Date: 2017-03-24
From: Newfound Gap TN/NC

To: Tri-Corner Knob Shelter, TN/NC
Miles today: 16.1

Day 17: Newfound Gap, TN/NC to Tri-Corner Knob Shelter, TN/NC - 16.1 miles:Sleep wouldn't quite find me last night. After a late journal and mindlessly watching TV in order to help tune out the constant throbbing in my feet, it was close to 1:30am when I finally tried for sleep. I'd toss and turn, asking my feet to let me sleep, but before I knew it, 7am rolled around and my body was wanting to get up like it was still on the trail. A little after 8am, Toepick texted to say they were up and wanted breakfast. We hopped into the Kia rental only to cover a couple blocks til we reached the Breakfast Camp. Like everything in the Gatlinburg-Pigeon Forge area, everything is created for tourists to notice, file in like cattle, hand over their money, and leave feeling as though they had a genuine experience.The Breakfast Camp was no different; from the moment you walk in, you feel as though you're transported back into the 1800's, and damn if you aren't a hungry cowboy or cowgirl. The walk from the parking lot helped you work up quite the appetite after all. We met two other hikers waiting in line, and all got a table together. Over chilled glasses of water, and hot mugs of coffee, we chatted trail life until our platters of food arrive. My breakfast was no joke: two eggs sunny-side up, grits, potatoes, a hearty biscuit, some kinda corn mush, a steak slathered in sauteed mushrooms, gravy, and a nearly two-inch thick pancake slathered in butter, all served in a giant cast iron skillet. Eating everything and inching towards that "I hate my life" feeling, I knew I'd appreciate the extra calories in the hours to come.I would then travel with Toepick and Odin to Sevierville, over a half hour away, through the congested streets of Gatlinburg and Pigeon Forge. The sidewalks teamed with tourists herding in and out of countless t-shirt and souvenir shops, eateries, museums, mini golf courses, and even more t-shirt and souvenir shops. Having been a couple thousand vertical feet higher over the last few weeks now, it was strange to feel the warmth of the sun this early in the morning, already climbing in the 60s, and to see trees blooming and green grass. All is still asleep in the mountains, and all the colors, noises, people, and quick movement of cars was a bit overwhelming to the senses. We finally reached a Little Caesars where Toepick purchased six pizzas, and we were gone almost as soon as we'd arrived, back through the gauntlet of t-shirt and souvenir shops, food of all kinds, the Titanic, and the constant exchange of money, noise, movement, everything fast.We returned up to Newfound Gap, views now obstructed with a low, blowing fog, but the gap and nearly every pull-off into the Smokies packed with tourists - some enjoying a stroll along a flowing river, some gawking at the mountains overhead, others eating lunch in patches of sun. With tourists walking this way and that, some of the more adventurous ones heading into and out of the AT to the north, I said a quick goodbye to Toepick and Odin, and was back heading north at 12:45pm. Toepick would remain at the gap for the remainder of the afternoon, eager to share trail magic with any who appeared from the south. I really wanted a Coke I knew was stashed in the back of the Kia, but I remained strong. Odin was still showing signs of some kinda foot injury, favoring it all night and this morning, but Toepick will monitor it over the upcoming weekend. I hope he gets back to himself soon and that it's nothing serious.The trail was relatively well-graded and worn from the thousands of day, weekend, and thru-hikers who pass between Newfound Gap to Charlie's Bunion each year. With music in again, I would spend the first hour and a half passing slower hikers, the past two weeks having given me my mountain legs, as they huffed and puffed their way along. The first three miles took me up 1,000ft, past Icewater Spring Shelter, and to Charlie's Bunion. The fog melted away and the sun shown through within 20 minutes of me reaching Charlie's Bunion. Having not had a view two years ago, it really felt like the AT has spoiled me this time through, gifting me with the nice weather and great views I missed last time, her way of thanking me for returning. I stood for a couple minutes on that sharp rock outcropping that I Charlie's Bunion, parts of Gatlinburg and Pigeon Forge once again visible far below, and grabbed a few pictures. With the late start, though, I had miles to cover before evening fell.The remainder of the afternoon would shift between moments of sun and grand views, and a wall of blowing fog that made it seem as though the small strip of land I was walking over was all there was and ever would be. Passing the Sawteeth and Bradley's View, one offered a view, one didn't. The tourists stop at Charlie's Bunion and the trail returned to its more natural, rugged state. I would briefly catch up with "Just Kevin", now having flip-flopped with him over the past week, chatting briefly each time. After a few minutes of catching up, I would return to my pace, and he was soon far behind. I wouldn't see another hiker until hours later, within 20 minutes of reaching my goal for the day.What I did see, however, were mountains full of life, the kind you normally don't notice because it's not of the crawling, biting, flying, or killing kind. While climbing up and over Mt Sequoyah and Mt Chapman, I noticed and watched for the different kinds and colors of moss covering the trunks of both standing and fallen trees lining the trail. All the greens- lime, Kelly, forest, and Hunter - were there to enjoy. Wrapped around downed logs, draped from rock faces, and covering the forest floor, the mosses played no favorites. Other than the richness of a blue sky and the blinding white of snow, it's been the only other visual stimulus so far.As I rounded a corner of the trail, I noticed there familiar hikers up ahead who I hadn't yet met, but knew through Toepick sharing. Enter Momma Bear, Little Foot, and Double Barrel. Momma Bear appears to be in her upper 20s or lower 30s, good for her age, regardless, and is thru-hiking with her five year old son, Little Foot. Even after nearly 12 miles on the day, I could tell Little Foot still had a reservoir of energy that adult hikers seem to lack, or are unwilling to tap into. Toepick had told me he was running and playing with Odin during yesterday's trail magic, and I now could see what she meant. I exchanged a few comments with them, but felt kinda bad having told them, from my guesstimation at my pace, that I believed the shelter was no more than 20 minutes away. A few bends in the trail and a hill later, I was relieved to know I was accurate.My relief with having reached 16.1 miles in just under six hours was short-lived when I realized the shelter and few campsites around were already full by yet another bubble I've caught up to. I sat off to the side alone, downing a 500-calorie honey bun and drinking my first water since breakfast, mindlessly listening to all the different banter and conversations, hearing just noise and no actual words. I was more focused on finding a place to get horizontal. As nice as the Smokies have been this time through, this is why my goal has been to get through them as quickly as possible, so I can get back to camping wherever, and not having to worry about reaching a mandatory shelter before other hikers. I found an area down a sharp slope that'll work; it has to. The spot is too small and slanted to set up my tent, but it does come with a free log that I've used as a side/back brace to keep me from rolling down the mountain into oblivion. By staking he corners of my rain-fly into the mountainside and holding it up with my trekking poles, I've created a shelter. Though open on the bottoms, it will hopefully help by keeping out 10% of the cold. I'll take what I can get.Tomorrow will be a day as difficult as the climb up into the Smokies two days ago. However, this time it'll be in reverse as I drop out of them. If I can hit my goal tomorrow, it will have me dropping nearly 5,000ft in elevation over a span of 17.5 miles. As I wrap up this journal in my little shelter on a mountainside, my back shoved up against this log I hope doesn't fail me overnight, my feet are once again throbbing, preventing comfort from finding me. Whether I reach my goal tomorrow or not, one thing I'm certain about is it will be hell on my feet and knees tomorrow night.