Date: 2013-04-28
From: Silers Bald Shelter 

To: Clingman's Dome
Miles today: 4.8
Weather: light rain

What can I say, it was a horrible night. I was so cold I shivered most of the night, and that worried me because I know shivering is the first stage of hypothermia. I decided that I was hiking out in the morning, no matter what the weather was like. It was less than 5 miles to Clingman's Dome,and I actually felt safer walking out in the weather than waiting it out in the shelter. So in the morning I told Little Janie and we both decided to go for it. I gave Highlander back his long johns, with much thanks, and put my own back on, which had mostly dried. (I had lain on them all night to dry them with my body heat) . My hiking pants, however, were another story, being still wet enough to wring water out of, and very cold. I put them on anyway, having no other choice. I had two pairs of dry socks-not clean but dry- that I had slept in, and decided to wear them both. My boots were still wet and cold. On top I decided to wear my down jacket under my rain jacket. You aren't supposed to let down get wet, and this was definitely going to get wet under my rain jacket that turned out to be quite porous-not a good quality in a rain jacket. But I had to have something dry to start off in, and this was it. Besides, it was less than 5 miles to walk.So I shouldered my pack which probably weighed 40 lbs. with all the water it was holding (it would seem my pack cover is rather porous too), and off we went, into the storm. And what can I say about that, except it was very hard walking? It was uphill all the way, after all we were climbing Clingman's Dome, the highest spot on the whole AT, higher even than Mt. Katahdin. We passed through evergreen forests that must have been beautiful, but how would I know, I was working too hard to give them a glance. The trail in the Smokies is much more heavily used than elsewhere, with the result that it is packed down, worn down. Often it's a rut, with the ground rising up 4 to 6 inches on either side, and sometimes it's a trench, with the ground three feet higher on each side. Do you know what happens when you add two days of rain to packed down ruts and trenches? That's right, you get little rivers, flowing swiftly downhill. At first I tried to avoid walking in them. In a futile attempt to keep my feet dry I straddled them, walked on the closest high ground, or hopped from rock to rock. Eventually though, that became too difficult, rrequiring more energy expended in planning each step, then I had to give, and I settled for splashing right down the middle of each little stream. My boot, which had been doing a masterful job of keeping my feet dry up until this point, gave up in disgust and filled up with water.And then I fell, my first fall on the AT, which might be some kind of record, and is due to my overcautious stepping, which is partly why I'm so slow. But I tried to take a big step up on a slick muddy place, and down I went, twisting my left knee. I actually thought for a minute my hike might be over, it hurt so bad. But after I stopped seeing stars and tested it out it seemed ok, so I got up and kept walking. Soon we were above treeline on a ridge, so the modest protection we were getting from the elements was gone, and we were at the mercy of the wind, rain, and drop in temperature. Finally, finally, we could see the observation tower,and emerged onto a road. We hustled down to the parking lot to find a ride to Gatlinburg. Two nice section hikers from Maryland offered us a lift. I apologized that we were so wet and muddy, but they were wonderful, and drove us right to the Grand Prix motel, a funky little hiker motel. Since I had literally no dry clothes, Little Janie was nice enough to go do laundry while I took a fabulous hot shower and wrapped up in blanket until she came back with clean, dry, clothes! Who would have thought it could be so exciting? Then we ordered pizza delivery and took all the wet stuffout of our packs to dry.It feels so good to be warm and dry and watching the rain through a window, I can't tell you. And yet, I'm quite proud of having gotten through the last couple of days. Tomorrow is a zero, baby!