Date: 2004-05-25
From: Overmountain Shelter, NC/TN

To: On the Rocks
Miles today: 11.4

This morning at Overmountain Shelter, Knuckles wondered out loud if she was the only person feeling down during yesterday's hike. I told her that I was glad to hear someone else admit to feeling the way I did. We both surmised that a lack of sleep was a reason for our previously downbeat moods.After leaving the shelter, I began ascending the upper slope of Little Hump Mountain (5,459 feet), a bald top. The sun was warming my back. At my feet, dozens of grasshoppers were leaping about as I passed them by. There was a spring to my step. I thought to myself that this was going to be a good day. I approached a formation of large rocks situated beside the trail on the bald top¢an open, grassy expanse. These rocks fascinated me. There was something primitive about their appearance. Geologists estimate that the rocks in this region are the oldest in the Appalachian Mountains with an estimated age of 2 1/2 billion years. I walked among these rocks, then stopped and pressed my hands against one of them. The surface of the rock, slightly rough in texture, had been warmed by the sun. As I held my hands against this rock, I took in the scene around the formation.A sea of tall grass, lush from springtime rains, was swishing about in the wind. When a particularly strong gust of wind passed among the bald, the swirling sea of grass would appear almost white as the blades of grass bent over and the sun glared on their sides. Small trees, their growth stunted from harsh winter conditions, hardly moved in the breeze. Black butterflies flew among the grasses. Up in the sky, several vultures were soaring. Nearby mountains dominated the background of this primal, savannah-like expanse. It was easy to imagine a clan of caveman, with spears in their hands, camping among these rocks. To view this wild, primitive setting was like going back into a different epoch of time.In the distance, a sole hiker was ascending the bald. As he drew closer, I noticed a wooden stick in one of his hands. He was hunched over, eyeing the path at his feet. When he got closer, I noticed that he was wearing earphones and wires¢a portable music system of some kind. My primal fantasy ended with the arrival of this technology.I recognized the man. He is a thru hiker I have known since back in the Great Smoky Mountains. We have camped several times at the same shelters."Samurai!" I shouted.He did not reply and kept walking. I shouted twice more. He removed the earphones from his ears. I could hear the faint sounds of fast music. He spotted me and approached the rocks.Samurai told me that he was slack packing with Zip Off and Kato, the men who are using two vehicles to support their hikes. I spent quite a while relaxing in the rock formation and shooting the breeze with Samurai. I told him that this location was my favorite one on the tail so far.Hiking again, I ascended the bald at Hump Mountain, which provided spectacular views.After that, I began hiking fast in order to put some miles under my belt. I have planned for two more days of hiking to reach a road crossing where I intend to visit a hostel and obtain a ride into a town in order to resupply.The trail descended for a few miles which enabled me to hike fast. Still, it became obvious that I would not achieve my goal of hiking fifteen miles; that distance would have made tomorrow's hike to the hostel shorter and easier. I crossed a road near Elk Park, North Carolina. That town has a reputation as the least hiker friendly community on the Appalachian Trail. I don't know for sure the reason for this, but was told it stems from the government's decision years ago to force a mine to close for reasons of conservation. At the road crossing near Elk Park, there are signs warning hikers to avoid parking their cars at night due to a high level of vandalism. At another road crossing a short distance away, someone had dumped household trash directly on the trail. I wondered if the trash was a random act of littering or a deliberate affront to unwelcomed hikers.Tonight, I am camping alone on a hill near Elk Park. There is no established campsite on this hill. While cooking my supper alongside the trail, the quietude was interrupted by the noisy arrival of three young men driving all terrain motorcycles and a four wheel ATV. I stood up in the middle of the trail and motioned them to stop. They were surprised to see a person cooking beside the path. I told them to take it slow to avoid knocking over my pot. They said they would turn around instead, and they departed.I am a tad concerned that some of the local Elkites are aware of my presence, but chances are there won't be any problems.I am writing this entry inside my hammock. It is dark out. A drop of water just fell through the mosquito netting and landed on my hand. What's up with that? It's time to go outside and place my tarp over the hammock.