Date: 2016-04-04
From: Mountaineer Shelter

To: Laurel Fork Shelter
Miles today: 18.5
Weather: clear sky

After last nights late haul in, I woke up to hikers filing out of the shelter. As I poked my head out of my tent, I saw Learning Curve headed up the hill. He was surprised to see me. I had shown up in the night while everyone else was fast asleep, grabbed water and camped out up on the hill above the shelter.That's kind of been my style out here. I'm the guy that's utterly useless before 10am, but has no problem putting up 10+ miles after sunset. I'm not really a morning person, even though I've tried time and time again to convince myself that I am. Some mornings out here start with me doing my whole routine before I leave camp, and other mornings I do what I need as I go along. One thing is for sure though, I was a fool for ever thinking that coffee would not still be essential in my life. I've found that a couple of instant packets in some hot water packs a nice punch. Out here in the woods, that hot cup of coffee makes you feel a little more human. Sometimes, it's hard to remember that we're humans out here. We rummage through trash like raccoons, do our business off to the side of the trail like a dog, and we'll eat any mess of scraps like a pig from a trough. We've still got our ability to get a fire going though. That's gotta count for something. With Damascus 3 days in our future, Learning Curve and I hit the trail together. It's a big step to make it to Damascus. It's the trail town of trail towns. This is where the annual Trail Days festival is held. Each year, in May, thousands and thousands of hikers flock to Damascus for trail days. It's a combination of a music festival and a family reunion. Hikers come here to reconnect with one another after their through hikes and to network with gear companies and people in the the industry. It's another one of those milestones that I'll be proud to reach.Learning Curve and I walked together all day. We put up 18 miles to the Laurel Fork shelter. Most of the day was business as usual; walk, eat, talk, eat, talk, eat, walk. You get the gist of it. We passed through groves of rhododendrons, and an abundance of little stream crossings as we worked through the Cherokee National Forest. It's nice to have company whilst solving the problems of the world. I appreciate my time alone, which was the main reason I came out here. But a big part of choosing a north bound hike was because I knew I'd have company along the way. Towards the end of the day descended towards Dennis Cove road, just outside of Hampton, TN. There was an old barn which I stopped to take pictures of. It's places like this that make you feel the seemingly ancient human presence along the way. We spend so much time exploring the truly eternal beauty of the wilderness we work through, but it's this human aspect that reminds us that there have been people many generations before us inhabiting these areas. Many of these lands were donated, by the previous owners, so that the wilderness could be protected for all to enjoy. Some land, was claimed by the government in an effort to do just the same. That's what the barn represented to me.Just before I reached the road, I saw a dog jump out of the bushes. I have no idea where it came from, I suspect probably one of the houses down the street. He gave a quick bark and disappeared into the greenery. I thought at first it could be stray, but then something odd happened. I could actually smell that this dog was clean. Then I got to thinking, this dog, a completely random dog pooping in the bushes, smells cleaner than myself. Weird. The next section I came to was breathtaking. Large sections of rock had been blasted away and the trail ran through. Maybe an old railway or something of that nature. I could see the way the rock had been folded over millions of years of pressure. There was a long descent down a staircase of rocks down to Laurel Falls. My knees never favor this type of activity. So I made like Rainman and counted the steps as I went to distract myself from the crushing pain. There were 306 steps down to the falls. We'll say plus or minus 5 steps, but I'm not willing to go back and do a recount. When I arrived at the shelter, I was alone on the cliff side overlooking the roaring river below. The terrain was rocky and unfavorable for a tent so I hung the hammock. Learning Curve eventually made his way up the steep trail and tossed his poles against the side of the shelter. He was frustrated because he had hiked almost a mile past the shelter due to poor signage. That night we lit a fire and ate on the deck of the shelter. The sun dropped down behind the rocky cliffs and exploded in shades of purples, reds, pinks and oranges. I joked that it was like a screen saver. There was peace as we basked in the satisfaction of full stomachs. Our serenity was disturbed when two massive rats, not mice, came off the shelter walls and made a beeline towards our food. We fought them off without much opposition, but their lack of concern for our presence was startling. I'm glad to be in the hammock tonight and away from the hungry rats in the shelter.