Date: 2005-03-29
From: Winding Stair Gap

To: Wayah Bald
Miles today: 10.1
Weather: clear sky

.29.05Day 166am What a difference a day makes. I went to sleep to a cold, bitter night, rain still spitefully spitting from the sky. I wake up to the serenading chorus of songbirds (Yes, through the motel walls), to a pale blue sky, streaked w/ pale pink highlights of clouds, reflecting the light from the rising sun. My breath is visible in the morning air, but it's a pleasant coolness, rather than a bone-chilling cold. Basically, another perfect day for hiking.I just have to say that the Haven Inn is spectacular. The past 2 mornings, I've stumbled into the office, in my ceaseless quest to get my journal updated, and both times, I've been handed a cup of coffee before I even sit down.9pm Sleeping on top of the world tonight, on Wayah Bald, up in the tower. A feat of engineering and architectural innovation, rivaling Frank Lloyd Wright, we've rigged a windbreak from our collective tents. So, I'm sleeping under a neon-yellow silnylon ground cloth. The stars are absolutely phenomenal tonight -- twinkling down upon us from their berths in the smoky black sky. Castor and Pollux, in their home constellatin of Gemini, have joined the ranks of my familiars and identifiables. Slowly, I'm accruing an astrolonomical repertoire. Haven't had too many clear nights. At least, not many that weren't so bloody cold you couldn't last 5 minutes before freezing. But, tonight is perfect. Gazing up at the stars, sent a shiver down my spine, looking up at the same glittering noctural gems that have enraptured humankind for eons. The mythology of the constellations is fascinating, but the night sky really has its own voice; the stars speak their own language, and to c!atch even a glimpse, eavesdrop on a snippet of that conversation, is awe-some.We didn't hit the trail until 11:30 today, and I was going absolutely bonkers this morning, waiting around. Inactivity galls me, to no end, under normal circumstances, but I've been itchin' to get hiking. The morning was positively bee-utiful, and the AT virus that infected my blood last year became inflamed today, an infection that could only be appeased by getting on the trail and walking. So, all the waiting around for shuttles was tortuous. (As was the painfuly slow internet connection.) But, tossin' the ol' pac on, and taking those first steps on the trail was absolutely glorious, realigning all my disquietudes, quelling my AT inflammation.B/c of our late start, we didn't reach Wayah Bald until nearly 7pm just in time to capture the sunset from the tower. An indescribably gorgeous palette of red hues, the sky a painter's canvas, the mountain ridges a perfect backdrop. The whole day was perfect. The weather was ideal hiking conditions -- sunny skies, temps in the 60s, light cooling breezes. Our string of trail magic continues unbroken -- a double dose today. First, we encountered 2 members of the Nantahala Hiking Club, performing trail maintenance, and also doling out Easter candy and dyed Easter eggs. Mmmm. Thanks to that pair, and to all the trail maintainers and volunteers, for all of your help and hard work. We truly appreciate the eork and sweat you invest; you are the folks that make the trail what it is. So, my thanks to all of you anonymous folks. Our second course of trail magic occured at the tail end of the day, just as the privy on Wayah Bald came into view. There it was -- a styrofoam co!oler. Break tentatively lifted the lid -- nothing is more disappointing that coming across trail bounty, only to find it plundered and empty. But, fortune strikes again! Ice cold Cokes, Gatorade, chocolate, and 2 beers (which we saved for the boys, who straggled in behind us). Ahh, sweet carbonated ambrosia. Stumbling across something like that, at the end of a long day, is so rejeuvenating and inspiring. It brought a smile to Cuppa Joe's face, despite his frustrated exhaustion ("Those were the longest damn 1.8 miles, I tell you what."), and a full-fledged, ear-to-ear grin on Weatherman's. (That Budweiser didn't last a minute.)I actually feel, physically, really good. Superb, even. Sure, I'm tired, after putting in our typical 10 miles. But, 'tired' in the sense that I feel like I've done a full day, but haven't pushed myself, haven't drawn on my reserves. Pleasantly exhausted, but not overly so. The trail today involved a lot of ascents, which usually drains my energy, but today they seemed considerably less formidable. I feel as if I've had my trail legs for a good week now, and could probably up my miles comfortably to 15 or 16 w/ little difficulty (or repercussions), but there's positively no need to do so. In addition to the legs, though, I think the slower pace has allowed me to build up my lungs as well. Last year, I raced up the hills, and so I reached the top quickly, but also usually out of breath. Going slower, my lung capacity is increasing. I still huff and puff a bit, but I notice an almost-daily improvement. Yet one more advantage to this easy, relaxed pace and mileage. !Our miles/hour rate has been incrementally increasing, too. One of the things that just develops on its own, w/o you forcing it. Today, we churned out 2.5 miles in about 45 minutes, not intentionally, but just flowing w/ the gentle terrain of the trail. Break, upon learning this, said "Ye-ah. We just tear this sh#t up. Kum-ba-YA!" (As a preamble to this remark: our reputation of beingthe lounge-about break-takers on the trail precedes us. Brownie commented on it a few days ago, and, that same day, Mothergoose said "Everytime I catch up to you guys, you're sittin' around, takin' a break. I feel like you should be in a circle, holdin' hands,singin' Kumbaya." Ever since then, that's sort of become our unofficial motto.) But, the notorious Mileage Monster seems to be infecting a lot of people. Folks sem to be getting obsessed w/ churning out the miles. I just wish I could convey the total non-necessity of these concerns. There's no need to rush, whatsoever. !There's every reason to savor this experience, to take every moment and treasure it. The journey holds the value, not the destination. I learned my lesson last year; it was a difficult and emotionally painful lesson, but I learned it well. And this journey is so amazing, so inspiring, so much a self-exploration and -discovery. I don't know what path I'll take, what will be around the next bend. But I do know that, whatever it is, I'll rise to face it. And, every day that I spend out here, I find another piece of myself, I learn some unknown facet of who I am, what I am, what I can become, what I am capable of. And, as I gather together these myriad threads of myself, I'm slowly weaving them together into this mosaic tapestry that encapsulates me, all aspects of me. And that's a pretty amazing thing.Right now, the wind is whipping relentlesslyacross our windbreak. Actually, it's probably not so bad, it just sounds so, b/c the tarps rustle w/ every breeze. But, it's surprisingly warm underneath. It is also after 10pm, so I will sign off for the night.