are in this together.”

A wonderful example of this was when, half-way through the day, I decided to take a break on a large rock next to a couple of gals who were also catching their breath and giving their backs and feet a break. One gal, trail name “Brains,” didn’t stick around long and was up the next mountain like she owned it in a matter of minutes. The other, a section hiker like myself, stopped to refill her bladder from a stream nearby. Unfortunately, her filter wasn’t working properly and I was able to offer up mine for her to use. As it turns out, I was also having issues with my own filter (more on this later), but at least she was able to get a small stream coming out, which was more than what she was getting from her own.

We stuck around on that rock for 15 minutes or so, grabbing a bite to eat (a Kind bar and GORP for me), and exchanging stories about what brought us to the AT. She was a twenty-something named Alexis who was from Florida and, being an outdoorsy type, decided that she’d like to section-hike the AT. We laughed about the inevitable questions from non-hikers about whether or not we would be carrying a gun, if we felt safe hiking alone, and what kind of bear protection we carried. I can think of fewer places than the trail where you can sit and have a conversation such as this without the concern of motive or being looked at like you’re suspect – just two gals shooting the breeze, sharing gear, and having a bite to eat in the middle of nature.

My last 5.5 miles that day were a little more daunting than the first 6, as it began with a steep uphill climb. I remember very little about this second half of the day other than the countless ascents and descents as I made my way towards my final destination and sleeping quarters for the evening: Low Gap Shelter. As I walked into the area, Brains had already set up camp and was giving me the lay of the land – where the shelter was located (we had to camp a small walk away as there were a lot of hikers in the area and not enough room to accommodate us all near the shelter area), where I could find the stream, and how to get to the privy. After setting up my tent and getting prepared for an evening’s rest, I made my way to the shelter where a number of other hikers were eating, refilling their water supply, and conversing amongst themselves about their individual journeys so far. Because there were so many people there this evening, it’s hard to recall everyone that I came across. Most were thru hikers, and the majority of those were solo – I’d say 40% were female.

Because of my earlier discovery regarding my failed water filter, I was able to enlist some help to backwash my filter (didn’t work) and then ultimately borrow one to refill my water supply for the night and the following day. This was made available by a hiker named Vortex, who had hiked the entire PCT (Pacific Coast Trail) the year before. The PCT is approximately 500 more miles than the AT, so the chances that she would complete her goal was more than possible. Later, it was found out that she got the name Vortex from hiking 50+ consecutive days on the PCT without taking a “zero,” day. This is unheard of for most thru hikers.

Wrapping up my day after a dinner of instant mashed potatoes and tuna, followed by a few miniature Snickers bars, I made my way back to the tent to do some relaxation and reading before I was both A) tired enough to doze off and B) it was dark enough for me to do so without feeling like I was wasting the evening. This is one of the few, if only, internal conflicts I’ve found when on the trail; even though the day’s mileage could end up in the double-digits, I would be done with that mileage early enough that, technically, I could hike on, but physically too exhausted to do so. When setting up camp between 2:00 – 5:00p, it’s not always easy to keep yourself occupied during that time before you feel ready to go to sleep for the evening. There’s a reason they call 8:00p “hikers midnight.”

After a fairly uneventful night of sleep, I got out of the tent the next morning to see that most of my fellow compadres had already packed up and began their respective long days. I made my way back to the shelter for a bite of oatmeal and some teeth-brushing, followed by an a.m. trip to the privy before breaking down my gear and setting off for my second day on the trail. I bid farewell to a few of the straggler (one of which being Survivor, who kept me awake half the night with snoring and moaning), wishing them well and looking forward to seeing a few at the next shelter.

