Date: 2005-03-13
From: the Hiker Hostel

To: Springer Mountain
Miles today: 0.0
Weather: clear sky

3.13.05Day 0 (not to be confused w/ 'Zero Day') -- The Approach5:30am So, the natives are getting restless. Still an hour before the sun will reveal his presence, but not so us hikers. And guess which of us have already stirred? Me, Cuppa Joe, and Red Hat -- the 'old, experienced pros' at this. Hah. So, how come we're the insomniacs?7am As the grits were being passed around the breakfast table, someone commented, 'Southern grits, they really stick to your ribs.' To which Josh replies, 'Yeah, and if you leave them sit long enough, you can spackle w/ 'em.'1:30pm As I approach the summit of Springer Mountain, a riptide of emotions swells w/in me, stealing my breath (or is that just the climb?) and threatening to engulf me. I've been hiking all day w/ Chuck and Turtle, but the last few steps, as I retrace the path my feet traversed one year ago, I selfishly seek solitude. All day, there have been moments, as if a photograph was flashed before me, and I can recall every sound, every scent, every breeze wafting across my face. The spot where I encountered PaPa Bear and Badger, I could identify top w/in a 10-foot section of trail. And these moments have been assailing me all day, randomly, not even particularly significant locales. But, they certainly left an indelible mark, and now they're becoming integrated into the new snapshots of today's journey. Well, Springer awaits...8:10pm It was an emotional reunion, returning to Springer. A couple of plaques, a handful of boulders -- it may not sound like much, but what that mountain embodies, what it represents, holds a wellspring of meaning and significance to me, that mere words cannot convey. Suffice it to say, I am well and truly HOME. My mind and my heart have been down in Georgia for so long, and now my body has finally caught up, reuniting the parts of myself. I feel complete. Whole. Happy. Although 'happy' is such an inadequate description. The last mile of the Approach, I was feeling physically spent. My knees were protesting the ascent. But, all of a sudden, when I recognized where I was, that this was it, this climb was of Springer Mountain, suddenly my pack was weightless, non-existent, my legs rejeuvenated by an unknown source of energy. Endorphins are a miraculous thing, ain't they? And then reaching the summit... it was so surreal, so dream-like, and yet nothing in my life has ever been so unequivocally real, and vivid. And the emotional high that's been burgeoning and accruing all day is still cresting. (Which makes the fallout a scary prospect.) Today's weather was, in a word, perfect. Sunny clear skies of oceanic blue, temps in the 60s, cooling breezes wicking away the heat (and inevitable sweat). Around 4pm, a bevy of potential stormclouds briefly shadowed the sky, but now, the heavens are dusted w/ stars. I was even able to identify (w/ my meager knowledge of the constellations) -- Orion and his trusty belt, Cassiopeia, the Big Dipper, Polaris, and the Pleides (which pretty much sums up my knowledge of the night sky). But, it appears that I made a wise (or auspicious) choice in my selection of field guides -- the Audobon Society's astronomy guide. Yes, I know that it's a weighty item, but it's my luxury item. Well... One of them. Along w/ my binoculars. And my night-time reading. (The final choice was To Kill a Mockingbird. I've already read it half-a-dozen times, but it's worth re-reading, every single time.) I didn't weigh my pack, down at the Visitor's Center at Amicalola -- too much of a wimp to want to hear the unpleasant truth. It's unquestionably lighter than what I toted last year (49#). My (admittedly uneducational) guess is that it's hovering in the upper-30# range. But, it felt great today. No, it felt more than great, to toss it on once again. Even the menial camping chores, like filtering water and setting up the tent, felt good to perform, and I easily slid right back in to the comfortable routine. Although, I must confess, the wind played havoc on my trying to light my alcohol stove. I didn't bring a windscreen, b/c I didn't use one last year, w/ no difficulties. So, to avoid the gusts, I manufactured a makeshift out of rocks, building a protective wall around my stove. Nessecity is the mother of invention, eh?In addition to star-gazing this evening, we were treated to a lightning display. Brilliant flashes, appearing reddish through the filter of clouds. Thankfully, they progressed northeast of us. 'Tho, there is rain in the forecast, according to the weatherman. We'll just have to wait and see...A plethora of new faces today. One of my greatest frustrations from my journal last year is that I largely neglected to write about the folks around me, my adopted trail family. The AT is so communal, w/ such kinship b/t the hikers. And so, in an attempt to remedy my failure of last year, I'll try and provide a brief description of my fellow trekkers. (At least, I will for now. Good intentions and all that...) To begin:Cuppa Joe. What can I say about this guy? His smile is a permanent feature, and it's genuine. He offered (and I unhesitatingly accepted) to tote my tent to Springer, as I was hiking the Approach, and he was only coming from FS42 (~1 mile). But, that's just who Cuppa Joe is -- unassumingly offering his help, w/o hesitation, w/o expectation of reciprocation.Chuck. A native of Rochester, NY. Soft-spoken, unassuming, introspective, perceptive. He's already got me pegged, in one day, and has been offering up reading recommendations right and left. Also, he sets an excellent pace.Turtle. Talkative, inquisitive -- he peppered us all w/ questions, from a smorgasboard of subjects. An Arizonan, so I was able to reminisce about my time in the Southwest.I Can. A marathon runner, so you can imagine his pace. He's been dreaming about this hike since he was 16, which proves that there's no due date on dreams.Mike. Tall, lanky Chicagoan. Break a Leg wasn't kidding when she said he towered over all his companions. A recent college grad, he's seeking an escape, and maybe some answers, over the next six months. His friends all think he's crazy, but then so do mine. (They think I'm crazy, not Mike. 'Tho they probably think him crazy too.)and lastly, Break a Leg. We've been in e-mail contact for a while, and all I can say is that the personality and spunk evident in her writing, shines even brighter in person. As does her humor.And so concludes the introductions of the newest members of my family on Springer Mountain. As the days progress, the faces and names may change, some additions, some subractions, some re-encounters a month from now, at a random spot on the trail. But each is like welcoming a long-lost relative home.9:30pm Well, returning to my tent after a night-time privy run, the lightning show is still in full effect, and the stars have been blanketed by a wispy cover of clouds. There are no tell-tale signs of headlamps in the neighboring tents, and, as it is past hiker's midnight, I believe I will join my comrades in sleep.