Date: 2017-03-19
From: Cold Spring Shelter

To: Nantahala Outdoor Center (NOC), NC
Miles today: 11.7

Day 12: Cold Spring Shelter, NC to the NOC, NC - 11.7 miles:Very little sleep again due to the angle of my rain fly to the slope behind my tent. Cold air rushed up and in through the gap between it and my tent, leaving me shivering for most of the night. It may not have been like the cold of last week, but a night spent shivering is as bad as any. I waited as long as I could in the morning for the sun to rise, but also wanted to get moving so I could reach the Nantahala Outdoor Center (NOC) by early afternoon to enjoy lunch and relax before tomorrow's big climb out of the deep gorge cut by the river over millennia. With my hands instantly in pain due to the cold, I worked as quickly as I could, which was slow, to break camp and get to hiking. The sun finally appeared about 10 minutes before I got the trail, but it's take a while to feel it's warmth. Another morning wearing multiple layers, my balaclava, and a beanie.With just under 12 miles to the NOC, I was familiar with the stretch from my first hike, and knew I could maintain a decent pace. With music in, the morning miles passed quickly, pausing several times to grab pictures, enjoy a summit view atop Rocky Bald, and an observation tower. Though I could've easily wasted away more time enjoying the rolling mountains in the sunshine atop the tower, I knew I was only 4 miles from the NOC, resting in a valley ~2,500 vertical feet below me. For the next mile or so, the trail ran along one of the thinnest ridges on the trail, a buffer zone of only a few feet on either side of the trail before a fall of hundreds of feet. This area, too, had been left scorched from the previous year's fires, and the faint smell of smoke still lingered in the now warming air. The ridge reached its climax at "the jump-off," a rocky point at the end of a ridge, a lone tree sticking out, where the trail takes a sharp turn, nearly 180-degrees before dropping lower.Covering good time as the thought of a Coke and real food tempted me, the previous morning's breakfast baby acquired at the church in Franklin now a distant memory, I passed by eight hikers who were obviously not as hungry as myself. At 1:30pm, I descended from the final ridge and exited the woods on near an intersection of two roads, the NOC located around the junction. The NOC consists of several buildings, all catering to the outdoor enthusiast, as well as the tourists passing through. A large outfitter with a large selection of anything a hiker or kayaker could want sits to the right. To the left, across from the outfitter is a restaurant, End of the River, which was calling my name. Across the street from the restaurant is a general store, offering a small selection of goods, mainly to passing hikers or motorists, the prices hiked up, of course. It was my first stop, of eventually a couple, to grab a Coke. With it in hand, I went I to the restaurant where I'd kill the next hour putting the roaring lion in my stomach to rest.I enjoyed an overpriced appetizer and lunch of chips and salsa and a chili-cheese burger and fries, conveniently dubbed the "Mile Post 134." The current mileage is closer to 137, though, so, along with lowering the prices of their food, updating the name would be my only other suggestion. The meal was still delicious and satisfying. A couple of TV's were playing the Louisville-Michigan game, but I only took a few glances. Even March Madness, along with any real form of everyday entertainment or social media, takes a backseat when hiking; it's just simply not important. I made my way outside where a handful of other hikers lounged and chatted in the sun. I lost my layered clothes for the first time in days, enjoying the warm sun against my skin. It was nice to see the slight bulges of leg muscles now present.Within minutes, I noticed a familiar object working its way down the ridge in front of me - Odin. Behind him was Toepick, having crushed it and made 17 miles by 3pm. Odin was happy to see me and came right to me. Toepick played it cool, but she was happy to see me again too. It had only been 24 hours since we split, but the trail has a way of making time seem much longer. I accompanied them both to the general store to grab some snacks, then we lounged in the sun on a picnic table next to the rapids that flow through the NOC. We chatted, watched kayakers navigate the course through the rapids, and overall just relaxed. With a ~6 mile climb out of the gorge tomorrow, resting was the only goal needing accomplished for the remainder of the day.We both spent a little time in the outfitter, printing our Smokey Mountain thru-hiker permits in the process, while I drank Coke nearly the entire time. Courageous, the mother hiking with two kids, called Toepick from across the river so we went to say hello. Having left the Top of Georgia the day before us, she informed us that both she and one of her sons had been sick and had spent nearly the entire past week off the trail. Now, however, they were feeling good and would be rejoining tomorrow. She invited us to a cabin she was renting and said her family made too much food and we needed to come help take care of it. We agreed. We first walked down along the river to a secluded campsite not listed in the guidebook, and that few hikers know of unless heard by word-of-mouth. I camped here with General Burnsides and Moosehead , and remember falling asleep to the sound of rapids just below the campsite.After camp was set, we returned to Courageous' cabin with her two sons, a handful of hikers, and eventually a hoard of Wisconsin students spending their spring break biking in the area. As they made a massive feast of spaghetti, we enjoyed a seemingly endless supply of chili, pecan cake, and cookies so graciously offered by Courageous. She ended up giving a ton of it to the college students who, after putting in ~80 miles in the saddle today, had acquired a hunger equal to that of a thru-hiker. We eventually made our way back to camp as the sun began slipping behind the mountain to the west of the gorge. We spent ~20 minutes sitting on a log chatting, Odin asleep in a variety of weird positions behind us, before making our way to our tents.While Toepick is in her typical setup, I've decided to half-cowboy camp. Using a slight depression in the ground, I simply staked my rain-fly, held up by my trekking poles, and am sleeping in the natural bowl beneath. I like to think it'll save me precious minutes in the morning as we break camp, especially if cold, but Toepick is probably right in that I should've just set up my tent as usual. For now, as I wrap up this journal, the plump pile of leaves I'm bedded down on feels comfortable. Hoping for a restful night.With this being the last real spot to potentially charge my gadgets for some time, possibly a week or more as I make my way towards, through, and out of the Smokies, I will do my best to conserve what battery life I have. The best way to do so will be to condense my entries a bit. Sorry, guys, no poop detailsThanks to everyone for the ongoing support. As always, it's much appreciated. Time to climb.