Low Gap Shelter to Blue Mountain Shelter – 7.3 miles

Although this day would see the least mileage, it was definitely the hardest of my 4-day adventure. As I set out from Low Gap, the first 3 miles or so was fairly flat with very little hills to climb. What’s interesting about this statement, as I would find out by my 4th day, is that it’s not so much the climbing of the hills that got to me, but the descents of those hills. Imagine – day after day, mile after mile with an extra 30 pounds on your back and your feet continuously pounding the earth on a decline. There are very few people I see out on the trail without trekking poles, but for those that don’t take advantage of them, I honestly don’t know how they do it. Trekking poles turned out to be the least of my worries, however, when I came upon the last two miles of this day’s trip

Already tired at 5ish miles in, the day was shaping up to be hotter than the one before as I found myself navigating some fairly treacherous rocks as I neared the end of my jaunt. Hiking on even ground is one thing; I can even manage having to finagle my way around some roots and gravel for most of the day, but these rocks provided a whole new level of complication that I was not prepared for. I was already moving at a slow 2mph clip – knowing that I had just a few miles left to go and being forced to slow down even more was a hit to the ol’ mentality. By this point I just wanted to be done. Luckily, I spotted the last watering hole up ahead which was just a few hundred yards from my stop for the day, Blue Mountain Shelter. I meandered around for a few minutes talking with some other hikers about the difficulty of those last few miles, then headed up the last hill of the day to welcome my reprieve.

Jan (aka Slow and Steady) was the shelters only resident when I arrived and, man, was she was a humbling sight. 70-something years old, she was sporting a shirt that read “When people ask me about my retirement plan, I tell them…… I’m hiking it!” She was a spunky broad who shared with me her history of hiking with her sisters and other family members several times a year for a number of decades until the others’ lost interest. She states she is now one of the only people in her family that continues to hike. When asked if she was a section or thru hiker, Slow and Steady explained that she was out on the AT “trying to get as far as I can until I can’t go anymore.” She admitted to being slow, hence her trail name, stating she hikes no more than 5-8 miles per day, trying to go from shelter to shelter. Once again, I had to ask for assistance with refilling my water supply, and she was all too happy to oblige while handing me her filter.

Throughout the afternoon and evening, we had a number of other hikers set up camp. “Cables” was a 44-year-old solo thru hiker who shared with me, nonchalantly as we ate dinner, that he “technically still has cancer.” He explained that he was diagnosed recently and was going to try some homeopathic remedies for his ailment before succumbing to radiation or chemotherapy. He said his plan was to thru hike in order to “figure some stuff out,” in his life while his wife and two children stayed back at home in Asheville, NC. He told me that he supported himself as a cook, and that he learned this trade over time as he was homeless for two years and had to do something in order to survive.

I spent most of the afternoon reading in my tent and taking a small nap. Since I had had a rough day of it I wasn’t up for much socializing, even though a small group had gathered around a fire, while another bunch hung out in and around the shelter. That’s another great thing about these hikes – you can spend a little bit of time getting to know the others, then retreat to your own space for a while without anyone judging you or labeling you as “anti-social.” “Hike your own hike,” is a common phrase in the community, meaning you do things your way and I’ll do things mine. This pertains to anything from distance and speed on the actual trail, to how you choose to set up your camp at the end of the day. Wanna take a “zero day?” You do you, Boo. Wanna carry a gallon jug of water in your hand (true story) rather than invest in a bladder for your pack? Go for it. There is no other place I can think of that is so accepting of everyone doing their own thing their own way than on the trail.

Blue Mountain to Tray Mountain Shelter – 8.1 miles

After getting a much better nights sleep, I got started 30 minutes earlier to try to beat some of the heat. It was going to get into the 80’s that day, and I was already beginning to feel the effects of a sunburn I developed over the past few days. I headed out on my trek and began playing leap frog with a couple of young guys I recognized from the camp the night before. I didn’t see many people on the trail this day and was hoping for a faster hike now that those rocks were behind me.

During my day-hiking trip to the area in October, I did a small section from Unicoi Gap to Indian Grave Gap, which is a steep, 2.5--mile section of the trail. This same section was upon me now and I wasn’t looking forward to a repeat performance. If I knew that it wouldn’t cost much money and I was able to get a ride from one side of that mountain to the other, I would’ve bypassed it this time around. This is where my frugality and impatience come in handy, as I wasn’t willing to both shell out money and wait for a shuttle, so I continued on this path as my heart raced continuously for a good hour straight as I trudged up one side and down the other.

