Date: 2014-03-31
From: Standing Bear Hostel

To: Roaring Forks Shelter
Miles today: 15.0
Weather: broken clouds

Trail Angels and Fellow HikersIt's hard for me to fit everything in that I want to say or explain all the things I wish you could know. Often times while I'm walking I will begin composing my next entry to you, dear reader, but by the time I hit the shelter I am so tired and cold that I forget everything I wanted to tell you and have no energy to try and recreate whatever it was I had worked so hard to construct. But I do know that many of those forgotten entries were about people. Most of my posts have been fairly egocentric. I do try to keep you informed about where I am and what I am experiencing, but my accounts have skirted the topic of my compatriots and also of the many people who have come to my aid. This former grouping of folks are called trail angels. Some of these people are established helpers who give food and/or rides to hikers on a regular basis. They are usually former through hikers who understand the culture and provide methodical service at specified sections of the trail. There is a fellow, Fresh Groundz, who runs a portable caf© called the Leap Frog Caf© which he sets up for a week at a time along the southern part of the trail. He's legendary. You hear about him for miles at a time. He feeds you until you tell him to stop. Sadly I kissed all of his locations. The last time by only an hour. I was so bummed.In Gatlinburg Trail Angels offer rides to and from Newfound Gap into town and also often provide food and beverages. One guy even had moonshine he's give you by the thimble-full. He'd refill as often as you wanted, but that was the allotted pour. But even more wonderful are the unexpected gifts. The bag of Taco Bell, apples, juice boxes, and Easter candy that was waiting for me at the underpass of I-40 and the six-pack of Coca-Cola chilling in a stream at the end of a hard day's walk. The couple who offered to buy me dinner and inspired I have dessert at Fontana Lodge. And the family that hitched me a lift into Gatlinburg when I missed that last official Trail Angel group of the day. I have been overwhelmed with kindness from these strangers. These people deserve the title "angel" and I am so thankful to them. The men and women that I hike with are, at this point, a bit if a motley crew. The men are all bearded and we all stink of moldering socks and B.O. One guy wondered aloud over dinner that he had no clue why he kept being able to hitch rides. "I wouldn't pick me up," he said as he scratched at his beard. But despite appearance and cleanliness I couldn't ask for a better second family. Because that is what happens. I know maybe five people's real names. A handful of their back stories and perhaps several handful of home towns and states. But once you reach a shelter for the night that is home and whoever is in it is family. Sometimes you see the same few people for a few days on end because your hiking the same speed. Sometimes they are only family for a night or the space of shuttle ride. Either way, hikers are always surrounded by support. We are held by a bond of fraternity: we all know we're lucky to be doing this. Even on the worst day (the one where all you've done is hike up hill and you're tired, sailed and cold) everyone will gladly admit that it's better than being back at work or in school. Hiking is freedom.