Date: 2006-04-13
From: LITTLE LAUREL SHELTER

To: FLINT MTN. SHELTER
Miles today: 12.7

ANCIENT RUINSI loved today's hike. There was so much variety in scenery all day long. Our feet hurt from all the rocks we walked on but it was worth it.The morning started out with a butt busting 1,200 foot ascent of Camp Creek Bald. Up at the top, I was surprised to find that this is the same mountain that can be seen far in the distance from Tusculum College in Greeneville. There are numerous towers on top, that's how you can tell this one from the others. I took pictures of the towers so I can brag to the kids later that we climbed that big mountain.A short time later, we came to White Rocks Cliff. We took pictures of the magnificent view before moving on. Beyond the cliffs we came to a section of trail that was nothing but huge broken chunks of boulders half covered in green moss. We had to use our hands a couple of times to get up or down these rocks. I really like climbing on the rocks; it reminds me of being a kid. As we were working our way up to the stony ridgeline, I imagined myself climbing the steps to ancient ruins. In a way, I guess these old mountains are America's ancient ruins.From the top of the ridge we could see far out into the Tennessee Valley. The landscape is mostly made up of brown and green squared off farm acreage. There are also a few buildings dotting the land here and there. Then, way off in the distance, we could see a small town. Maybe it was Greeneville.The 6.7 miles to Jerry Cabin shelter seemed to take forever! It was a lot of work getting over those rocks. We stopped for lunch at the shelter along with Handlebar, Heald and his Wonder Dog, and Natty Boh. Everyone agreed it had been a long but rewarding 6 miles.After lunch we encountered more rocky trail. This time however, they weren't the big beautiful boulders. No, these rocks were about the size of one's fist with many sharp corners to bore into the bottom of your feet as you walk. There were some respites from this rocky torture once in while. On a grassy bald with an overlook to the valley, we found a headstone. Buried there is Howard Bassette, who thru-hiked in 1968 and died in 1988. For a while, the trail followed an old forest road. The ground there was softened by pine needles; welcome relief for our sore feet. Just past the road, we came to an historical gravesite. The Sheltons were a local family who had two members who joined the Union Army during the Civil War. When the two men returned to the family, Confederate soldiers ambushed eight family members and killed them. Three of them, including a thirteen year old boy, are buried at that site.Next came the grand finale of the day: the BIG DOWNHILL. I know we've had worse, but we were feeling beat up by now. For a mile and a quarter, we went straight down. The knees were straining against the momentum and the dogs (my feet) were howling! Once we got to the bottom I was expecting to see someone handing out medals --- geeze Loiuse, that was tough!Humble little Flint Mountain shelter was only a mile and a half uphill from there, thank goodness. We were the only ones there at first. Then came the flying black bugs. I didn't pack any Deet to defend myself against these dastardly little beasts. For some reason, they love to constantly hover two to three inches in front of my vision, occasionally darting into my eyes and nostrils. My only recourse is to continually swat, snort and shake my head like a crazy woman. I will be crazy soon if I can't get away from these awful creatures!Luckily, two more victims arrived. Whoey and Gunner soon replaced me as their primary target. While the two of them snorted and stamped, I retreated to the safety of my mesh tent. I think Gunner prevailed when he started his awful singing. I, too, may have to leave if he doesn't quit before bedtime.