Date: 2013-04-17
From: Max Patch Bald, stealth camp

To: Hostel @ the Laughing Heart Lodge, Hot Springs, NC
Miles today: 19.8

The wind stayed mostly calm much of the night. The beer quickly worked its way through my system, so I got up several times. The second time I noticed a few clouds against the starry night sky. There was some lightning in the clouds far in the distance, but nothing that concerned me too much. When I woke up again at 5 a.m. I noticed flashes of light through the tent walls on all sides. Hmmm.... There was no thunder, but there was definitely lightning. I unzipped the door and stuck my head out. The sky was completely covered with low clouds. The lights from the valley below reflected off of them. The stars were gone. My eyes cut around the sky. There was lightning in every direction. Far on the horizon I saw a bolt hit the ground, and a few seconds later I heard the expected rumble on the thunder roll across the hills. I thought back to the conversation Red Specks and I had had the day before about "gut-instinct." My gut-instinct was telling me to get the hell off the top of the exposed hill in a lightning storm, especially since the tallest thing around was my tent being held up by two metal hiking poles. I woke up Buck-eye and Kaboose with my packing up, and they decided to bounce off the hill, too. As I headed down the bald, I also learned why there were so many trail markers. They were put there for putzes like myself who use up their headlamp batteries reading at night and shining in the eyes of snorers. My light was so dim I could hardly make out my feet and the trail. I stumbled my way down into the trees as the rain started falling. About half an hour later I came to an intersection. I had to stand about six inches from the wooden direction board to be able to read which way to turn. Kaboose and Buck-Eye came up behind me and passed on. I sat down under a rhododendron. It offered a little protect from the rain drops. The ground was soft and had a nice incline. I thought about laying down to take a nap. I was still tired. Instead I pulled a Snickers bar from my hip belt. It would have to make do as breakfast for now. So I sat, eating my Snickers under the dark, wet protection of the rhodos. After a few minutes, I got back up and continued on. The rain fell in cycles. Sometimes it was too heavy not to have raingear on, and other times the raingear just made me hotter. My sweat and body heat steamed up the inside, and I could feel the fabric sticking to the skin on my arms and legs. I hate that feeling. At about 6:30, it started getting light out. I could make out other peoples' tents and hammocks off to the side of the trail. Some people were up and moving, others were still quietly tucked away. Occasionaly I'd see a dry rectangle on the ground, the only sign that someone had pass the night there. After 5 miles (about 3 hrs) of hiking, I decided to stop and have breakfast. I found a semi-establish campsite about 30 yards off the trail. You could see a fire ring and some makeshift benches. It was tucked neating between two streams. I looked inviting. I unpacked my food and made some instant coffee and my hot chocolate/granola mix. Today is Tom's 39th birthday. I pretended that he was there with me. I thought back to his 30th birthday breakfast. We were on our honeymoon in Italy. There were fresh apricot croissants and cappuccinos. We were newlyweds. I wondered where we would be next year for his 40th birthday. Hopefully we'd be together. When I finished up, I saw that I needed some water, and I needed to clean up my dishes (I've come to realize one of my biggest annoyances/pet-peeves out here in the woods is the inability to really clean my bowls and pans after I cook. I'm not bothered about having to eat or drink out a dirty dish, but instead it's the idea that it is dirty and I can't clean it). I grabbed my two water bottles and my dirty dishes and headed the most direct route to the water. There was a 6 ft steep slope to get down. My hands were full, and as I started down, my foot slipped. I hit my bum and slid to the bottom of the hill, the backside of my rain pants were covered in mud, but oh well. I filled the bottles and cleaned my cookware well. I turned to head back up the hill, and I got about half way before a small stiff branch hit the handle of my spoon and flipped it back downhill into the mud. I climbed back down, and pillaged through the leaves and dirt