When I got to the bottom I met up with the two guys from earlier who were taking a break before ascending Tray Mountain. Both were named Matt and were from the Atlanta area. They were roommates and spoke of keeping busy with a lot of outdoor activities such as biking, hiking, rock climbing and the such. They asked about my trail name, and I explained that I was given one last year (Mom), but that I didn’t like it much so was waiting on a new one. When I asked the same of them, Matt #1 said that his initials were M.D. and so he had named himself “Doc.” On the drive to the trail they had passed a road called Rancho, and so Matt #2 had decided this would be his trail name; no significance, he said, just that it sounded like a good name. We talked a bit longer, hitting on the fact that Tray Mountain was going to be another good climb, however, not as steep as the section we just completed – although a bit longer at 3 miles. They took off ahead of me and I wasn’t far behind as I finished up another Kind bar, chugged some water, and set out to finish up this day’s adventure.

The remainder of my day-3 hike was fairly unremarkable, other than a few good views. There was definitely some climbing, but the lack of steepness of this mountain helped keep me moving at a pretty good clip. I was still getting beat on by the sun, and with my arms positioned at a constant 90-degree angle due to holding my trekking poles, the tops of my forearms were getting the brunt of it. As I made my way into camp I saw Doc and Rancho relaxing in the shelter. There was a couple with them who had just stopped for a quick break and water refill, who were soon on their way. The answer I most often hear when I ask if someone is a thru hiker is, “that’s the plan.” Maybe it’s some sort of jinx to say “Yes,” when there’s so much distance to cover. When you think about it, it’s a very appropriate answer given anything can happen over a 6-month period, especially this early in the game. This couple was planning on completing their own thru hike, so it didn’t surprise me to hear this same response from them.

As the three of us now relaxed in the shelter, we were met by Bear Bag. He was a talkative fella who brought along a beer (surely hot by now) to enjoy after his days journey – a bit shorter than ours as he started at Unicoi Gap rather than Blue Mountain Shelter. After borrowing Rancho’s water filter to refill my bags, I sat down to another dinner of instant mashed potatoes and tuna – my third serving of this by now, and of which I was getting a bit tired of consuming. Vortex soon showed up with her boyfriend Nick (no trail name), who were now catching up after taking off into town the day before. Bear Bag took the liberty of sticking his foot in his mouth by asking if they were on a “Father/son or guys trip,” to which Vortex announced that they had never heard that one before. Vortex laughed it off as she explained that she often gets mistaken for a 15-year-old boy, but clarified that she is, in fact, a female. This was a mistake that Bear Bag would continue to bring up as we hiked off the trail the following day.

Since I still had a lot of time to kill before bed, I laid out my mylar blanket and was reading a David Sedaris book in the sun –which at this point felt good since a breeze had now moved in and I had changed into my long-sleeved sleepwear. Bear Bag had set up his hammock a few yards from me, and as he made his way back and forth between his home away from home and the shelter he says, “I think I have a trail name for you, but I don’t know if you’ll like it.” Intrigued, “what’s that,” I asked? “Senior Discount,” was his reply, “Because you eat dinner at 4 o’clock.” At this explanation I had to chuckle. He wasn’t wrong, and it was much more suitable to me than “Mom,” so I decided to keep it.

Tray Mountain to Dicks Creek Gap – 11 miles

My original plan for this hike was to spend a fourth night after 7.5 miles, and then hike out the next morning. However, after three nights of sleeping in a tent, it was difficult to convince myself to stay the extra night, especially knowing I could hike out on this day and be done. By this point I was sore, smelly, sunburned and ready to eat anything other than products that included the words Idaho or Starkist on the label. Additionally, one of my tent poles had broken the day before, and although this didn’t necessarily hamper my ability to sleep in the tent, my already-claustrophobic quarters were made even more so with the depleted head room. I knew that 11 miles may be tough, but I was hoping that the excitement of my completed journey, coupled with thoughts of a shower and a soft bed would keep my motivation going.

