Date: 2011-04-06
From: Standing Indian Shelter

To: Big Spring Shelter
Miles today: 14.4
Weather: clear sky

A cold night, at around 4000 feet elevation, and again I'm glad for my warm sleeping bag.I start hiking early but slowly, and soon everyone else from the shelter has passed me. Unlike the beginning of the trail, where I would see a half dozen or so people an hour, here I only see a handful of day hikers and trail maintainers all morning. A day hiker gives me a handful of mini Snickers and I feel like I just won the lottery.I think about the reference frame of a single hiker. From the perspective of a northbound hiker's average speed, other northbounders travel both forward and back, passing and being passed, and southbounders (rare so early in the season) fly backward. From this perspective shelters -- and their registries -- float backward at a steady rate and can be used to pass messages downstream, as can slower hikers or southbounders. Passing messages upstream -- or receiving messages from those downstream -- requires the use of faster hikers (or alternative modes of communication like cell phones, which still get limited service). The faster you hike, the harder it is to know what goes on behind you after you leave, as in Einstein's thought experiment involving looking out the rear view mirror of a spaceship traveling near the speed of light.I think about Trilobite and Oops, and Kinnickinic and Slowpoke and all of the other hikers I've met, and wonder how they're doing. How many pounds did Slowpoke drop at Neel's Gap? Has anyone dropped out yet? It's hard to know.From the reference frame of a hiker's average speed, to stop is to drift backwards, which I think accurately captures what it feels like.It's worth noting that this perspective has nothing to do with wanting to travel faster or finish soon. Instead it seems to be ingrained by habit, the way your arms get used to lifting upwards in the household experiment involving pressing your arms against a door frame.The weather is warm and sunny with just enough wind to avoid being too hot. I stop to admire the first real view in North Carolina and the day hikers catch up to me again. One of them asks me about my pack and I talk about cuben fiber and my gear. I've had this conversation 40-50 times so far, in varying lengths. Questions about my pack are by far the most common questions I get (unless I have my camera out), and come from day hikers and thru-hiker alike. I don't mind the questions, and try to represent ultralighters well by not being preachy or boastful. I carry a light pack because I enjoy walking outdoors more when I have less on my back and because I want to be able to carry 4 pounds of camera gear, not because I want to go fast, I explain, and point them to Zpacks.com when they ask where I bought it.* * *Just before the short, steep climb up to the Albert Mountain summit I meet Gordon, who has a couple folding chairs and is handing out sodas and chatting with hikers when they come by. Gordon is a legend. He thru-hiked in 1982 and did a bunch of trail magic for years before having a spinal injury and landing in a nursing home. Finding the nursing home depressing, he walked out, bought a van and has been living out of it supporting hikers ever since.Troll, the hiker he is currently following, shows up shortly. Troll is somewhat of a minor internet celebrity himself, although when I ask he claims to be to busy hiking to pay attention to such things. Troll has thru-hiked the AT (with his wife and 10 year old son), the PCT and the 1000 miles of the CDT, wears a kilt and has AT and PCT map tattoos on either calf. When I mention my knee, which is wrapped with an elastic bandage, Troll gives me his old knee brace from Gordon's van and tells me about his former knee problems and his luck with glucosamine.* * *I'm on top of the Albert Mountain tower watching the sun set and it's cold and windy and beautiful. This is a night of such incomparable splendor as to compensate for a week of future rain (or at least so I shall try to remember).