Date: 2004-04-25
From: Carter Gap

To: Maintenance & Logistics 
Miles today: 12.8

Old habits are hard to break. Another lousy sleep. Other hikers continue to experience this festering problem.Fortunately, the hiking today was relatively easy, with few difficult ascents. The hardest climb was Mount Albert, a 5,220 foot mountain with steep slopes. During the ascent, I had to stop on several occasions to catch my breath. But what a view!This trail naming tradition is something I am slowly adjusting to. When other hikers introduce themselves to me, they often state only their trail names. I identify myself first with my real name, and then state my trail name, "Paparazzi." As I become more immersed in the culture of the tail, I might use only my trail name during interactions with other hikers; it is a custom which I need time to get used to.Chris (from the first night) has recently taken a trail name called "Navigator." It was given to him by Eric, a section hiker I have become friendly with. The name is appropriate. Chris frequently studies the trail map and can always answer questions about distances.While taking a lunch break on the summit of Mount Albert, I gave John (from the first night) a trail name.He drinks voluminous amounts of water, sometimes up to six liters per day. So with Chris, Eric, and Alexyus present, I suggested that his trail name be "Chug." The name has stuck.So from now on, Chris from the first night (who is 31 years old) will be called Navigator in this journal. The same will apply to John from the first night (26 years old?); he will henceforth be called Chug. Someone told me that an AT hiker from a previous year had the trail name, "Breaking Wind." I can only imagine the reaction from hikers in crowded shelters when that person showed up and introduced himself.After lunch, I hiked for several miles with Navigator. We passed through several beautiful stands of rhododendron shrubs. The water sources were plentiful.The pain in the muscles on the right side of my back has grown worse. As it turns out, the reason for this has nothing to do with reaching forward at an odd angle over a stream¢my initial assumption. The explanation is mechanical. The internal frame of my backpack needs repair. A fiberglass rod which runs the length of one side has torn a hole in the bottom of the fabric. It was sticking out the bottom of the pack. The suspension on that side of the pack has been rendered ineffective. As a result, some muscles on my back are getting sore. I need to get into a town and either get it repaired, or telephone the manufacturer and make arrangements for the shipment of a loaner backpack. A simple duck tape or sewing job will probably not be an effective remedy to this problem, given the pressure exerted on that specific part of the backpack.Navigator and I hit a stroke of luck at a road crossing. A driver had been dropping off a hiker. He offered to give us a lift to the town of Franklin, North Carolina. There, we intended to obtain our supplies for the next ten days of hiking, especially for the stretch of trail in The Great Smoky Mountains.   Before driving into Franklin, the driver took us to nearby Rainbow Springs, where there is a campground and an outfitter, each one a separate business. My drift box (mailed from Hiawassee, Georgia) and my elusive ATM card (mailed from Neels Gap, Georgia) were supposedly waiting for me at this location. This time the ATM card had arrived; it was at the outfitter's shop. There the employees were pleasant.Next door at the campground, I inquired if a postal delivery had arrived in my name. Right from the get go, the woman behind the counter told me that a holding fee of $2.50 would be charged to receive the mail. My immediate reaction was that I was being exploited. I had intended to purchase some supplies at their store as a courtesy for their holding my delivery, but I decided against it. And as it turned out, my mail delivery had not arrived after all.We departed the campground with section hiker Eric, who decided to travel to Franklin with Navigator and me rather then staying at a hostel operated by the campground.The drive to the town center took about fifteen minutes. I chatted with the driver, who only minutes before had never expected that he would be sharing his vehicle with three grubby, smelly men. We booked a room in an inexpensive motel called The Haven. The owner is an ex professional wrestler. What a nice guy! He offered to drive us around town to perform errands. In our room, there were two beds and three of us, which meant that someone would have to sleep on the floor. Eric reached into his backpack and took out some M&M's. Two blue M&M's and one green M&M were placed in a container. Without looking into the container, we each drew out an M&M and held it hidden from view. We agreed that whoever revealed the green one would sleep on the floor. We did the "one-two-three" cadence and revealed our colors. The green M&M appeared in Navigator's hand. He rolled his head back and gave a shout. It was a funny moment.The evening was devoted to visiting a laundromat, grabbing a bite to eat, and most importantly, purchasing foodstuffs for our upcoming hikes. For a while, our motel room looked like a bomb had gone off inside of it. Strewn all over the place were boxes, packages of food, laundry, assorted hiking gear, and backpacks.It is highly recommended that hikers mail a sizable food drop to a location called Fontana Dam; that is where the trail ascends into The Great Smoky Mountains. From here in Franklin, it is about six hiking days to Fontana Dam. Apparently, the re-supply options at Fontana Dam are inadequate. I have also prepared a package of food for another location in between here and Fontana Dam. This smaller package is my "drift box" which bounces from one post office to another. Besides containing food, it contains items like a razor, shaving cream, extra Zip lock bags, and other things that are useful in towns but would constitute unnecessary weight and space on the trail. A drift box is not a necessity, but most of the hikers I have met are utilizing this approach. One thing is for sure, the logistics of re-supply is something that can not be ignored.   Several other hikers are staying at this motel. One of them has been here for one week, recovering from tendonitis which afflicted him when he pushed too hard and fast on the trail.Tomorrow, I am going to bring my backpack over to a shoe repairman in town. Perhaps he can repair the tear in that crucial spot.Navigator and Chris are dozing off. It's time I did the same.