Date: 2005-04-22
From: Erwin, TN

To: Erwin, TN
Miles today: 0.0
Weather: overcast clouds

4.22.05Day 403:15pm Okay. I'm officially incredibly behind in my journaling. Yesterday I completely neglected my writing, which I sorely wanted to do but simply could not muster the energy. Exhaustion characterized the evening. 'Course, getting up at 3am and hiking 7 miles before 8am may have been a contributing factor. But, before I get ahead of myself, I should finish the tale of the white elephant that I began several days ago, especially as it pertains rather directly to the 3am start...So, back at Jerry Cabin Shelter, Feelin' Free was declaring her innocence, as Cuppa Joe brandished the bottle of Estee Lauder, when I last left off. After some head-shaking and tsk-tsking, CJ accepted the humor of the situation. More than accepted, actually. We all found it rather funny. And, we decided that it was an excellent practical joke. And, that it would be making the rounds throughout the packs of the Go Lite, Go Easy crew. Cuppa Joe even removed the bottle from its ziploc bag (preventitive measure to avoid total disaster, and a ruined pack) and dusted the sign at Jerry's Cabin w/ the fragrance of 'Beautiful' (which, in CJs opinion, smells like...well, it smells foul.) It's also extremely durable and waterproof, as CJ discovered, much to his dismay. But, it was all in good fun. He threatened retribution. No, he guaranteed it. I'm sure he was plotting and scheming as we walked that morning. But, sometime around lunch (or perhaps it was Second Breakfast? Elevenses? We're becoming more hobbit-like every day. Or at least, our appetites are.), the plotting became communal. The 4 of us -- me, CJ, FF, Andy -- had acquired the moniker Go Lite, Go Easier from Gypsy Lulu, on the day of the double trail magic, when, in true compliance w/ the GLGE tenets, we allowed ourselves to be sucked in, and thus didn't hike as far as the rest of the gang. (Including, but not limited to -- Break, Linux, Pacman, Gypsy Lulu, Touk, Ranger.) So, they were all about 6 miles ahead of us. We'd come across them, sprawled out, boots off, eyes closed, stoves cooking. Our breaks would overlap for an hour or two (another GLGE tenet -- when you take a break, you take a Break, w/ a capital B. Anything under one hour in duration does not qualify. And each day requires at least 3 Breaks, more added at your discretion.), and then they would push on, generally around 4 or 5 pm.But, as we were enjoying a brief hiatus from walking (merely a 30-minute breather after a lengthy climb), we hatched the nefarious plot of a camp infiltration under cover of darkness, depositing the bottle of perfume w/ the GLGE gang. We knew they would be camped at Low Gap -- that had been our original plan as well, before the trail magic vortex sucked us in. (Mmm, just thinking about that ice cream pie...) Low Gap was only a mere 6 miles from our intended stopping place for the night, Hogback Ridge Shelter. And really, what's 6 miles b/t deviant deeds? So, our scheme was born. When we rolled into the shelter, we encountered Break, Linux, and Pacman, much as we had expected, lazily preparing to depart for their typical late afternoon/early evening constitutional. In order to lay a false trail and eliminate suspicion (or any thought of us pushing on, not that such an idea would typically intrude on the mental processes of a true GLGE-r), we broke out our stoves and cooked up some dinner. (The first course, anyway. Dessert would come later.) They headed off, and we gave them a solid hour lead, before departing ourselves. We wanted to get a little closer to Low Gap, to make our night hike as short as possible. The fact that we would cross Sam's Gap, which bore the possibility of a real meal, at a real restaurant, was merely an added bonus. Well, we were luckless on the hitch at Sam's. But, we enjoyed a double communal dessert of Deep Dish Peach Cobbler and Apple Crisp (The listed directions of warming in a greased pan for 10 minutes? Forget 'em. Just add hot water. Turned out fine.) at our campsite. And then, we promptly unfurled our sleeping bags, and cowboy camped under the stars. And what a beautiful night it was. The moon was nearing its full state, so it was a brightly-lit night, stars sprinkling the sky. Cuppa Joe set FFs watch alarm for 3am, and shouldered the responsibility for waking the owner of said watch (who is notoriously not a morning person, or a mid-night person either). I spent much of the night enjoying the surprisingly balmy temperatures, watching the progression of the stars across the sky. The Big Dipper wended its way from being largely obscured by the tree branches to floating directly overhead. I waited somewhat impatiently for the tell-tale chatter of the alarm. It bring-ed! precisely at 3. We rose from our supine positions, stuffed our sleeping bags back in their sacks, rolled up our pads, tossed it all in our packs, and we were good to go, headlamps at the ready. I grabbed a few spoonfuls of peanut butter for a quick jolt of energy (thru-hikers' fuel). My legs were definitely seeking some strength and fortification -- after the 17 or so miles from the day before, they were feeling like two lead weights dangling from strings of Jello. I just felt very wobbly and weak, especially on the ups. But, despite my weariness, the night hike was awesome. The moon largely lit our path, though I kept my headlamp on to prevent an inopportune stubbed toe or twisted ankle. And so we bopped along, over hill and under dale. Truly, I felt like Bilbo Baggins, being led on a merry chase through the forest, trailing after the bobbing lights deceptively leading to the spider's den. I just hoped we wouldn't stumble across a nest of 8-legged critters. In spite of my snail's pace up the hills, we reached Low Gap at 4:30. The headlamps were dimmed, and Cuppa Joe went in on the stealth mission, entering enemy