Date: 2004-05-07
From: Newfound Gap

To: The Return of Spur
Miles today: 10.4

I am having second thoughts about the use of drift boxes. Yesterday, during what should have been a brief re-supply stop in Gatlinburg, Tennessee, too much time was spent planning for, assembling, and shipping a drift box to another location up the trail. That activity occurred when I should have been hitching a ride back to Newfound Gap, where I could have resumed hiking and reached a shelter before dark. Instead, I lingered too long in town and ended up staying at a motel. This morning, it was an easy hitch back to Newfound Gap, where I had last hiked.Until now, the trail in this park has wound its way across ridges and clung to the sides of mountains, always at very high elevations. Other then a few exceptions, a line of trees has partially obscured the scenery. Today, at many spots along the trail, the trees gave way to open viewpoints. At one such spot, I stepped off the trail and scaled a rocky face in order to get a better vantage point for a photograph. Elsewhere, I climbed a tree for the same reason. In a sense, I was stopping to smell the roses. The decision to hike at a slower pace¢my own pace¢was a good one.After hiking a tad over ten miles, I hiked down a side trail to the Peck's Corner Shelter. My arrival coincided with the arrival of another hiker named Inchworm. We looked into the sleeping area and observed its sole occupant, a young man relaxing on the upper tier. A blanket covered his legs. On the blanket were large illustrations of women. "Spur!" I said, stepping toward him and shaking his hand. "A flash from the past."I looked closely at the blanket. As a point of clarification, I had mentioned in a previous journal entry that his blanket displayed an illustration of The Little Mermaid. I was wrong. The illustration displays several sexy women."It's nice to have some ladies around," he said with a smile. He was wearing a shirt which displayed a sketch of a scary looking clown popping out of a jack-in-the box. The back of the shirt displayed in bold letters the words, "Insane Clown Posse," which is a hard core, white rap duo.Spur thanked me for leaving in a shelter register a spare part for his backpack. He told me that it had come in handy. He also mentioned that he had shed some of the excess items in his backpack. Then, minutes later, he removed from his pack a machete. I asked him, "Why are you hiking with a big thing like that?"He replied, "I lost my pocket knife." He gently whirled the machete through the air. "It's good for the rats.""You mean the mice," I said.Spur removed a chunk of turkey from his backpack, sliced off a piece with the machete, and ate it.Spur told Inchworm and me that he had spent the entire day at the shelter in order to rinse out his clothes and dry them. Near the shelter, some articles of his clothing were drying on a hitching post used for pack horses.Spur said to me, "I'm roughing it, man. My diet is holding me back." He described the food he had eaten on a single day. The menu included eight Pop Tarts. And there was a pack of cigarettes he had smoked.In spite of Spur's eccentricities, I sense that he has a serious and thoughtful side that is less evident. He continues to write voluminous journal entries. He conveyed to Inchworm and me his opinion about how this prolonged exposure to nature is affecting his sense of perception.Other hikers drifted into the shelter, including a squad of Marines. These soldiers were not the ones from the previous night.I descended a slope to the location of a stream which was the designated water source for the shelter. A hiker in his mid to late twenties was sitting there. His face was tanned and he sported a thick beard. He projected a laid back demeanor, with a far away look to his eyes. We exchanged greetings.He told me with a soft spoken voice that his trail name is "Brother," and that he was attempting a thru hike to Maine without spending money, but was carrying a credit card for emergencies. I asked him how he was obtaining food. He said that he did not have a set formula for obtaining food, but that he was getting enough through resourcefulness and the generosity of other people. He certainly appeared fit.Brother told me that his trail name expressed his desire for a brotherhood between people. Along the stream, Spur was pulling up a plant while a Marine watched him. He told the soldier that the plant was a ramp, an edible onion which he had been eating on occasion. He scraped away part of the bottom of the plant and took a bite. The Marine seemed intrigued.I walked over and told Spur that the plant was definitely not a ramp. He expressed surprise and said that he had been eating these plants on other occasions.Back at the shelter, I conveyed to Brother and Spur my intention to get back to work when the thru hike ends. Brother and Spur challenged my statement, saying that there were other ways to contribute to the good of all then only through employment. Spur cited an instance when he noticed a woman¢someone he did not know¢crying on a bench. He said that he put his arm around her shoulder and consoled her. Brother said that a person could contribute to the common good through acts of creativity, like with music and art.Hearing that, Spur offered to sing us a song. We told him to go for it. He launched into a rap number from the duo, ICP. It was laced with profanity and hard core lyrics, a far cry from traditional camping songs like, "If I Had a Hammer."In the meantime, beside the shelter some of the marines were extending out a long pair of wires¢rabbit ears they called them¢in order to communicate with their base at Camp Lejune, or to a communications vehicle parked at Newfound Gap.Later, the master sergeant discretely handed to Brother some MRE ("Meals Ready To Eat") packs.Right now, I am lying in the privacy of my teepee tarp situated in the woods behind the shelter. There are still conversations and laugher coming from within the shelter. But for me, the time has come to catch some z's.