Date: 2013-05-22
From: Beauty Spot Gap 

To: Iron Mountain Gap
Miles today: 7.9
Weather: scattered clouds

This will be a long post, and a serious one, so prepare yourself accordingly. First, a recap of the day:I did end up sleeping some after the horrible storm last night. That was an experience! Maybe everyone should go through that once in their life. But once was enough! What was I afraid of? I tried to sort it out as I lay in the hammock listening to and watching the storm. Realistically, I understood that the risks were so slight. What are the odds of being struck by lightning? Of having a tree fall on me? Of a tornado blowing me over Beauty Spot? Very slim. And I am a person of faith, and I believe that God has a plan for me, and if dying in a storm is part of it, then so be it, but if that's not part of my plan, then I would be ok no matter how bad the storm got. I understood that I was scared because it was scary, I wasn't scared because I thought I was going to die. But taking down in the morning was a slow process, I felt sluggish and there was mud to deal with. But eventually I was packed up and took off hiking. The first climb was up Unaka Mt. (pronounced yoo-NAKE-uh). It was a long climb, but not especially hard, and the top was covered by an evergreen forest. Yet another new type of terrain! It was really pretty. Then down, down, down. The bugs were still voracious, and I was mad at myself for forgetting to get some Bug Voyage at the craft show in Damascus. I was making slow progress because I had to stop every 90 seconds to swat the darn insects. Finally I remembered my Naturally Clean hand cleaner, and wondered if that would help because it has lavender in it. I didn't have much left, but I sprayed my hands and rubbed my face and arms with it, and it did help! I was able to hike unmolested for a while. The humidity was less, with an occasional light breeze, which helped, too. But then...thunder. Then more thunder. Then a light rain. I put the pack cover on, but no rain coat, the rain actually felt good, after all the heat and humidity. The rain came and went, but the low thunder kept rolling. I came to Cherry Gap Shelter, and decided to duck in there to wait out the storm, and I needed more water and it was time for lunch, anyway. There were two guys in the shelter, one lying down, one sitting up reading. I said hello and commented on the (by now) booming thunder. Both barely grunted at me, and neither looked up. Well.I got my water, ate some cheese and crackers, then wanted out of there, rain or no. I decided to call Greasy Creek Friendly, to see if I was going to be able to get a shuttle when I got down the mountain. I knew a big rain was coming. Connie, from Greasy Creek said there was a free shuttle leaving Iron Mt. Gap in an hour, going to town for dinner! Well, count me in. The problem was that I was 3 miles from the gap! Could I possibly walk 3 miles in an hour? Me, the tortoise, who tops at about 2 mph, for short stretches only? Well I was going to try. The trail was fortunately designed for speed in this stretch--down, up, and down, with gentle grades, and more importantly, a smooth hiking surface, with few loose rocks. So I flew down the trail, and actually made it in an hour and 10 minutes, a new land speed record for me. Connie was waiting for me in her ancient pickup truck, and we went to Johnson City for hostel errands. Now I'm back at the hostel (or at the friendly, as she calls it). It's an interesting place, as all hostels are, with a diverse group of hikers here. The sky finally opened up, and rain poured, for hours. Now here's the serious part. For the first time in my hike I am toying with the Q word-quitting. In fact, I'm more than toying with it, I'm seriously considering it. I always thought that if I left the trail without finishing, it would be for a physical reason. I thought my body was my weak link. But my body is strong, and I feel great. I believe that my body could actually carry me to Maine, no problem. When people ask me how far I'm going, I always say "As far as my body will carry me." I never invisioned myself leaving the trail for anything other than physical reasons. So what is the reason? It's complicated, I guess, but it's got to do with the social aspect, mainly. Anyone who has ever hiked the trail says the best aspect of the trail is the people, the community. The trail community. I am not really a social person, not a people person, and so I never thought I would be sensitive to a loss of community. But I feel the loss acutely right now, and it hurts. During the storm, I was afraid, and I realized that there was no one around who knew or cared if I lived or died (although I knew that I wasn't going to die--it wasn't the fear of dying, it was the knowledge that there was no one there who cared.) There was no one who cared if I was afraid. I had Mike call the hostel for a ride for me, no luck. Not that I expected complete strangers to be willing to get out at 9 pm in a raging thunderstorm to drive 30 miles to "rescue" me, when I didn't need rescued. And the lady at 911 couldn't get me off the phone fast enough. It's not that I expect people to jump to come get me when I'm scared. It's just the knowledge that there's no one around me who cares. Meanwhile, there are people who love me, who care about me, and I am far away from them. Not only that, but I am actually hurting the people I love most, in some ways, by being out here. THAT is almost the nail in the coffin of my hike. If people are the most important thing in your life (and I believe that to be true) than why am I away from my loved ones, and out here where I am invisible? Where is the famous trail community?Maybe I have learned what I needed to learn from the trail. Maybe I have accomplished what I wanted to accomplish. Maybe I have proved what I needed to prove, to myself and to anyone else. I know better than to quit the trail on a bad day, or bad string of days. I know I shouldn't make a permanent decision based on a temporary state of mind. I know there is a lot of great trail left ahead of me. I haven't made up my mind. But I'll take a zero tomorrow, stay at the hostel. Mike will pick me up Friday for the herb festival in Banner Elk. I'm falling further and further behind the bubble of hikers on the trail, but I'm not so far behind I couldn't catch up, or couldn't complete my thru hike this season. I feel depressed--the rain is still falling, and my pack is still wet. I'll write again tomorrow and keep considering my options. Maybe I should be a section hiker, go home, and come back next year and do another section.