territory. Several minutes passed, in breathless suspense. A moment's panic, when Andy thought he spotted someone stirring, but then CJ crept up the path. We slunk along the trail several hundred yards, w/ only the moon lighting our footsteps, hiking poles held aloft to muffle the sound. Safely out of earshot, we enjoyed a minor celebration, and then continued our trek up to Big Bald. For, Part Two of our Go Lite, Go Sneaky night-hike was to catch the sunrise atop that expansive mountaintop. And indeed we did. We reached the summit as the colors were pooling across the horizon. We also encountered two tents -- Hooky and Tiny Dancer had similar ideas to our, except they bypassed the 3am wake-up call. The wind was rather fierce up there, but the vista more than compensated. We all donned several layers of rain/wind gear, and huddled down to enjoy the show. And what a show it was. First, it was just a streak of red, painted across the horizon. A few mountain ridges rose out of the primordial mist. Then, the sky slowly, imperceptibly grew lighter, the red gradually bleeding into yellow. Finally, moments before 7, the red-orange glow of the sun peeked (and peaked) above the horizon. Initially the thinnest of slivers, it quickly grew in circumference and assumed its vertical dominance in the sky. It was such a powerful, invigorating experience, making us all slightly giddy. (FF actually skipped, literally, down the trail; I would have followed suit, had I the energy. But my soul was skipping.) Once the sun was solidly aloft, we resumed our packs and our walk, more out of necessity to warm up due to the wind than any over-reaching desire or compulsion to hike. If it hadn't been so bloody cold, I'd have stayed on Big Bald for hours.(To break from my reminiscing (and catching up) and report instead on the present -- a rather nasy and vicious weather system is moving in as I write. (It's no longer 3pm, when I began this entry; it's nearing 11. I've been grabbing precious and random minutes to write a sentence or two throughout the day, b/t conversations, and meals, and coffees in the lobby, and really bad movies.) The appearance of the rain was almost immediate, sans transitory time. There was a light drizzle, w/ periodic lightning flashes illuminating the horizon. And then the wind frenzedly whipped through, and began driving the rain. The lightning increased its frequency, and the thunder began sounding ever closer. Reports of sleet and hail to come. And tomorrow night there's talk of snow. Definitely glad to be under a roof w/ 4 walls tonight. And perhaps tomorrow...? Anyway, it's nasty our there. Okay, end of aside. Back to my tale of yesterday.)We left Big Bald, traipsing across the open grassy fields, wending our way to the nearby shelter. We strolled in around 7:30, clearly surprising the overnight residents, who were stirring from their berths. The Bruces were finishing up breakfast. Poet thought us insane, and voiced her opinion to us, asking whether we had just contradicted the GLGE philosophy. A valid question, but certain exceptions exist for deviant and dastardly deeds, such as dead-of-night stealth ops. Also at Bald Mountain Shelter were Dorothy and T-2, Snowman and Icicle, Eagle Eye, Nate, Piker and Ms Mileage, Hard Core. They all looked as if they questioned our sanity. but, if we were insane for doing as we did, we were happy in our insanity. We collapsed around the picnic table. Well, I collapsed, at least, doing nothing. Absolutely nothing. Just sitting. Glorious, motionless inactivity. After a few minutes, I mustered enough energy too pull my food bag from my pack. I analyzed the remaining contents, bypassing the oatmeal and granola in favor of the meat and potatoes (sans meat, of course.) Yes, a yummy delicious hefty filling pot-ful of starch. For breakfast. You could say that my trail appetite has kicked in. W/ a vengeance. After polishing off my pot of potatoes (Andy had a similar meal; FF chose ramen, granola, and a handful of candy bars; CJ opted for Beef Stroganoff), the other 3 prepared to settle down, perhaps even snag a few Zs to make up for the abbreviated night. But sleep was out of the question for me. I was awake, and the town vortex was sucking me in. The 17 miles didn't seem all that far to go. Right? So, around 9am, I left, stumbling into town 9 hours later. (Following a second dinner of Broccoli and Rice at No Business Knob Shelter.) I briefly debated holing up at that last shelter, and rolling into Erwin this morning. But, recollections of the old seaman's ditty -- "Red skies at night, sailor's delight; red skies in the morning, sailor's take warning" -- (and the sky most definitely had a reddish hue at sunrise) coupled w/ the knowledge of twenty-some odd hikers headed toward that shelter for the evening added incentive for me to push my weary bones on that final 6+ miles. The motive of a hot shower and clean clothes didn't hurt either. And so, I performed my first 20-mile day of the hike. 23-odd miles (or, as I said to Free the other day, 23-point-blah miles). Last year, it seemed like such a huge deal, to reach that milestone, to be able to cover that kind of mileage. This year, it was sort of ho-hum. I mean, I'm glad I did it (for the shower, and the clothes, and the rain that I missed), and I'm glad that I suffered no ill physical effects, but I feel absolutely no need whatsoever to repeat the task anytime soon. (Though, I must confess, it's kinda cool to think that I walked over 1% of the AT in a single day. Pretty darn cool.) A one-day deviation from GLGE. A memory lapse. The vortex effect. Call it what you will. I'll be happy to resume my 12-mile days once more. Just as soon as the weather becomes more palatable... Well, time to sign off. Not b/c I've finished relating the stories of the past few days, but b/c this entry had reached epic proportions. And it's after 11pm. Guess who's zeroing (again) tomorrow?