Date: 2018-03-16
From: NeelÃÂÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂs Gap

To: Low Gap
Miles today: 11.5
Weather: few clouds

I shuttled back to the trailhead at Neel¢s Gap from Misty Mountain Inn with three other fellows in their 60¢s. They told of a hiker they encountered that was walking with a pair of sandals through the snow and freezing weather. He had no food, and a swastika tattooed on his forehead like Charles Manson. Apparently the authorities came and got him.  I also heard a tale of a man who recently lived in an AT shelter locally for two weeks. He was quite OCD about the place and kept it spotless. He even wiped out the bear box daily with baby wipes to keep it sparkling clean.At the outfitters, I mailed a small box of items back home, basically enough to half fill a Walmart bag. The fee for them to put the plastic bag into a used box and seal it up (all of 15 seconds work) and to ship it home was probably four times what it would cost at the post office. The clever little attendant said with a sadistic grin, that my other options were to hitchhike to town and send it through the post office, or put the gear into the hiker¢s box for donation.  Then I went to the other side of the store to get some new insoles because the pricy ones I started with were shredding my feet. The young fellow helping me gave me three expensive pairs to try. None of them felt like they were much better than the ones I had. He said my only other option was to hitch a ride to Walmart in the next town and get a cheap pair. And so I chose the least bad expensive pair they had for my feet.I picked up an extra lighter and some Advil packets.  Then I went to the register, turned around, bent over, and let the checkout clerk spank my already chaffed behind as I handed him my credit card.And so with severely blistered feet and a chapped ass, I walked past the Quitting Tree and through the Walayesi breezeway, of which the AT runs through, and continued my walk in the woods.I stopped to briefly chat with Turtle, a hiker about my age from Kentucky who got his trail name because of his hiking speed (similar to my own speed).  At the top of the ridge I came across a Gnome fairy village neatly placed under a tree.  I smiled, snapped a picture and moved on.Later, I hiked a small piece with Tugboat, a 68 year old hiker from around Allentown. I found a brand new expensive pair of gloves on the trail as we were hiking and gave them to Tugboat because he felt sure he knew whom they belonged to.  Later, I met up with a retired Mail Carrier from Clearwater Beach (where my brother lives). His first words to me were, ¢Did you happen to find a pair of gloves back there?¢¢Yes, I sure did.  Almost stepped on those fancy things. Tugboat has them.¢Relief swept across his face, ¢They really put it to me at the outfitters.  Those dang things cost a fortune.¢¢I know exactly what you mean!¢Tugboat caught up to us as we took a break at Tesnatee Gap where owner and gloves were reunited.I hit it off real well with the chatty fellow from the Sunshine State (I can¢t recall his name), and we hiked together for quite a long piece. We got our picture taken overlooking Wildcat Mountain.  There are no guard rails on the AT, but their should be.  As I was making room for a southbound group of hikers, the earth gave way at the top of a steep ravine. I jammed my trekking pole between some rocks as I fell backwards and grabbed a sapling that kept me from tumbling down the cliff like a wildly bouncing tire pushed from atop the Grand Canyon.  The end of my trekking pole looked like a C but it surely saved me from serious injury.Good conversation made the miles slip by as we shared our life stories in a relatively short period of time.  We discussed staying together as a group, waiting for Tugboat and Turtle, and perhaps sharing lodging expenses. I liked that idea a lot because they were my kind of people.However, when we came to the next shelter, I felt the urge to move on and pick up some more miles for the day.  I had Hiawassee on the brain and hoped to see my Mountaineer play on TV in the NCAA Men¢s Basketball Tournament.During our walk before separating, we stopped to converse with a man briskly day hiking with his dog. He was close to seventy and appeared to be in terrific condition.  He spoke with an Italian accent and told us he lived in the area. He used to serve in the military special forces but these days he and his dog hike several miles each day.  One day many years ago while hiking on Blood Mountain, he slipped and fell on a patch of ice. He was paralyzed from the neck down and the doctors told him he would never walk again. Since then, he has hiked the Appalachian Trail three times. He said hiking has regenerated his spine and he¢s not about to give it up now as his aging body is starting to loose mass.  He and his dog have hiked nearly 14,000 miles together. Their new goal is 20,000 miles. I stumbled into the Low Gap campsite alone after a splendid but exhausting day of hiking. I did nearly 12 miles, by far the most miles to date. I already missed my new friend who¢s name I never got (or forgot).  I pitched my tent, filtered some water in a stream, exploded my pack inside my tent, set up my air mattress, cooked some mashed potatoes with olive oil and Vienna sausages, hung my bear bag, called my honey, talked to my brother-in-law, foot care, personal hygiene...and then slept less bad than I have since I started hiking the AT.