to reclaim my spoon. I washed it back off, and tried up the hill again. This time I got almost all the way to the top. My foot slipped again, and I went face first into the hill. Arms spread wide, I slid to the bottom of the hill on my belly. The whole front side of me was now covered in mud and leaves, the spoon had flipped out again, and all kinds of dirt, twigs and whatnot were kicked up into my cookware. Sigh. I went back to the creek and clean it again. I tried to wipe some of the dirt off, but just gave up. On the third try I made it to the top of the hill. My hands were dirty, and I searched for any part of my shirt that was clean enough to wipe them off on. Out of the corner of my eye I caught site of a blue blaze (White blazes denote the AT. Blue blazes denote easy access to water sources). I looked 10 ft to my left, and there was a gentle smooth trail down to the water. Sigh.I played the raingear game all day. Raingear on, raingear off. I stopped at Walnut Mtn. Shelter to pull off the raingear and utilitize the privy facility. It was crystal clear when I went in, and when I came out 15 secs later, the whole hillside was socked in with fog. Clouds of fog billowed over ridge. I had gone from unlimited visibility to 20 ft visibility in the time it takes to take off a pair of rain pants. It was so eerie. There was a note in the shelter log warning hikers of a Nirovirus outbreak and that the disease had been traced to that shelter. Ewww. I grabbed my stuff and got out of there. As I came down the mountian, the vegetation got greener and greener. The variety of wildflowers exploded. I've been trying to take pictures of them as I go along, but now it's overwhelming. The trail cut a long sweeping brown "S" through the emerald green forest floor. I arrived at my planned destination around 2:30 p.m. I had planned to camp there, and then hike the last 3 miles into Hot Springs the next morning. But it was early, and the funkiness of my clothes had taken on a life of its own. I sat down on a log and pulled out my lunch. Nimble, Buck-eye, Kaboose and Atlas were there. And we all fantisized about the food we would eat if we were in town and the sensation of being clean after the increasily level of funk. I thought about have a bit of "privacy" after all the "togetherness." It sounded so, so good. I decided to call one of the hostels in town to see if they had any private rooms still availible. I have a room reserved for the following two nights, but I knew that that hotel was already full. Chuck Norris answered the phone and said that, yes, he had one private room still availible. Since it was a double room, I'd have to pay extra, but at that point I didn't care. The last three miles to town seemed to take longer than all the previous 16 miles before. My feet and ankles started hurting. My knees whimpered. I didn't care. I rounded a corner and saw the French Broad River come into view, and a few minutes later I saw the town. I limped faster. The Hostel @ Laughing Heart Lodge is the FIRST building you come to as you come off the trail. Trigger was there to greet me and direct me to my room. She loaned me a t-shirt to put on after my shower. I made my bed, and unpacked my bag, and enjoyed a hot, hot shower. It was nothing short of glorious. Afterwards, I put on the borrowed t-shirt, but I had nothing for the bottom half except my dirty (like really dirty) underwear and shorts. I felt the clammy, wet, cold-sweat saturated waistband and crotch. Ewwww...Uggghhh... It just felt so wrong. Walking wide-legged, I headed down to the Buff Mountain Outfitters to see if I could find a "town dress". Offically they closed at 5 pm, and it was 5:08. I tried the door, and it was still open. I got two steps in and was greated by the nicest lady you ever hope to meet, Margaret Ann. I told her my situation, and she was so sweet. She asked my dress size and then pulled all the dresses that might work. After three tries, I found it. I stuffed my dirt clothes into my stuff-sack purse, cut the tags, paid and walked out onto the sidewalk feeling like a million bucks! I headed to the Smoky Mountain Diner and joined Buck-Eye, Kaboose, Big Foot Jim and Duct Tape at their table. I proceeded to inhale a Black & Blue Burger with extra blue cheese & bacon, a large plate of crispy, salty french fries and a big piece of strawberry rhubarb pie a la mode. When I got back to my room, Tom called. The perfect ending to a pretty great day.