Date: 2019-04-17
From: Erwin

To: Cherry Gap shelter
Miles today: 17.1
Weather: broken clouds

Waking up inside is strange. It's still dark in the motel room but it's almost seven and I can't sleep any longer. So I dress and grab OJ, coffee, and toast in the lobby while the other guys rouse themselves. Morph and Womble are here, hoping to get to Walmart to buy hard-to-find earphones compatible with their iPhone.I had made arrangements with a guy at the bar last night to pick us up this morning and take us to the trail, but I guess to no one's surprise he doesn't show. So I call Uncle Johnny's. While we're waiting I go out for last minute breakfast sandwiches at Bojangles and iced teas.Zoso picks us up again. Uncle Johnny's is bustling with hikers coming and going. A guy named Tikka comes in and tells me I have lines under my eyes, same as last he saw me, so I must be tired. Also his trekking poles are falling apart and his pack is ripping. I can't get away from him quickly enough. Last thing I need when leaving town is a depressing conversation.I hike out over the Nolichucky, bringing up the rear again. For the first few miles the hiking is pleasant, the weather is beautiful, and the woods feel familiar. But soon the first big climb comes, part of what will be almost 4000 feet elevation gain to today's high point, Unaka Mountain. It's hard to leave town - it's always uphill, your pack is full of food, and of course you're leaving all the comforts and conveniences behind for another four or five days in the woods. Everyone is dragging. Especially Fast Lane, who is sick to his stomach from something he ate yesterday.Up to the first shelter for lunch and to Beauty Spot bald beyond, we leapfrog one another and many others: Sea Legs, who lives on his boat in the Chesapeake, Spruce Lee and Shiitake, NOLA from New Orleans, True from Chicago, Fatty B (Fat Bastard), and 3 members of the Wounded Warriors thruhiking team. Every year they sponsor ten or so vets working out PTSD or other issues, equip and train them, and give them a stipend. They are paid to hike. The idea is, as WWII vet and first thruhiker Earl Shaffer said, "to walk the war out". I first encountered one of these vets, Matt, in Maine two years ago and I recall he was still quite bitter. This crew seems more upbeat and enjoying their hike. Stopping for lunch at Curley Maple Gap shelter I find a young guy named Mad Dog who I remember from Hot Springs. He is drinking a tiny bottle of apple-flavored whiskey. There are at least four empties lined up in front of him. Alcohol on trail is usually limited to trail magic beers or the rare shared flask around a campfire, always a social phenomenon. Pounding whiskey shots by yourself at ten in the morning denotes the same thing it would off trail. While I head out before Mad Dog, I later learn he hiked on and fell off the trail, rolling down the hill a bit. No injury, fortunately.A few miles later at Indian Grave Gap we get unexpected trail magic from a Catholic missionary from Ohio. He and his dog Moses have been here every day since March 5th! Tea, lemonade, brownies, poundcake, and a camp chair make for a welcome break before climbing up to Beauty Spot.Beauty Spot is a grassy bald with full circle views of the Blue Ridge mountains and back to Erwin. A dozen hikers are lounging here as a respite from hiking in the warm temperatures. Mike (formerly Aquaman) is among them, and still refusing any name that doesn't come naturally. He would like a clever name like She-talkie-too-much (Shiitake).I could rest here a long time, but I now have a shuttle scheduled for my exit on Friday so I need to make miles. Clammy and I head up Unaka for what seems a never-ending rocky ascent with many false summits. Clammy reminisces about his PCT adventures. It sounds like a great experience, maybe someday I will have a chance to hike part of it. Eventually we find ourselves hiking through a cool, dark, quiet, green spruce forest over the summit. The last few miles to the shelter are mostly downhill and less rocky.I had planned to go a few miles past the shelter to shorten tomorrow's hike over the Roan Highlands. But recognizing tonight may be my last night with my tramily I stay put and set up my tent.I make dinner and eat with Fern, a woman from Rotorua in New Zealand's north island (where active geysers spurt out of the ground), and Burner, a girl who burned some dinners and melted some plastic before getting the hang of her stove. Burner was tenting at Jerry's Cabin shelter when the Jeep drove through. Apparently it didn't get stuck right away, but only after driving a mile down trail to the shelter, around it, and back, frightening her and her tenting neighbors. The two occupants then stumbled back to the shelter around three in the morning cold and hungry, thinking it was someone's house. The hikers gave them food and shelter space, but eventually the couple got scared and ran off.UNICEF comes in a little later, but there's no sign of Fast Lane. We assume he stealth camped in a gap, feeling too sick to continue. Hopefully we see him early tomorrow. If he's like the other folks who have gotten sick recently, he will be over it quickly.I make a campfire to while away the hour or so before sunset. Much of the fallen wood is damp or young so it takes awhile for the fire to be self-sustaining. Shiitake, Spruce Lee, Rocket Man, Buzz, and Downhill join UNICEF and I. The last three are new to me. It's past Clammy's bedtime so he's already horizontal in his tent. UNICEF breaks out a deck of cards he's been asking people to sign as a souvenir. I've already signed the Jack of Clubs (random selection) with the admonition "Pete Best was better than Ringo", a reference to my inevitable departure from our Fab Four.