Date: 2013-04-11
From: Kinkora Hostel

To: Appalachian Folk School
Miles today: 28.9
Weather: clear sky

"You walked 29 miles for fun?" - Quick Stop cashierI am up early as I am on the middle of any morning activity. The section hiking folks are leaving this morning, and leave behind fresh fruit and other food for the remaining hikers. I snatch some cantaloupe before heading out early. Last night I was able to get in touch with Warren Doyle, who indicated he might be able to help me section hike in this area. He can pick me up at 1400 at Wilbur Dam Road, about 13 miles to the north. It will be tough to make those miles in six hours, with a big climb up Pond Mountain coming up early in the day. I want to get over that climb before it gets too warm today.The day starts out with a beautiful walk toward Laurel Falls. I wind through rocky fissures along the edge of the stream, crossing a bridge and climbing sharply uphill to walk high above the falls before descending toward them. Dozer and Funyuns catch up to me as I shoot photos above the falls, and I follow them down the side trail to the shoot more photos. These are my favorite falls so far in the Trail. I have to move on without much rest as my target destination gives me little time to play with.After Laurel Falls, the Trail follows the stream for a while, letting me walk quickly on flat ground most of the way. It does not stay gentle though, and where the stream bends back on itself the Trail departs it. It climbs sharply to make what looks like a shortcut instead of following the stream. I would have preferred to follow the stream instead of making this steep climb just to descend back to the stream around the bend. The Trail follows the stream a bit longer and crosses it on footbridges before a one-mile side trail to Hampton. Dozer and I move on but Funyuns takes the side trail. He has done the Trail from Springer to Damascus and does not need to or want to undertake the next climb up to Pond Flats.Pond Mountain feels like one tremendous pointless up and down. The Trail ascends and descends 1700 feet with no views or other reward for the effort. On the map all this section does is head away from the highway, climb up Pond Mountain, and descend back toward the highway. There is a brief road walk down to the highway and then across it, down to Watauga Lake. Dozer and Funyuns are here taking a break. The water is too cold for them to have gone for a swim, but I am strip down to underwear and dive in without hesitation. It is refreshing, but I feel myself drying and warming as soon as I am out of the water.I dry off and get redressed as Dozer and Funyuns are heading out. I fall in behind them and follow the Trail around the lake. The AT follows the shore clockwise around the lake, but does not spare us from some small hills as it departs the shore just to rejoin it. Watauga Lake Shelter is on one of these hills above the lake. I stop there briefly for lunch with the other two before pressing on ahead of them. There is little time for me to reach Wilbur Dam Road. I consider calling Warren and asking him to meet me late in the day, but have no cell service and figure he may already be on his way.The Trail climbs higher above the lake as it departs the shelter. It follows the shore from up above, at one point climbing and following a finger of mountain out into the lake before turning back and continuing toward the dam. From the finger I could see the dam that the Trail crosses, but it is hard to appreciate the size of the structure until I am up close. The surface of the lake is well below the road crossing the dam. On the far side of the dam, no outlet is visible. A dirt road switches back numerous times until it reaches the valley floor far below me. Two large intakes stand near the shores, one where the Trail turns to asphalt and the other on the far shore.After crossing the dam the Trail follows the paved road for a while. This is the steepest proper road walk yet. Sometimes I follow asphalt roads through town, or use them to cross rivers and highways. Sometimes the Trail follows old abandoned woods roads, or it follows dirt or gravel roads for a while before returning to the woods. However, this time I follow an asphalt road steeply uphill for a while. The road is the access for the dam and not a public road - I don't think a through road would be allowed to sustain such a slope. I climb along the road for a half mile before the Trail turns left off the road and returns to the woods.Back in the woods I continue uphill for a little while before starting downhill toward Wilbur Dam Road. It feels like the distance has been greater than my guide indicates, though that may just be because I am pressed for time. I don't see the road until I am upon it, as I have been walking without my glasses on ever since the Trail departed the last road. There is a single car here but I put on my glasses before approaching to see if it is Warren. It is him, and he tells me I am right on time. I put my pack into his car and we set off back toward his home, which he runs as a folk school.We discuss plans for slackpacking tomorrow. Warren thinks it is possible for me to slackpack from Wilbur Dam Road all the way into Damascus, which amounts to about 39 miles. I am not sure of doing such a long distance, but I am also surprised at how confident Warren is in me pushing for such great mileage when my longest prior day was almost 25 miles. I suggest slackpacking while Warren is attending to an event tonight, and it just so happens we are about to pass by the Tennessee Route 91 trailhead. We should have