Date: 2004-05-09
From: Cold Spring Shelter

To: Nantahala Outdoor Center
Miles today: 11.4
Weather: light rain

The last 6 days had each been between 18.5 and 22 miles. I was tired and needed my sleep. Unfortunately, in the middle of the night, my sleep was interrupted by bouncing of the old shelter floor. This was accompanied by passionate whispers. Grrr. Get a tent.Miles Counted: In the beginning it was hard to figure whether to count that 8.8 mile approach in the total miles hikes. After all, some folks didn't even hike it. It had an effect on the daily average too. As the days and miles built, it all became less and less relevant. All that really mattered were the miles from Springer and to Katahdin.It was now the morning of May 9th. This was my 8th day on the trail after 7 nights. Adam had told me about the Nantahala Outdoor Center or NOC, just 11.5 miles ahead, todays destination. The NOC, is 134 miles from Springer not counting the 8.8 mile approach trail. That was fantastic.Bud hiked along with us some this morning. We crossed over another bald and visited another fire tower. The low clouds made islands of the mountaintops in the valleys. Adam & I hiked together all day down to the Nantahala River and the NOC. There was continuous conversation. It was nice to have some one to talk with for a change.The clouds kept changing the viewscape and the shutter of the camera just kept clicking. Yes, it's a digital camera but the shutter sound effect is great.Breaking out of the trees at the Nantahala Outdoor Center or NOC was kind of like arriving at Pinkham Notch in the Whites of NH only more commercial but not in a bad way. People in pursuit of wilderness adventure roamed about on both sides of the river. Thru-hikers sat on benches eating ice cream. Adam led me to a building just across the road where we registered for bunks. At the NOC there was an outfitter, hostel, restaurant and lodgings. There were all sorts of outdoor activities operating out of the place. They offered hiking, biking, climbing, kayaking, rafting and who knows what else. It was nice being here with Adam kind of acting as guide. This was his back yard the way the White Mountains are my back yard. Many of the places we have been, he has hiked before. It was lunch time so we went to the Rivers End Restaurant which was of course right on the river. The Nantahala here is a pretty big river with a strong current. It looks like fun. The restaurant was bustling but no one blinked an eye at our packs or wrinkled a nose at what was certainly our stench. The place definitely catered to our crowd.After a fine lunch we parted ways to deal with civilized things like pay phones, laundry machines, bunkhouses, mail, groceries and the outfitter shop. We had been assigned to the same bunk room and given keys. There were bunks for 4 but we had it all to our selves which gave us plenty of space to deal with gear.The bunkhouses were over the footbridge across the Nantahala, past the snack bar, beyond the gear rental shops, over the railroad tracks, up the hill, past the fancy restaurant and yet further up the hill. Much of this route was along the AT until just after crossing the tracks. Then there was a sign to a blue trail to the bunkhouses and parking lots. Right next to our bunkhouse, Bartram, was the common building. It had a big room of tables & benched and a pay phone. Adjoining that was a big kitchen with at least 3 sinks & stoves. Downstairs were the shower rooms and laundry. Laundry and shower were the next items on the agenda.The visit to the NOC was full of adventure. Several really fun stories follow. What a day this was to become.Laundry & Showers: These are a bit strange on the trail. There isn¢t enough laundry to even come close to a full load but the clothes have to get washed. There are maybe 4 pair of socks, a t-shirt, a pair of shorts, maybe a pair of long johns and a long sleeve polypro shirt. It¢s silly. Sometimes sharing a washer with another hiker makes it more efficient. Then what do you wear while all your clothes are in the wash. Most thru-hikers resort to wearing rain pants. That¢s right, just rain pants. How bizarre. The shower is just a wonderful thing and here you could shower while your clothes were washing. Water conservation in the shower is usually important to me but with only one shower every week or two, it took a back seat. Hair needed to be washed at least twice and skin needed to be scrubbed. Mud would get so caked on my calves that they needed serious scrubbing. The shower felt so good.The First Town Hitch:First things first, food was needed to fuel the engine to hike the hike. This required a hitch to a super market 12 miles to the east in Bryson City. It sounded like the kind of town name that belonged out west somewhere. After finding the right bunk house and emptying my pack of all but rain gear I sought a spot on the road across from the NOC Outfitter Shop. There was a forked street corner of sorts there but two folks were already hitching in that spot. It didn¢t seem right to join them. No one is likely to pickup 3. Besides it was hot and that spot was in the sun. I stood 50 feet down the road in the shade and just hoped they would get picked up soon so that my chance might come. US 19 is narrow and windy. Between the steep mountain on one side and the sheer drop to the river on the other there is seldom any room for a shoulder. It wasn¢t long before Bud showed up and joined me. He said we should be standing on the corner but I told him they were there first. Eventually they got a ride and we moved to the hot sunny corner. Bud still made me a bit uncomfortable but he was a nice guy. Time passed, along with cars, and then one stopped, a Saturn with a twenty something girl at the wheel. She asked where we were going. I said Bryson City. She said sorry, not going that far. I offered to pay but it was still no. Then Bud pokes his head in the window and says, ¢I¢ll toke you up.