By now, my fourth day on the trail, my feet had formed quite a few blisters and kept coming back no matter how many times they got popped. I had brought along some Trail Toes to apply the morning before my hikes, but I had somehow missed packing it back up after my second night and so it became a sacrifice to the Blue Mountain Shelter. Either that or another, needier hiker would stumble upon it and consider it just the kind of trail magic she needed. My arms and shoulders were getting more burned by the day, and my feet were feeling the extra weight with each and every step – especially on the downhills. As I approached the half-way mark I came upon Bear Bag who was taking a breather before making his way up the steepest and longest climb of the day. At 5.3 miles in I also took advantage of a break and munched on some GORP and downed some lukewarm water – another backpacking staple that I was looking forward to not consuming again for a long time.

Although he took off ahead of me, I soon caught up and it was he and I playing leap frog this time around. I tended to be faster on the up-hills, while he was well versed in the descents. I planned to take a bit of a break at the next shelter, which would have been my original stopping point, but after going 100 feet down a blue-blazed hill and not seeing a structure anywhere in sight, I made my way back to the AT and took another break upon a log. This was just 2 miles or so past my last stopping point, but my body was feeling the effects of so many consecutive days of hiking and I needed the rest.

Taking off again there was just one more hill to go up, followed by an even longer walk down the other side. This is where I slowed way down due to the pounding on my soles as well as my knees. I was trying to put as much weight on my hiking poles as I could with every small step forward, but this strategy was doing very little to ease the aching as my dogs continued to bark. Once again, I was passed by Bear Bag who decided to cut his hike short and was looking to get a ride back to his car some miles away. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to oblige him as I was staying in town that evening before driving half-way home the next morning. Besides, I was about to take my third and final break before finishing up my trip and he would’ve been well past me by the time I got out of the forest and back into civilization.

Coming upon Dicks Creek Gap I began to hear vehicles in the distance and knew I was getting close to my car. It’s fairly common to have your car parked in or near the lot where you plan to end your hike, get shuttled to your starting point and then walk back to your transportation. If anything, it’s more motivation to keep on the trail, as some gaps don’t cross busy roads, aren’t accessible to cars or don’t have good phone service, so there’s little to no chance of hitching a ride or calling a shuttle – you really don’t have a choice but to keep trudging along. Given all of the beautiful nature I had seen, as well as the disconnect from the outside world I have to admit: there was no sweeter sight that day than when I finally stepped onto the pavement and saw my Corolla - beckoning me to come sit on its soft leather seats.

Days on the trail: 4
Miles completed: 38
Blisters: 6
Overall experience: Immeasurable

Aftermath – A cousin of mine also wants to section hike the AT, and we had a plan to go out on her first venture in August. After struggling with the May heat, however, we both agreed that we would move our vacation back to mid-September to keep from making our journey any harder than it has to be. I also discovered that 3 nights on the trail, and 4 days of hiking is just about my limit, so we’ll be cutting our over-zealous plan back by a few days and completing a shorter trip just like this one. I will need to invest in a different filter as mine is still not working despite getting it home and back-flushing it numerous time. I will also be looking into a new pole for my tent – either that or dealing with the extra 3 pounds of my two-person accommodations.

Luckily, I didn’t see any ticks on my person either during or after this trip. There were also no bear or snake siting’s either, which is a good or a bad thing depending on how you look at it. This was a much different experience than my initial voyage in April 2017 – not only because of the two additional days, but also because of the weather; the lack of rain made for some pretty good covered distances, which is exactly what I was hoping for. As usual, I cannot mention how great of an experience it is to hike the AT without focusing some of my attention on my fellow hikers. I’ve always said that hikers are some of the kindest people you will ever meet, and this opinion still holds true. Everyone was so willing to lend me a hand when my filter went on the fritz and were great company to keep at the end of a long, hot day. We were all in this together. Some of us were out there for only a short while, as others were making their way to Maine. Regardless, I am truly blessed to get to experience this adventure with a group of like-minded people who are out there hiking their own hike. Good luck to the AT class of 2018!