Date: 2011-04-24
From: Uncle Johnny's Nolichucky Hostel

To: 1.1 miles before Clyde Smith Shelter
Miles today: 25.7
Weather: broken clouds

(In which I celebrate Easter with fudge)In Erwin I see BAM for the first time since the stormy night at Sassafras Gap Shelter. It takes me a moment to recognize him, and the I realize that it's because he's not with his hiking partner, the running enthusiast. Maximus, he tells me sadly, has gone off the trail. I ask him why, since he seemed like he was having fun and was making good progress. BAM shrugs. "If anything, I think he thought the trail was too easy," BAM says, bewildered. "His favorite days were when the weather was rough or when we would hike big miles. Once I said I would go up ahead for a bit. He saw that I had started hiking fast, so he started hiking just as fast, and soon we were in race mode. When we got to the top of the mountain, panting, he turned to me and grinned, saying 'That was awesome!' "BAM tells me how hiking the trail was Maximus's idea in the first place, having proposed it to BAM all the way back in the summer 2009. BAM is disappointed to be hiking alone now, but doesn't even consider going off trail. I've read similar stories on Trail Journals and elsewhere, and in each story I've read, the person who is left on the trip that wasn't their idea has always stuck it out. Perhaps the shock of the loss of the instigator is enough to solidify their resolve, or perhaps by that time they have had enough time to find their own reasons for hiking. I've met several people who had planned on hiking the trail with someone else who proposed it and then backed out before starting, so perhaps the seed of an idea is all it takes to grow someone's interest enough to hike.In Erwin I also meet Falling Turtle for the first time. Before I started my hike, Falling Turtle was one of the only daily Trail Journals updaters, so I followed her progress every day, vicariously living the trail through her entries. She has diabetes and an insulin pump (I know this from her journal), and when I ask she explains her water-based chemical cooling system for keeping her insulin relatively cool when the weather gets hot, though she says she hasn't needed it yet. I feel slightly awkward in her presence, like I am meeting a minor celebrity, but I am glad to finally put a face and voice to her words.I get up early and watch a shuttle full of slackpackers leave to be dropped off 21 miles down the trail and hike back. Since they will return to the hostel that night, they can leave most of their gear there, and need carry only small daypack with food and water. The hostel runs these shuttles, charging 10 dollars for the ride out and another 10 dollars to return to the spot the next morning. It makes good business sense for the hostel, since they can also get an additional night's board from each slackpacker, and gives hikers a rare day off from carrying their heavy pack.I myself have little incentive to slack, since my pack is already very light (lighter with my new summer gear), and much of the weight is in my camera, which I would want with me. I would also be hesitant to slack southbound, as these slackpackers are, since hiking down both sides of the same mountain wouldn't fit with my personal goals for thru-hiking. I am happy that these hikers are slacking southbound, however, since I will get to see them coming in the other direction midday and can trade intel on our respective upcoming trail, a novelty without any SoBo thru-hikers on the trail yet.The weather is warm and sunny, but I still linger at Johnny's, knowing that I will miss the place. When I do start hiking it is already starting to get hot out, and I stop at the first shelter, five miles out of town, for a snack. Three hikers are already hanging out eating breakfast, and I join them. After eating a bagel with cheese (swiss, I decide regretfully, has nothing on cheddar), I remember my fudge from my mail drop. Fearing for it in the day's heat and remembering that it is Easter, I offer everyone a piece of fudge. The shelter fills with the of moans of decadence, and then two more hikers show up, and one piece each becomes two.Velvet, a previously confessed chocolate lover, is overcome with ecstasy. I tell him that my grandmother made the fudge, and he is profuse with his gratitude. "Tell your grandmother," he says, the urgency of a dying man in his voice, "that that was the best fudge I have ever had." He pauses to savor the last remaining corner of his piece. "And that's not just the hiker stomach talking," he adds. Watching yesterday's pound of fudge vanish before my eyes, I offer everyone one last piece, and save the three pieces that remain for later. I am astonished that so much of the fudge was consumed so quickly, but am glad to have been able to have shared an Easter treat with appreciative hikers. Though I am not religious, it is sometimes nice to have an excuse for generosity.My pack, with its new sleeping bag and fewer clothes, feels amazing on my back. Though I have only saved a couple of pounds, the difference is noticeable and for the first time my pack feels as light as it looks.Around 2pm I meet the first of the slackpackers. I have been slowly hiking uphill in the hot sun all morning, and am surprised to find that I have hiked further than the slackpackers in less time. Another advantage of not slacking occurs to me, which is that if I choose I can hike more miles today.I stop for lunch in the mountain's one patch of shade that Guinness, slacking south for the day with her dog Alley, has already found. We sit near the summit gazing down at the view and enjoying the tiny island of cool on the mountain of hot. Guinness has hiked much of the trail before, completing several hundred miles of a NoBo attempt in 2006, and has the confidence and excitement of a former hiker back on the trail.I find more shelter from the sun up the trail at the top of the next summit, which is covered with a dense spruce forest. The forest looks like an illustration from a Chris Van Allsburg book, and I stop to take a break and appreciate the scenery. By the time I exit the forest, it has become cloudy with a cool breeze, and it feels wonderful to hike in. I keep hiking until it gets dark, wanting to take advantage of the weather. I stop to set up my tent before I reach the next shelter so that I can stay up to eat and write in my journal without disturbing anyone.By the time I have my tent set up the light is gone and I turn my my headlamp off and eat in the dark, watching the stars and enjoying the silence.