Date: 2017-03-31
From: Hemlock Hollow Inn & Paint Creek Cafe, TN

To: Flint Mountain Shelter, TN
Miles today: 17.3

Day 24: Hemlock Hollow Inn & Paint Creek Cafe, TN to Flint Mountain Shelter, TN - 17.3 miles:Not a wink of sleep last night. I gave up trying at 6:30am, packing up my gear and walking over to the store/communal area of the hostel. I walked in and was welcomed with the smell of hot coffee, and would enjoy two cups, along with two bacon, egg, and cheese breakfast sandwiches, as I waited for Toepick to arrive. At 8:30am she was ready, and we loaded our gear into the back of a truck and were slowly returned to the trail-head .7 miles away. After a nice of rain, the morning looked promising as patches of blue sky could be seen overhead, the sun already warming the morning air. We hit the trail at 8:45am and immediately began climbing our way up ~5 miles to the ridge we'd follow for the remainder of the day.Within 20 minutes of climbing, I noticed the sun and blue sky had disappeared, replaced by low hanging grey clouds. The wind picked up and added a coolness to the morning. I happened to glance over my shoulder at the mountains behind me and noticed they, too, had disappeared behind a wall of fog. A minute later I glanced again and noticed the grey wall was much closer, extending from the sky above to the ground below, and was closing fast. I quickly dropped my gear, put on my rain jacket, and enclosed my pack in its rain cover. I glanced again and noticed the wall was nearly on top of me, trees I had just passed were now completely hidden. Fearing the approaching fog was, like in the second Hunger Games, a poisonous gas tributes must run from to survive, I closed my eyes and released a small whimper as it engulfed me. It may not have been poisonous gas, but it brought along with it a wall of cold rain. I thought about yelling ahead to Toepick where the rain and fog had yet to reach, but figured, screw it.The rain would last nearly an hour, soaking me, the trail, and everything around in the process. When it let up, I was left dripping, nearly frozen, violated, and with not so much as a phone call afterwards. Along with the overnight rain, the trail was reduced to a series of mud holes, standing pools of water, and even flowing streams over certain stretches of trail. The day would rotate between periods of thick and light rolling fog, occasionally clearing, but all beneath a low ceiling of grey clouds. The sun would only appear twice today, lasting no more than a minute each time. Toepick quickly adopted the "f it" mentality, walking through puddles and mud, not seeming to care, but I would follow behind as I rock-hopped to avoid fully soaking my shoes and socks.The first quick break came after three miles when we reached Little Laurel Shelter. Toepick only stopped for a moment to check the guide, but I would linger a few extra minutes to down a few snacks before catching back up with her. Several opportunities for views were missed today due to the always present fog including: Jones Meadow, Whiterock Cliff, Blackstack Cliffs, and a stretch of exposed ridge line trail. A wooden sign marks where the AT heads up towards the ridge line or, if bad weather is eminent, offers a side trail. Previous hikers, using sharpies, wrote the following for each trail option: for the exposed ridge line trail, "bouldering, harder, view", and for the bad weather trail, "original AT route, easier, no shame." We of course stuck to the current AT route and were soon crossing a thin, rocky ridge line, walls of fog blocking the nearly 360-degree views. I remembered crossing this ridge line two years ago with Burnsides and Moosehead, stopping to chat with some trail maintainers who were installing a plaque on a rock, commemorating Howard McDonald, a master trail builder. The plaque looked as new as the day they installed it nearly two years ago now. The mike-and-a-half stretch slowed us down as we navigated a series of boulders and rock scrambles, slowed by the slick rocks and blowing wind. Odin would occasionally run ahead and top a high boulder, looking down on us from above. I was able to grab a picture of him with a goofy grin on his face.Our next checkpoint was the Jerry Cabin Shelter, 10 miles in, where we'd stop for lunch. As Toepick and I jammed in some food and water, Odin slept in a little ball on the ground. The remainder of the day was similar to the first half: more fog, more mud, more trail. I grabbed a picture of the gravestone of Howard C. Bassett who, in 1968, hiked the AT. After his death in 1987, his ashes were placed on this little spot of the trail. We hiked over Big Butt Mountain, too, which is saying something, I guess.At 5:15pm Toepick, Odin, and me strolled into the Flint Mountain Shelter where most of the same company from last night's shelter were already relaxing, eating, or doing camp chores. Only four people are sharing the shelter tonight which is a nice treat and ensures plenty of wiggle room. Two guys are on one elevated platform, and Toepick and I are on the other, Odin tucked warmly in between us on his sleeping pad. It's just after 7:00pm as I wrap this entry up, and every hiker is already bedded down for the night. It's still light out, and I can just see the top of a mountain we'll have to start up in the morning, standing a few hundred vertical feet overhead. Odin just had a quick dream, his feet running in place.Although it'll be a cool night, with lows expected to be in the mid-to-upper 30's, I'm fortunate to be dry and warm after a cold and wet day. Having both Toepick and Odin between me and the shelter entrance, aka any visiting bears, is also a rather comforting thought. Until tomorrow.