Date: 2004-04-03
From: Fontana Dam, NC

To: Fontana Dam, NC (hotel)
Miles today: 0.0
Weather: scattered clouds

Woke up early, as usual. Filled the tub with HOT water and soaked. It was pure luxury, even without bubbles.Had breakfast with the gang, saying "see you on the trail" to those who were heading out today.Mosied to the outfitters here to buy more liner sox. Got a hole in one already. Then to the post office to pick up a mail drop. Another gathering of hikers. Saturday hours are 10 to 12. I puffed back to my room and split my box, made two jumpboxes and mailed home a small package of maps completed.The remainder of the day was hanging out in the sun, reading and a nap. Long conversation with Paul. The peach tree at home is full of blooms. I haven't had a nap in three weeks, it was great. The dinner crowd had a few new faces that had come in this morning. Lots of faces gone on ahead. Discussion of Gatlinburg places to stay.Early on in the walk, conversations with folks were about why we were on the trail. Interesting reasons. None making any sense if one takes the time to think about it. Summer camp in Maine, seeing the trail and learning it goes all the way to Georgia. Seeing a thruhiker once when she was 10 years old and thinking they were better then rock stars. Coming back from a cross country bike tour and realizing he didn't have to always be working. Got asked by a college friend to join him only to have his friend drop off, but thinks this is a good way to start a new life since his divorce was just finalized. Someone asked me why. All I know is that I have spent most of my hiking days west of the Mississippi. And this is east. I only know I've been fascinated with a continuous trail from Maine to Georgia. Of course since I first learned of the AT in the 70's, there is now the Pacific Crest Trail and a smudge of a Continental Divide Trail. This is a part of the country I have little familiarity. It's different.In Colorado one can spend a whole day going up thousands of feet in elevation. Here, one can spend all day going up thousands of feet in elevation, 1000 feet at a time several times in a day.Conversations now consist of "wasn't that hill right outside of X a whopper!" "I thought maybe I wasn't on the trail, then I turned around and there's a blaze!" Some of the solo hikers are becoming an informal clan moving together, catching up every so many days. We catch up with our aches and pains, our whining and our amazements.I finally have names for some of the flowers I'm starting to see. Wild geraniums, bluets, giant trillium, wild strawberry blooms. Probably won't be seeing too many in the next few days, heading up into more cold weather and maybe more snow.I walk slow, by noon, mostly walk alone. My thoughts are focused on breathing when I go up hill, focused on where my feet are going downhill.The ridges are brutal when there is a wind, a delight when sunny and clear, the views are breath taking. Trudging in blistering cold wind, all I can think of is keep walking to stay warm. Noticing little sprouts coming through the dirt along side of the trail. When I stop to take a breather, I listen to my heart racing. Breathe, slow it down, and trudge up another few hundred feet upward. Stop at what the handbook says is a vista, the weather only shows me fog.Feeling relief and dread when I head down into a valley, relief from the wind, dread at the slippery slopes. Then I come on a rock crossing a stream, a microcosm of ferns, lichen and moss. Reminding me there is a spring.Tomorrow, I head out. A long day of climbing, up into the Great Smokey Mountains. Namaste'