Date: 2007-06-11
From: Kinkora Hostel

To: Double Springs Shelter
Miles today: 23.0
Weather: clear sky

Today turns out to be McCray's birthday (31-years, if I remember right). He said it's his tradition to hike in the nude---his happy, hippy hiking suit, I tell him, quoting the movie "Southbounders". After Bob takes us back to the lake, we press on for wherever our destinations may be.Before long, I pass ahead of Dandelion, Mr. Burns, and McCray. Around 15-minutes later, I pass by Firefly and Breezy. Eventually, I come to the earthen dam for the lake, and follow the road up-slope, until the Trail crosses into the forest and begins climbing. After a little while, the Trail dips down again, crossing a road before passing by a sign for Big Laurel Branch Wilderness Area. After this sign, the Trail turns into an uphill climb, reminiscent of Roan Mountain, although nowhere near as long in duration! The lake is always on my right, slowly gets further away.After what seems a rather long time, I catch up with Grace and Buffet. Buffet, ever since I met them, has been cracking jokes about how fast I tend to hike, saying things like, "I'm going to throw a rope around you, and let you pull us!" When I come up with them, Grace is behind a little bit, and, upon seeing me, shouts ahead to her dad, "Look who finally caught up with us, dad: Mouthpiece!" It tickles me to be referred to by my Trail Name, reminding me how official of a trip this is, how real it is. For a little while, we semi hike together, until the next climb. My time spent ahead of them doesn't last long, as shortly after this climb, I arrive at Vandeventer Shelter. A massive crop of granite boulders are behind the shelter, providing a beautiful vista down to the lake, which is getting smaller and farther away. This will likely be the last view of it. This section of the Trail is dry, primarily, again due to the lack of rain. What a Catch-22 that situation is!Grace and Buffet press on, and I decide to rest for a few minutes more before doing so myself. A young guys shows up, I'm pretty sure his name was Alex (I can't believe I'm struggling this hard with names!). He's from Pennsylvania, living near the Trail between Duncannon and Boiling Springs. He's doing a flip-flop, and is thinking of hiking home, then heading up to Maine, hiking back home, heading south. What a great way to hike! We recognize each other from the waterfall yesterday. He is one of those whom I thought was just a day hiker. He is carrying a school type backpack, and has minimal gear. He wears running shoes, has no stove, opting for food items that don't require cooking, uses a poncho he bought for around $1 at Wal-Mart. He carries maybe 20-pounds when he leaves town after resupplying!I continue to notice how dry this section of the Trail is, and am thankful to have filled up my bladder back at Kinkora, this morning! I come upon a youth group, with over a dozen kids (maybe 12 or 13 years old), and a handful a camp leaders, none of who can be much older than me. They ask me where the nearest water source is. I tell them that all of those listed in my field guide south of here are dry, except for one which I avoided, as Bob Peoples warned of the steepness of the Trail, and the stinging nettles, all the way down then back up. I ask them if they've been reading the registers in the shelters, to which they say, "No, we've found that that slows us down too much." Exasperated, I say, "Slows you down too much? You're in charge of the lives of all these youths here, and you say it slows you down too much? Those registers have more than just Trail Gossip, but also important information regarding wildlife in certain areas and water sources! For the sake of health, one can't afford to NOT take the time to read through the more recent entries in the shelters!" They opt to continue going south, looking for a logging road which should lead them out to a main highway, where at least a few of them can hopefully hitchhike into town to purchase some water. I hike north, shaking my head at such a blatant lack of common sense. The sage words of Chesterton are true, "Common sense isn't very common anymore." Exacerbating my frustration with the youth leaders, within a mile or two north, I come upon a blue-blazed spur trail to a viable water source! How did they miss this! I wish I had gotten their churches name, so I could contact their pastor, alerting them to the amount of bad, irresponsible planning! Those kids lives were in the hands of those leaders, and look at the blatant stupidity regarding their direction!After filling up my Camelbak and Nalegene, Alex catches up with me. I point him in the direction of the water, and he quickly heads in that direction. I go north .2-miles to Iron Mountain Shelter, where I found two gentlemen. One is middle-aged, the other is a senior citizen. Both are having the time of their respective lives! I decide to cook my dinner here before pressing on to Double Spring Shelter, and the younger of the two gentlemen volunteers his stove and fuel for me! He even heads down to the water source and gets some cooking water for me, telling me to save my own! What a kindred spirit! Grace and Buffet catch up with me here, and they let me know of their plans to stay here. While I'm cooking, Alex presses on, hoping to make it a little further than my destination. Also, while I'm cooking, two more young hikers show up, Bandana Ben and another whose name I could never remember, apart from that it had the word "Rex" at the end of it. They started at Springer Mountain just 3-weeks ago! How in the hell can anyone hike this fast, and enjoy it, I ask