thought about having me slack from Wilbur Dam Road up to here this afternoon, instead of me slackpacking down to the more distant less readily accessible trailhead. This will work though as long as I am okay with waiting a bit late to be picked up.I put a few snacks and the remainder of my water into a day pack. There are no views indicated in the guide and I figure I am pressed for time, so I do not bring my camera for once. I head off, going southbound for the first time since I accidentally took a short bypass trail and then walked south back over the missed segment. Within a half mile I stumble across Roosta and Bison. They are just breaking camp for the day - they had attempted to night hike all the way to Damascus but broke off the hike early in the morning. Unfortunately, Roosta's sleeping pad, carried for a few days now, is in Warren's car and rapidly leaving the area. I figure I will get it to him tomorrow on Damascus though.I pass a couple other hikers that I am unfamiliar with. The first one is resting and I do not engage him in conversation as I pass by. The second one is Paranoia, a hiker previously unmet but the name is not unfamiliar to me. Someone previously mentioned him as one who would be interesting to meet. Paranoia has completed the Pacific Crest Trail and the Continental Divide trail, and will complete the triple crown with the Appalachian Trail. I chat briefly but have sixteen miles to walk, and Paranoia has a long afternoon as well.These 16 miles are mostly a single steady ridge walk. There is one brief stop near the start at the memorial of Nick Grindstaff, a hermit who lived on this ridge. The epitaph reads simply, "Lived alone, suffered alone, and died alone." It is a long while before I encounter my next hikers. I meet Diddo, a Montana hiker, and chat with her briefly before moving along to the south. I pass her partner, Zippy, shortly after I continue moving south. My next stop comes when I spot a lone Snickers bar duct-taped to a tree branch. The old saying goes 'never take candy from strangers' but I figure at this point the woods are more than an acquaintance. The candy bar comes with me.Somewhat later I pass Dozer and Funyuns as they continue northbound. They knew I was pushing hard for Wilbur Dam Road and that I was unsure of what my plan of action would be after I reached that point. As I approach it becomes apparent that I have shed most of my gear. Some folks consider slackpacking to be undignified, and insist on carrying their full packs for every mile. I am indifferent on whether I carry a pack or not, but for a lone hiker with no opportunities for support it is usually far more practical to just carry everything with me. Having the opportunity to hike without a pack for a short while is just as much a feat as the extra physical effort i would have expended to carry my pack for the rest of today. Dozer and Funyuns seem to take a similar mindset on slackpacking, and congratulate me and exchange fistbumps as I pass by.My next stop is a brief visit to Vandeventer Shelter to sign the register and eat a snack. The shelter is perched on the ridge with views to the east. As I descend away from the shelter the Trail moves from the ridge down to a spring. In spite of slackpacking this afternoon, I brought my water filter with me. I partially refill my water before continuing on. It has been a long day walking in warm weather, and I should still drink plenty even though I am carrying less weight. From here I just have to climb back to the ridge one more time before descending back toward Wilbur Dam Road.This descent is almost entirely comprised of long, leisurely switchbacks. They seem recent, as many times when the Trail switches back from the ridge the old alignment is clearly visible continuing straight down the ridge. I am at the bottom of these switchbacks after sunset but well before dark, at around 2000. This is quite fortunate, as I discover I have left my headlamp back in my own pack. Now that I am back at Wilbur Dam Road all that remains is to kill time and wait for Warren to wrap up his event and return to this spot. It is a long wait, with little to do beside write. It starts to rain, and then to storm, and I have to stop writing and instead listen to music as I wait.I consider starting back toward a larger road and finding some dry overhang to wait under, but I am uncertain of any such place being nearby. I may not even be able to contact Warren t let him know where I have gone, so I stay here and try to keep to the meager shelter of my rain jacket. I do not like using it, as I wind up mostly wet anyways. A passing SUV on the quiet road tricks me into thinking Warren has arrived at 2130. At around 2200 the SUV passes by the other way, and shortly afterward Warren pulls up. I am thrilled to get out of the rain and jump in for the trip back to his residence.On the return trip we stop at the only open eatery on the way, McDonalds. I have not eaten at such a place in at least a decade, at first because it never sat well in my stomach and more recently just to say I haven't eaten in McDonalds in that great a time. However, with that as the only option for hot food with lots of calories, I go for it. It is not great food, but it will give me energy for tomorrow. Warren remarks at how we don't appear to be from around these parts - he in his festive dance attire, and me in my hiking kilt. After this stop, we return to the sprawling old farmhouse that is Warren's home and folk school. It is late and he plans to drop me off very early tomorrow, so I am seen to an indoor bunk room to rest.Peace,