Date: 2005-03-19
From: Low Gap Shelter

To: Cheese Factory site
Miles today: 13.0

3.19.05Day 611am Stopping for an early lunch at Blue Mountain Shelter. The trailhas been a special treat this morning, a gently meandering pathway,like a babbling brook, just following the contours of themountainsides. The first few miles, the trail was only 20 to 30 feetbelow the ridgeline, so we were comfortably snuggled away from thewind, the sun beaming down on us. It was also the flattest stretch oftrail we're gonna see until we hit the Tennessee Turnpike on our wayinto Damascus. The easy terrain (coupled w/ the yummy deliciousdinner and a decent night's sleep) rejeuvenated my tired bones; theexhaustion of yesterday is a thing of the past. (At least, until thenext major mountain I have to climb...) Also, I switched over to myChaco sandals this morning, and my toes, now that they can breath andwiggle to their heart's content, are 10 of the happiest little campersin existence. My Montrails were, if not comfortable, at leastwearable, but the toe box has become a little snug. (I thinkmy left pinky toenail will soon be departing -- the entire end of thetoe is encapsulated in one monumental blister.) So, as long as theweather holds, I'll stick w/ the Chacos.7:40pm A long day, in terms of miles, but a day brimming w/unexpected kindness and generosity. After leaving Blue MountainShelter following my lunch break, I headed down, down, down intoUnicoi Gap, where I reminisced fondly about my first hitchhikingexperience last spring (or ever, for that matter) into Helen. As Idescend into Unicoi, and I can see the parking area a full 5 minutesbefore actually reaching it, I start salivating over thoughts of anice cold Coke, and 'wouldn't it be awesome if their was trail magic',and 'oh look, there are some people milling around a minivan'. I sentout a mental plea to the family -- 'Please don't leave. You carry thepossibililty of food. Stay there. Please.' Well, when I(finally) reached the parking lot, and I'm traversing it toward the AT(and the minivan), a head pops out of another car. I glance over. And do a double-take. Crash!Bang!?? Naw. Can't be. He lives inIndiana. And then, a voice cries out 'Scholar!', the door explodesopen, a yodelling yell assails my ears, and I'm enveloped in asuffocating bear hug by a dear friend from last year. (Only a fellowthru-hiker could so blatantly disregard the stench and sweat ofanother hiker.) He had come down (from Indiana) for the weekend, todispense some mega-trail magic. He handed me a root beer, and saidhe'd see me in a couple hours at the Cheese Factory site, where he'dbe barbequing. I downed half the can in one swallow, I think. Carbonation never tasted so good. James rolled in just as C!B! droveoff, so I offered him the remainder of my drink. (And a thru-hikernever turns down anything related to food.) But, the magic didn'tcease there. Like Walt Disney, the magic never stops. Remember the minivan? Well, it housed more trail angels -- Glenn,Tyree, and Meredith. You guys are terrific. And your cherubic statushas been upgraded, from angels to trail deities. I will pay homage atthe altar of your minivan through all eternity. Seriously, thesefolks are awesome. They drive up to Unicoi, shuttle hikers around. Ireceived my much-dreamt of Coke, as well as a scrumptuous LittleDebbie snack. All the trail magic, the warm fuzzy feeling of thegoodness of humankind it left me w/ (as well as the happily fulltummy) helped fuel my ascent out of Unicoi Gap, which I had beendreading most of the day. But, w/ a stomach full of flavored fizzydrink, and promises of grilled veggies and roasted corn to come, RockyMountain was a breeze. Well, okay, maybe not so much. It was still ahelluva climb, but motivation is a powerful thing. I didn't curse itonce. (Last year, I recall having a few choice words for thatmountain.) The barbeque was fan-tabulous, as was perusing C!B!sphotos from his hike, seeing all the familiar faces of trail familyfrom last year. Wyatt tried to talk me into pushing on to TrayMountain, but I stayed put. Today was our longest day yet -- 13 andchange -- and I saw absolutely no need to make it longer. I'll seethose guys tomorrow, as we set ourselves up for a short jaunt in toHiawassee on Monday. Seeing C!B! was awesome, and who knows when I'llhave the chance again... Serendipity rules the trail, and when itstrikes, you just have to kick back and enjoy.On a completely different note -- I know that I had wanted thisjournal to not only be a recording of my hike and adventures andescapades, but also a memoir of my personal explorations anddiscoveries. And, I think I've not really ventured in to the lattervery much. Some of which is due to the fact that, by the end of theday, when I actually have time to write, I'm just plain tired. And, after I've written about the day, my hand is tired. (Afew days ago, Cuppa Joe jokingly said, on seeing how lengthy andverbose my and Break's journal entries were -- 'People read my journalfor the condensed version. For the unabridged story, they can look upyou two.') I will try and do some more introspective writing. Notnecessarily to share online (some things are just too personal torelate to the world), but just to record, for my future review. However, I honestly don't control how these entries progress. I justpull out my little black journal and pick up my pen, and the wordsspill forth. Right now, for instance, ensconced in my sleeping bag,headlamp illuminating my tent, an airplane flies overhead, and Tess(Sunset Screamer's dog) barks furiously at it. And I'm staring at myhands, at the dirt and grit and grime that is caked in to every lineand crease and crevasse of my palms and fingertips; my fingerprintsare outlined w/ dirt. And I wonder -- How can I be so incrediblyfilthy after just two days? And then I think -- Do I really care? And the answer is 'No'. No, I don't care. B/c I'm happiernow, in my grimy, grungy, sweaty, stinky state than I can everremember being. Life in uncomplicated and pure. Stripped down to thelevel where a Little Debbie Fudge Round or a Coke (or, gasp, both!)makes your whole day brighter, restores your faith in humanity, makesyou want to reciprocate that random generosity at the nextopportunity. Today, I spent a large portion of the day hiking insolitude, which gave me time to reflect on the past 5 days, comparethem mentally to those first 5 days last year, compare mementally w/ the me of last year. I've changed. Indubitably. I'vegrown so much. Become so much more self-aware. And comfortable, w/who I am, and where I am in my life. I still haven't the foggiestnotion of what will come next, after this journey is over, or deviatesits course. I spent perhaps 5 minutes trying to imagine that nextstep, before accepting its futility. Whatever will come, will come. And I will know it when it does. But right now, my path liesnorthward.