¢ She said, ¢Oh, I¢ve been looking for some.¢ Now I¢m really feeling uneasy and try to beg off saying I¢ll just catch the next ride. Bud says, ¢We¢ll wait till you get out, if that¢s ok.¢ So we had our ride. She told us how she really liked the Saturn because she had survived a collision with a truck (tractor trailer) in her last Saturn. She proceeded to tell us the whole story and how the other guy¢s insurance company was unjustly trying to pin the accident on her. After all it was he who swerved into her lane. We, of course, took her side but as she repeatedly swerved around the winding bends at high speed, our thoughts began to lean in favor of the truck driver. Finally I was relieved to be dropped off at the Ingles Super Market. We had taken a few turns on various roads to get there. This was of some concern for the return hitch. Bud and the girl headed off for her place I believe. Wow.The two guys who got the ride ahead of us greeted me just inside the store. They were ecstatic. Their ride was waiting for them in the parking lot to take them back to NOC. Unbelievable. Perhaps, if I was quick enough, no forget that. Visions of walking 12 miles all the way back to NOC haunted me. It was strange to be in a nice big fancy supermarket in my smelly t-shirt, shorts & boots after more than a week on the trail. That¢s not to say that there haven¢t been similar situations for me. But still it¢s odd. Then there was the fact that there was no car waiting for me in the parking lot. Heck, I didn't even know the directions back to NOC. It¢ll all work out, though not without some anxiety. The shopping went well so now it was time for another hitch. It wasn¢t a busy road but someone stopped before too long. It was a man and woman in an old beater of a car. There were packs in the back. As it turns out they were friends coming back form a day hike. It must be a weekend. Yup, Sunday, May 9th. We dropped her off at her car somewhere. He was a teacher, shop I think, and a track coach at a local high school. We talked about our work with kids as he took me back up to NOC. My first hitch to town had been not only successful but a fairly painless adventure and surely not dull.The Knife:Ditching my pack full of food fresh from the super market on a bench outside the NOC Outfitter, it was time to get a few other things. After all, I needed a knife. Ah, therein lies a tale. Remember back when I was packing to leave NH. Remember how everything that goes on the plane would be traveling the whole trail with me. That meant that there would be no day pack to use as carry-on luggage. There would be no place to keep my ticket, snacks and other stuff that is nice to have in the cabin during a flight. At the airport this was troubling me, so, at the last minute, while checking my pack, I snapped off the brain to use as carry on luggage. That¢s the little pouch that sits on top of the pack bag with the little zipper compartments for all those little personal items, emergency gear, guide books, wallet, etcetera. This seemed like a good idea. It can even be worn as a fanny pack. I hate fanny packs. So it was off to the security check-in at Logan in nothing but a Wickers polypro t-shirt, nylon draw string shorts, socks, boots and of course my good old gaiters. This should be easy but this guy pulls me over to a table just past the scanner and starts digging into my little pack. Well there are all sorts of weird electrical gadgets in there. That must be the concern. There is a solar battery charger. There are the adapter cables that allow it to connect to my Palm or the AA and AAA battery packs for my headlamp and camera. Oh and then there¢s the SteriPen by Hydro-Photon, an ultraviolet water sterilizer. Now there¢s a strange looking gadget. It looked like something Dr. McCoy would have used on the original Star Trek series. Of course I¢m feeling compelled to try to explain each gadget at he exhumes it. He is un-phased by these things and obviously frustrated. Then finally he finds his grail. Deep within the mesh ditty sack containing my fork, spoon and tooth brush he pulls out my 3¢ Gerber pocket knife. How foolish of me. Of course when the pack was packed it was going to be checked. Oh well. He offered to mail it ahead but to where. I asked if he could check it but he couldn¢t. Just keep it I said. I found it while cleaning under a tent platform at camp anyhow. Back at the NOC gear shop it was time to get a knife. They had an exact replacement but then there was a smaller and much lighter Gerber. Hey it was cheaper too. All it needed to do was cut the cheese and an occasional piece of string so why not a tiny knife. It turned out to be perfect. It was so small that it almost got left behind at a shelter. After another kind hiker returned it I got wise and girth hitched it to a loop of orange bear string. Later, it found a new home on the food stuff sack draw string rather than being buried in the personals stuff sack. It was never lost again and I was happy.There were a few other items on my outfitters shopping list: a collapsible Platypus 1 liter water bag, a map of the Great Smokey National Park, some nylon fabric for gaiter repairs and some clips to modify my tent so it would no longer need pole sleeves. They had no fabric but a stuff sack should do the trick after disassembly. The water bag and map worked out too. The tent pole clips were a no go. Pole