Date: 2017-12-08
To: Amicalola 
Miles today: 7.8
Weather: overcast clouds

12/8Amicalola 7.8 milesTechnically Springer, as the terminus, was the end. But I didn't have any other option than getting up and hiking today. I'm counting it. For more official mileage, please refer to yesterday. Due to headlamp issues, I planned to sleep in. My body didn't cooperate. I tossed and turned. Finally at 6 I gave up. I put on my waterproof socks for the trek out to the bear box, as there was 1/2" or so of snow on the ground. I dove back into my sleeping bag and made breakfast from there. I warmed the stove and fuel against me before lighting the stove, and it seemed a little happier. My guts have been a little weird the last couple of days. I'm not sure why. Maybe the ramen? I usually think of it as innocuous. Whatever the reason, I was grateful to be alone in the shelter as my butt trumpet rang out. ("Charge!")Since I was going to a motel, I had more clothing options. I would never normally wear my wool shirt during the day, as I needed it to be dry at night. But today it made a good layer under my raincoat. Warm when wet and less bulky and hot than my fleece top, it made a better layer for hiking in snow. I armored myself in every piece of rain gear I had. I put spares of gloves, socks, and bandana in the top of the pack. As I got ready, it started snowing again. The updated forecast called for 2-4" of additional snow, not the original dusting. Just dandy. Time to walk. When I got back to the summit I remembered to leave a note this time. I tried to take a picture of the last white blaze, but I couldn't find it. It must be a fair distance from the summit. I shrugged and headed down the approach trail. I realized that I was happy. The snow was beautiful, I was hiking new trail, and being solo in winter conditions made me feel alive. I realized, thanks to the contrast, that I had felt melancholy yesterday. It had felt like an end of something. But today I felt happy about all the trails I haven't hiked yet, just waiting for me to find them. It was a good feeling. I stopped in at Black Gap Shelter to use the privy and take advantage of a roof. I wanted to listen to music and open a snack where I could do so without getting snow on things. Thus armored with tunes and calories, I continued. The snow came down thickly, making the walking more difficult. I set a goal for my day of no more than one fall per mile, and no broken bones. My stretch goal was no frostbite. I managed not to fall down, somehow. I'm stunned, myself. At one point I did deliberately sit and slide down a slope I couldn't safely traverse, but I never fell. I went flying dozens of times, but always managed to catch myself. The only tracks I saw were mine and some bunnies'. I took the approach trail rather than the Len Foote trail because I figured it would be better traveled, but I guessed wrong. I was the only one plowing through the snow today. I couldn't measure it, but it came partway up my shin on Frosty Mountain. I found it slightly easier to shuffle through it, kicking my feet under it to the ground, than to step down through it and compress the snow. At first I scanned the ground carefully, looking for rocks. Once it got deep, that was useless. It was a relief to give up staring at the snow, but I didn't enjoy the surprise flight through the air every time my foot found a rock. In steep parts I slid, nearly skiing. It was a fast way down the mountain, I'll say that for it. I decided I was super, super happy to be headed out of the mountains. People who thruhike in winter baffle me. Once I was 2 miles from the lodge, I started mentally counting down tenths of a mile. At about 1 mile, I came upon footprints. Shortly I found a hiker who was clearly not interested in company. And not much longer after that I was thrilled to start seeing signs for the lodge. Civilization! Hot water! Cheeseburgers! All I ate during my walk today was some trail mix so I was starving. At the lodge I dripped in front of the counter as I checked in. The clerk recognized me as a thruhiker and congratulated me. It was nice to have an in person acknowledgement. I had only seen that one hiker since I summited, and we didn't chat. I had told JD and Goddess and Facebook yesterday, but I find that a person in front of me feels different. I dropped off my gear in my room, dressed as dry and non-smelly as I could, and headed to the restaurant. I was the only one there. I ate my cheeseburger in front of the giant glass wall looking out on the snow. The snow stopped, revealing a pretty frosted countryside, then started up again. Georgia doesn't get much snow. This must seem apocalyptic to them. Back in my room, I arranged things to dry. I had de-snowed things immediately upon arrival of course. But now I turned up the heat and spread out wet garments. And my shoes. I hate having to put them back on soaking wet, but I have no spares. At least they dry faster than boots. I took a long, hot shower. I mean frog boiling hot. And I turned up the room heat until it was uncomfortably warm. I've been dreaming of being warm. The high temps have been around 40, and much lower with wind chill. The only time I haven't been cold was in my sleeping bag. JD is probably not going to be thrilled with how hot I have it, but I'm luxuriating.