Date: 2006-03-13
From: Woody Gap (The Hiker Hostel)

To: Neels Gap (Mountain Crossings @ Walasi-Yi)
Miles today: 10.6
Weather: overcast clouds

3-13-06Woody Gap (The Hiker Hostel) to Neels Gap (Mountain Crossings @ Walasi-Yi)10.6 milesC-RAM trail wisdom:We are the trail - the trail is not merely a collection of rocks and dirt and shrubs and trees and mountains and rivers and streams and valleys; it is the people that hike it, it is the everlasting essence of every hiker that has ever set foot on the trail. It has no meaning without our presence and we exist to perpetuate it¢s exist. There is no separation. Just like everything else.So you want to know more...Blinking the sleep from my eyes, I check the cheap Timex. Six or something or other. Seeing as breakfast was served at 7:30AM, I decided this was a ripe time to get my butt out of the bunk. Thankfully, my shorts were in the cubby hole and had not tried to attack Michelle in the middle of night. I strolled into the kitchen to the sight of our hosts setting up for breakfast. They mentioned something about coffee and I perked right up, and fired back a "Where?" Right there on the breakfast bar, help yourself. Hot, scalding cup o' joe in my hands, with a thanks, and a hop and a skip and I was up to the loft, with my old friend, the computer. Online journal was the name of the game until breakfast, but I could barely pry myself away from the keyboard until the delicious odors of a hot breakfast snaked themselves upstairs and into my nostrils, shooting a hot charge of excitement to the olfactory part of my brain. As I made my entrance downstairs and seated myself at the table, I could see our hosts had prepared a grand feast for their humble guests.Big, floppy, fresh waffles, real oatmeal, cooked long in a pot, fluffy scrambled eggs, fresh juice, and of course, our friend, hot coffee. A feast fit for kings! Little was said during the half an hour chow fest, but I'm sure talking is not of the norm at a table full of hungry hikers and hot chow. Everybody left the table with a smile on their face and bellies full.After breakfast, Uncle John and I packed our gear up and waited outside for the second van ride to Woody Gap (I could not move fast enough with my bloated stomach to get myself ready for the first one out). While we were sitting and chatting on the porch to John ("Billy John Bob" as I have dubbed him), my uncle decided to weigh his pack on the hanging scale. I didn't want to watch this ceremony, for I knew my pack weighed more than his, yet hadn't bothered to weigh it before we tackled the wilderness, hoping sheer ignorance of the actual weight would allow me not to dwell on the Beast as it was latched onto me. So you can imagine my surprise and agony when discovering his pack packed weighed 48 pounds!Now I had to weigh mine. The pack was placed on the hook and the spring went down, down, down, until it rested at the miserable weight of 55 pounds. 55 pounds! What the hell do I have in this thing?!? Unbelievable!It dawned on me that I now was imbued with a mission today: make it to Neels Gap and to the Mountains Crossings store and get as much weight out of my pack as soon as possible. And a nice, cold Gatorade would be nice, too! Josh pulled the van up to Woody Gap, I slung the Beast upon my back, and I was off. Nothing could stop me when on a mission. We had started at 8:20AM and I reached Jarrad Gap by 11AM, a 5.6 mile hike. Short rehydration break ensued, but with my restless feet I soon hit the trail again. I could deal with the lower back pain, tightening shoulders, throbbing hips, and aching calves, because in the 10.6 miles I had to hike to get to Neels Gap, I knew it would all be worth it. Miles flew by, trees were a blur, my feet ate that trail and spit it right out. Nothing could get between me and Neels Gap, not even the imposing and frightfully named "BLOOD MOUNTAIN".Never trust the AT maps' elevation profiles. They may give you a general idea of the difficulties you may encounter along the way up and down a slope, but the mountains speak their own language as you walk them. Blood Mountain looked worse that it really was, at least coming from the west end, as we were. But it was a great climb, nonetheless! Smooth, steady uphill sections, interspaced with some rock stairs, turning into bald rock near the peak. An abundance of rhododendron, mountain laurels, and moss flourished along the trail. The top of Blood Mountain was unlike any of the other mountains we have climbed so far in Georgia, with large areas of bare rock, some covered with fresh patches of fresh, musty moss, spiced with rock tripe, leaving me reminiscing on the majestic peaks of Maine, a frequent place of our childhood vacations. There was even a grand, unique stone-walled shelter positioned near the peak for weary hikers to rest in. Another day I must return to this summit for the view, for today it was shrouded by the mist and rain that had pervaded throughout the day. Such a quiet, meditative hike up.The ancient shelter on top of Blood was occupied by a few other fellow hikers, Chris and Andy, who I seem to play cat and mouse with, and the one I have dubbed "Dogboy," for he is youngish, and has a dog, and does not say much so to me it seems suitable to call him Dogboy. I believe his real trail name is "Backtracker" if I am not mistaken. After conversing with Chris and Andy, making