sleeves had always been hateful things but these were such small ones. They were still hateful. Pizza by the River:Adam & I finally met up again in the bunk room sometime after 7pm. He didn¢t need to go the supermarket because he was using mail drops for resupply. He had picked up his package at the NOC Outfitter and was sorting through that. It was time for dinner and we decided to go back to the River¢s End Restaurant. We got there and it was closed. This was quite disturbing. We were both sure it didn¢t close till 8pm. We had both noted independently that the chalkboard on the easel by the door had said that it would close at 8pm. It was only about 7:30 now.We went inside to ask the staff who was cleaning up what the deal was. They said we were wrong. They closed at 7pm. This was very depressing news to a couple of hungry thru-hikers. We asked if there was anyplace near by. There was a convenience store at a gas station several miles to the east but wait. There was also Pizza by the River. Sure, they¢ll be open said the staff. It¢s just a few miles to the west. We asked if we could call to see how late they were open. After all one never knows how long a hitch will take and we'd been burnt once already. No, came the response, they don¢t have a phone. What, no phone. We were incredulous. Who ever heard of a pizza place without a phone, especially in this day of cellular technology. We stood there for a moment, at something of a loss, until the teenage busboy offered to give us a ride. It was getting dark by now. We took him up on the offer. He was a nice kid. He dropped us off and went back to work.There it was, a little shack, sandwiched between US 19 and the Nantahala River, clinging to a narrow bit of the bank. There was a big black cast iron wood fired stove of some sort belching steam and smoke on the road side of the shack. It was pretty dark by now. There were folks sitting around the stove thing. One got up and went inside when we arrived. There was a deck on the left side where there was a screened window for placing orders. We ordered a large cheese pie and a couple of rood beers or something. Adam ordered some buffalo wings too. It was a pretty relaxed place and the folks in the kitchen were pretty relaxed too. Sitting on the counter behind the ordering screen there was a good sized stuffed Yoda looking out at us. The place was adorned with Christmas lights. The deck wrapped around back, a step or two lower and had band equipment set up kind of facing the river. There was a sign that hung out over the river to solicit boaters no doubt. It was black and had a white skull & cross bones on it and simply said, "Pizza by the River". As we stood around waiting for our pizza, one of the cooks offered us each a beer. We turned him down but the odd thing is that he wasn¢t offering to sell it to us. He just offered it to us. Come to think of it, the other odd thing was that he was drinking a beer while he made our pizza. The food was good. We sat at a picnic table by the river. Adam had far too much with the wings. Other folks came, got food and left. They were obviously regulars. This place was a real phenomenon, a little frightening but a lot of fun. Talk about local color, they didn¢t even have a phone. We¢re thinking the wings were in the cooker out front but we didn¢t dare ask. We had a blast.It¢s after 9pm now and time to hitch back to NOC in the dark on a curve on a rise on a narrow winding road with no shoulder. We stood across from Pizza by the River with our toes on the white line and our backs against the cliff feeling pretty stupid. At least we were on the inside of the curve. A few cars whipped by as we pulled our thumbs out of their way. Then a miracle happened, or so we thought. A pickup truck stopped. Adam called to the three teens in the cab that we were going to NOC as we quickly hopped in the back before someone else came along and rammed the back of the truck. It couldn¢t really be said that we were in the truck as the bed was so full of stuff we merely hovered above it. I was on a sack of something near the tailgate. Adam was up near the cab. The thing took off like a bat out of hell. We held on for dear life. Adam clung to the roof of the cab while I clenched the top edge of the bed wall. One of the kids stuck his head out the window as we screamed around a curve and offered us a beer. I don¢t know what the drinking age is here but these guys could not have qualified. The truck felt like it should be up on two wheels on every turn. Either these guys were trying to mess with a couple of hikers or they were just stupid drinking teens out for a joy ride. Either way this was a scary ride. I mean really. I found myself running scenarios in my head of how to survive being flung from the truck verses leaping from the truck before it rolled. To tuck and roll or try and land on my feet, to jump on the outside or the inside of a curve, these seemed to be my options. Finally we approached NOC but the truck wasn¢t slowing down. Oh no, were they really going to play games with us. This would need a whole other set of scenarios. At the last minute the wheels cut to the left and the truck lurched to a halt in the NOC parking lot by the foot bridge. We tumbled off the truck and waved bye and thanks as the truck screamed away. We stepped onto the foot bridge and both fell to the deck in pained nervous laughter. We must have carried on for ten minutes reliving the adventure and exchanging perspectives. Neither of us would ever forget this night. We headed through the darkness back to our bunk room and went to sleep. This may have only been an 11.4 mile day but not all adventure is on the trail.