Date: 2004-03-19
From: Sassafras Gap Shelter

To: Cable Gap Shelter
Miles today: 15.2
Weather: clear sky

Soon after leaving camp, we came to Cheoah Bald. This has, without a doubt, been my favorite place on the trail so far.    Wow.    Stepping three feet off the trail, you find yourself standing on the side of a mountain with no trees blocking the view in front of you. Just some grass and small vegetation. The view and just...just the atmosphere was unbelievable. I think I drooled.    I was able to pry myself away to continue the hike, and we got about 3.5 miles into the hike when we stopped to rest at Locust Cove Gap. I decided it was to hot for my fleece, but still wanted something to keep any wind off me. But when I went to grab my Precip (rainjacket/windbreaker), I discovered a problem. This is when I let out a few choice words I will not be repeating here. My friends, shocked at my lack of couth, inquired, "What's wrong?"    My Precip and my pack cover are hanging to dry at Sassafras Gap Shelter...three and a half miles back.    Joy laughed. Arwen looked hurt FOR me. It didn't take long for the jokes to start.    "You know, by the time you hike back to the shelter, you'll be back where you started from and still have hiked the same amount of miles that we hiked yesterday."    Thanks. That's something I wanted to hear.    I have heard of people getting lost or hiking in the wrong direction, and most of the time this adds a MAXIMUM of 2 or 3 miles. Today, I would be adding 7 extra miles.    Seven friggin' miles that I didn't need nor want to hike. I wouldn't be seeing my friends at the end of the day. Hopefully I'd catch up to them by the time we got to Fontana Village. Joy told me the place they were staying and said to call them when I got there.    I hid my backpack in some bushes (I might have to hike 7 extra miles, but there was no way in hell I'd be doing it with 35lbs strapped to my back) and off I went. Southbound for the first time.    I started out running, but that lasted about 30 seconds. After only about a mile and a half, I saw Takoma Tedd coming down the trail.    "Where you going?"    I told him.    "Where's your pack?"    Just a ways down the trail.    "Well, turn around and head back to your pack. I got some good news for you."    I want everyone out there to go to takomatedd.com and order a CD. THANK YOU TAKOMA.    I was so thankful, and must have expressed my gratitude a million times. He kept telling me not to worry about it.    "I'll just say one thing. Friends are the family you meet along the way. Be a river to that family."    Still. Thank you.    I hiked on after filtering some water and met up with all my friends further down the trail. A friend of Takoma's named Mala was there with a vehicle. He was offering to take our packs to the other side of these mountains so we could get about 7 or 8 more miles down without the weight.    Now at first I wasn't excited about the idea. Slackpacking was originally not an acceptable road for me to travel down. But then I thought about it. The goals in my journal state "Springer to Katahdin...Pack-on-back...Every white blaze."    Pack-on-back, eh?    So I dumped out all my crap into a garbage bag and left that with Mala. Strapped a near empty pack (keeping only some water, first aid kit, and an extra layer), and hiked on. With my pack on my back.    Once getting to the other side, Mala had hot dogs and sodas for us. By the time we were done, it had started to get dark. This is how I learned that I need a headlamp. My LED light is great for camp, but I couldn't see a thing as I hiked to the shelter. Going slow and keeping a sharp eye on the trail, I found my way and settled down for the night.