Date: 2013-04-20
From: Long Branch Shelter

To: Cold Spring Shelter, NC
Miles today: 23.1
Weather: scattered clouds

I woke at dawn, after tossing and turning in the loft of the Long Branch Shelter all night. It was difficult to tell how much I had slept, however, I was awake, and excited to embrace a new day. I had been woken at 5am by the abrasive clatter of camp gear dropped on the bottom floor continually for about an hour, by what sounded like a mass exodus. There was no attempt to squelch the noise what so ever. The bottom floor occupants had left the shelter before the crack of dawn. The sun had not risen, but its refracted ochre color first light pierced the black horizon. The air was icy. To inhale the air stung my nostrils. I buried my head back in my bag and tried to close my eyes, but I was awake and so were my loft residents. By 6am, the entire bottom floor appeared vacant It was amusing to think how oblivious others can be. This was a rude awakening to shelter life and an excellent reason for avoiding them when ever possible. When I decided to brave the cold outside my bag, I attempted to thaw some of my damp garments that had frozen stiff over the loft rail. My socks in particular, had frozen into the shape of two chevron folds that could stand on there own. I bent them flat with a crunching noise, and placed them under my sleeping pad to thaw them, before placing them on my feet. My shoes had frozen into ice blocks and required significant effort to bend and thaw enough to cram my numb feet into. Before I departed from the shelter, I noticed the fibrous ice crystals that formed in sheets along the top of the soil horizon. The crystals mimicked the fibrous crystal habit that gypsum often occurs in, beneath playa sediments. It was a fair weather day, though chilly through out the morning. I reached the stone tower and lookout on Wayah Bald (mi 119.9) by around 3pm. It was sunny and clear, with panoramic views of distant ridges from the lookout. On my descent from Wayah Bald, a kind older Georgian woman, who was hiking the opposite direction, returning from her day hike, offered me fresh fruit. I couldn't turn the offer down. I thanked her immensely for the orange, grapes, and apple after introducing myself and asking her where she was from. She told me that she was from northern Georgia, about a 2-hr drive from this location. I hiked about another 5 miles in the late afternoon. The AT dropped into the Burningtown Gap, before its steady ascent of Copper Ridge Bald. The Cold Springs Shelter was about three quarter miles from the summit. I reached the shelter in the cold dark shadows of dusk, warmed by the welcoming fire in front of the shelter. It was here, that I first met Doc Spice, reading a paperback in front of the fire, and Black Foot, a 17 year-old, long haired boy, wearing a wool beanie and wool socks. Black Foot had intentions to hike the entire AT barefoot, accompanied by his dad, who wasn't so foolish. Spoon (formally named Little Spoon) and his girl friend Chuckles were snuggled in to the dark cave of the shelter for the night, illuminated only by the hypnotic red LED of their headlamps. I utilized the grill over the fire ring to boil water for a pot of pasta which saved me from the hassle of dealing with my stove. I cooked an al dente pasta dinner, scrubbed my cookware at the trickling icy spring adjacent to the shelter and wished everyone good night. I hiked a few tens of yards up the trail to my tent that I set up before dinner, on a gentle slope. I had I feeling that I'd find myself sliding down the hill in the middle of the night. Note, set up tent next to tree when on slope! Doc Spice relied on trees with his hammock. I thought about using a hammock myself, but could not get use to the idea of sleeping in one position and felt that I would end up freezing my underside on the colder nights. I enjoyed the ability to write in my journal at night, or eat dinner in my tent when It was raining.