myself! "Hike your own hike," I remind myself.I eat my food, load up my stuff, and head off. Not too far North, I come upon a fireplace shaped grave stone, for "Uncle Nick Grindstaff", with an epitaph reading, "Lived alone, suffered alone, and died alone." What depressing story-of-a-life could ever inspire an epitaph like this? I later learn that Nick Grindstaff headed out west, hoping to get rich while hunting for gold. He encountered many dishonest people, and ended up being swindled a fair amount. Depressed, dejected, and losing any shred of hope in humanity, he returned home, living as a loner/hermit in the mountains. An American flag and some fairly fresh flowers are there, signaling that someone is faithfully visiting this spot. His family? Like a good Catholic, I say a prayer for the repose of his soul, that he may rest in peace, and press on, hiking north.Within a mile or two of my departure from Iron Mountain Shelter, my shin starts hurting again, this time much worse than the day I showed up at Kinkora Hostel. I shout out, "Lord, why the hell is my leg giving me trouble like this now? What is different about this terrain, being the easiest so far, about my pace, that is causing my leg to hurt?! Why didn't I experience this pain in my shin when I experience the pain in my knee?" A few moments later, I come upon a newlywed couple, who are out hiking a little bit. They started at highway TN91, and are hiking South to Dennis Cove Road. Apparently, Bob Peoples dropped them off, and told them about some jugs of water he left near the highway there. Again, what kindred spirits! I tell them of my ailing shin, and they express condolences, hoping, as do I, that it feels better soon, allowing me to hike with relative ease.Shortly after parting ways, I come to the jugs of water. I lower my pack to the ground, and fill my Nalgene, drinking a liter of water then and there. I stretch and go to the bathroom, hearing a motorcyclist stop just ahead of here near the road. I come up to the road, and sure enough, there's the cyclist. We chat for a few moments, and I press on, crossing the highway. Across the roadway, I pass through some stiles, and find myself in a wonderland of colors. The sun is setting over the ridgeline, making the tall grass in this, apparently, abandoned farm golden color, waving in the wind. My camera is constantly clicking away, trying to capture the essence of this view. Each picture looks nice, but also is lacking. So, I turn on the video capability of my camera, and take a slow shot in a full circle, completing with me waving at the camera!Back near the forest, I spot a number of butterflies on the ground, posing for my camera, begging me to photograph them (I eagerly do so). Inside the forest, a rabbit darts across the ground, taking refuge in the camouflage of the leaves and brush. I try taking a picture of him, but it's simply too dark for my camera to aptly do so. I press on, grimacing with almost every footstep, as my legs pain is getting no better, but feels to be getting worse.The forest is getting dark, and I'm about ready to get out my headlamp, to illumine the rest of my walk to the shelter, located just 3-miles north of TN91, when I hear voices ahead. That must be the shelter, I reason, so I opt to continue walking in the ever darkening forest. I arrive at the shelter, and find close to a dozen high school students, and a few of their teachers. I'm dead set on staying here tonight, and I fear I won't be sleeping much tonight, with a group of high schoolers. I ask the teachers if it's okay if I take a spot in the shelter, making sure the students hadn't taken it all up yet. Three of them opted to stay in the shelter, so, the teachers assured me, there would be room for me.I had been following the journal entries of another northbound hiker, Deep Swyg. As it turns out, he is here, too, one of the teachers tells me, and Alex came and went. I walk just north of the shelter before cooking another meal, hoping to catch Deep Swyg before he goes to bed, as I certainly wouldn't want to disturb a tired hiker! I think I spot his tent, but it's silent, so I turn around and head back to the shelter.I am deadset on doing the remaining 18.3-miles tomorrow into Damascus, realizing that I will likely have to take more time off for my leg. The high school group learns that I am thru-hiking, and one of the girls and guys ask me questions for a good 20-minutes or so, curious as to my endeavor. One sees my camp shoes, purchased at Neels Gap, and exclaims, "Your shoes rock!" I pull out my stove to cook another meal, since I'll be in town tomorrow. When I pull out my JetBoil stove, another student exclaims, "Is that your stove? It's really cool!" I'm really touched by the attention of these students, in addition to my being thrilled to find them hiking in the mountains, and enjoying it! Also, while I lie in my sleeping bag, pretending to be asleep, I eavesdrop on the conversation with the students and one of their teachers regarding literature! These students aren't only in love with nature and hiking, they also love to read good literature! Oh, how my hope in the future brightens all the more! (I tend to be pessimistic)I tell the group that I'd heard of unusual bear activity in this area. They had already heard, and have set up a perpetual watch, to make sure no bears forage through their food. I think this is a bit extreme, but don't have the heart to tell them. Again, I'm too touched, seeing their dedication to be responsible hikers. I also take advantage of their watch to not hang my food, leaving it on the picnic table with their food, since the kids will be there!