promises of gifting them my peanut butter upon reaching Walasi-Yi, I shouldered the Beast and headed down the trail. It was a quarter til one, and in my excitement about finally reaching Neels Gap, I had promised my hiker friends that I would cover the last 2.5 miles in an hour and arrive at the Gap in an hour. Big mistake.I wish I had thought to knock on some wood, because I cursed myself with that last exclamation of hiking prowess. As I descended, I soon found myself on steeper and steeper all-smooth rock terrain, wet from the rain, leading to a narrow path. I was a slippin' and a slidin', and thought that the trailmakers had set out to knock out a few hikers with injury or possible death before they even made it Neels Gap. Who were these sadistic people? I walked a bit more down the path and realized I had just screwed myself, as there were no white blazes to guide my way. Back up the slippery slopes I had just o-so-carefully descended, with much heavy breathing and a bit of cursing, and I spotted the sly little white blaze that guided people onto a different path. I swear that wasn't there before. I was not a very happy hiker at that moment.For hikers coming up the east end of Blood Mountain, I bet you really enjoyed some of that steep, jagged terrain that I was navigating my way through. I started worrying about my Uncle at this point; I did not want to send him with a one-way ticket to Syracuse in a cast anytime soon. But I knew him to be a more-experienced man of the mountains than I, so I quelled the fears and continued on with the mission. Civilization soon filled my years, the loud mufflers of southern cars were greeting me the further down I went, so the faster I started going. All of the sudden I was there! Blessed Walasi-Yi, place of hiker fantasies, my Mecca of the day was upon me. Oh joy, oh wonder, oh Gatorade!Fueled up on PowerAde (a poor substitute for Gatorade I must say) and orange juice, the sweet nectar of the gods. Had to keep wiping the drool from my lip as I perused the many wares of Walasi-Yi. Contacted a friendly fellow who went by the name of Cornbread for the famous pack shakedown; I was going to get rid of as much weight as I could bear. I disemboweled the Beast and set everything out on the storeroom floor in a neat and orderly fashion so that we may begin the elimination process. If I remember correctly I sent back some entertainment items, my Prolite 4 Pad (much better for winter camping), my Leatherman tool (my Rambo knife is all I need), useless items in my prepackaged med kit, a space blanket, heavy OR Croc gaiters, my metal poop shovel, my hiking pants (apparently you can get by with just a pair of long underwear, shorts, and rain pants as a layering system), my Sierra Zip stove (I would use my Uncle's white gas stove until I got my alcohol one), my walking stick, and other various items, and also sent some extra food ahead. I spent a little over $200 purchasing much light Mountain Hardwear gaiters, the Thermarest Z-lite pad, a tent stuff sack, much needed Leki trekking poles, extra pair of liner socks (Fox River's, and I love them), a plastic poop shovel, and BodyGlide, for those embarrassing chaffing areas (fellow AT hikers, you know all about this).All said and done, the time had come to weigh the Beast. Lifting it up to weigh on the spring scale outside I could already tell it was much lighter. 38 pounds! I dropped a whopping 17 pounds with that pack shakedown, and was as happy as a bear with a foodbag! I couldn't wait to try this baby out on these Georgia mountains.It was probably a half an hour before Uncle John finally made it down the mountain; apparently he had taken a lunch break up there and had gotten a little lost himself. With him safe and sound, but with a pair of bothersome heels, he proposed renting some bunks in the Mountain Crossings hostel on his dime. I wanted to push on a few more miles and camp it, because this was what I was out here to do, to live and sleep in the wilderness, not some fancy-pants hostel. But stay we did, I did not want to push him any farther then he wanted to go, we were a team for these two weeks on the AT.And we were blessed enough to get a cabin stay with Andy, Jen, Scott, our friends form before, and other hikers Lou and Hal, who were slackpacking (for non-ATers, slackpacking is the process by which one only has to carry food and water with them for the day, as they get driven to a drop off point in the morning and picked up at their ending point at the end of the day, a nice but expensive alternative to carrying a pack for umpteen miles).Uncle John and I caught the evening van into town for the southern style all-you-can-eat buffet, which was mediocre, but what do you expect for $8 a person? We picked up a six-pack of Pepsi (another dry county along the Bible Belt) and returned to our cabin for some R&R. I spotted my first blister, on my right foot where this extra skin is located off of my big toe in between it and the next toe. It was a small one, and I was confident that it wouldn't affect my hiking the next day. I called the girlfriend and the momma, chatted for a bit with them, talked to Cindy about family and we exchanged pictures, I had some of my brother and girlfriend, she had some of her husband and family, and wrote until 1AM. Very tired but anxious to try out the new super Beast on the trail on the morrow.GOOD NIGHT!