Date: 2017-04-01
From: Flint Mountain Shelter, TN

To: Big Stamp, TN
Miles today: 18.3

Day 25: Flint Mountain Shelter, TN to Big Stamp, TN - 18.3 miles:I woke this morning to another cold, foggy, and wet morning. It wasn't raining, but the plop...plop...plop of water hitting the ground from the overhead trees filled the otherwise silent air. I quickly had my gear packed, cashed a check in the tiny privy on site, and, with Toepick still in her sleeping bag, I told I was going to hike on at my own pace today. With the terrain profile showing mainly inclines for the day, we decided to shoot for the same ending location, but otherwise do our own thing in between.At 8:45am I headed out, saying bye to Toepick and Odin, still on his sleeping pad, and headed off. The rain from the previous day messed up my iPod and I was unable to listen to music for the first several hours. It didn't get wet exactly, but the touchscreen wouldn't register my finger, preventing me from both accessing music and turning it off. I figured it'd just run til it died. The first three miles of trail were flat or gradual inclines/declines, and the going was quick and easy. Four older gentleman who stayed at the shelter with us left half an hour to an hour before me, and I would gradually catch them as the morning unfolded.After crossing over a road, the trail went up and rounded it's way uphill through someone's green pasture. Within another mile I entered a valley with a creek running down the center of it, gradually going higher and further up the valley, disappearing in the dense fog that defined the morning. A couple roosters called as I walked through the woods behind people's homes. An old cemetery sat at the crest of a small hill, a small black fence surrounding two headstones, a light green moss covering one of them. Although a small creek, the water rushed down quickly, climaxing in a ~20ft waterfall, or series of small cascades, about halfway up the valley. I spent a few minutes watching the water tumble over and pass beneath the small rocks I was standing on before returning to climbing.As I reached the back end of the valley, a large wall of earth rose higher into the fog above. I remembered this section, and knew I'd have to climb until I began walking along an old barbed wire fence which would tell me I was nearing the summit of Lick Rock Mountain. Eventually the fence came into view, often times being my only guide as the trail ran parallel with it, disappearing into the fog ahead. I reached Hogback Ridge Gap Shelter around noon, about seven miles into the day. Having covered that distance in just over three hours, I treated myself to a ~40 minute lunch break. As I was slowly packing up, a hiker I was with said that Scarecrow, a hiker ahead of, texted him off trail magic about three miles ahead where I-26 passes through Sam's Gap. That was all I needed to kick it back into gear. As I took off, I sent up a quick prayer, asking for nothing more than the sun to appear today. I imagined it shooting up into the abyss like one of those tubes at the bank, and landing in the to-do pile.Forty minutes later, I had covered the 2.7 miles into the gap and, as I exited the woods, noticed a handwritten sign advertising trail magic to my left, up a 45-degree angled street. From my angle, I could see a truck parked, but no activity around it. Not knowing if the sign was old, from earlier this morning...yesterday...last year, I decided it was worth a quick climb to look. Parked next to a small cemetery near the crest of the hill was Scarecrow and Tin Man (the names being a coincidence) and a trail angel, Quiet Paul, busy scrambling eggs and cooking potatoes, a mixture between hashbrowns and German potatoes. I quickly joined them, a Coke acquired from a cooler nearby, and waited as he cooked up my healthy portion of eggs. Toepick arrived within minutes and caught me by surprised for I figured she'd be a couple hours behind me all day. With my earlier lunch and her running through the downhills, she had been able to close the gap and catch me. She joined me and we were soon enjoying eggs and potatoes together. Quiet Paul even scrambled up four eggs for Odin, the way he likes them. As we sat and enjoyed this unexpected treat, the sun appeared for the first time in over two days, and would shine strong and beautiful for the rest of the day.Feeling content with our eggs and potatoes, we made our way down the steep incline, passing under I-26 in the process, where we met Mrs. Scarecrow, Scarecrow's wife, doing her own version of trail magic. We soon collapsed on the ground along their car and were offered PB&J sandwiches, Oreo's, chips, fruit, and a variety of sodas. Although they were Pepsi drinkers - no one's perfect - I wasn't picky today and happily enjoyed my second soda. We chatted for a while about a variety of things. I told Scarecrow he should look up Negan from The Walking Dead. I'm telling ya, give the guy a wooden baseball bat with some barbed wire around it and a couple skulls to smash, and he's a close second. If the afternoon couldn't get any better, a vehicle soon pulled up across the street and began unloading coolers and bags of food.Enter Steven and Sheron from nearby Asheville, NC. Steve came over and offered their trail magic. Not wanting to be rude to the Scarecrow's, I figured I'd at least saunter over and check on the Coke availability. Steven quickly had a store-brand Coke in my hand, and Sheron followed right after with a sandwich she had already made. The bread was soft - something a good friend has gradually helped me appreciate - the turkey was rich, the lettuce crisp, the tomato juicy, and cheese cheesy, and the mayo Duke's. The Duke's mayo really took the sandwich to another level. So much so that I had to have a second. A third would follow not long after. I'd also have some chips, cookies, a second soda, and would pack out a third soda, chips, and three cuties as I left.Not to get ahead of myself, Toepick, Odin, and me wouldn't leave the company of Steven and Sheron for close to three hours. We sat in their camping chairs along the side of the road, a stone's throw from the humming vehicles on I-26, and got lost in good conversation. From sports, to math, to geography trivia, to hiking, to bumper stickers, to movie quotes, we covered the basics of a little of life's essentials. We thanked them several times over, and although Steven said we were the ones busting our asses each day, Toepick countered and summed it up best with: Although we're hiking, we're hiking for ourselves. You give for others. They had us each sign their register they've had ever since they began helping hikers a couple years ago. I briefly flipped to 2015 and saw that Rock Boat had enjoyed some of Sheron's famous banana pudding. Small world. Steven and Sheron, wherever y'all are tonight, it was a genuine and perfect way to spend a few hours with y'all. I'll enjoy the soda, chips, and cuties tomorrow. For now, here's to y'all.A little after 5pm, Steven and Sheron had to leave. Although we were their only real visitors on the day, a few other hikers already stuffed from the other two trail magic sessions quickly grabbing a snack and moving on, they both agreed I now hold their record for the most consumed by a single hiker. Guys, it's an honor. Toepick and I decided to cut our 18-mile goal down to around 14, and make it to a campsite in around four miles, just before 7pm. With eggs, potatoes, two bags of chips, cookies, Oreo's, a Gatorade, three sandwiches, and four sodas consumed, I loosened my belt buckle, threw on my pack, and head back into the mountains with Toepick and Odin, the thoughts of how perfect an afternoon it had been. To make things better, my iPod began working again so I was able to listen to music again and get lost in my food coma-induced thoughts.We soon reached a large meadow, overlooking Big Bald and a row of houses dotting the ridge to the east. All the homes were a reminder that we're not always as "out there" as we sometimes feel. I commented to Toepick that Big Bald, Erwin's version of Hot Spring's Max Patch, looked awfully close. At six trail miles from our current location, it was a bit more than we planned to do before nightfall, but we'd keep the option open. After four miles we reached Low Gap and checked the guide. It was 6:45pm and it was still 2.7 miles to the summit. With beautiful, clear skies,I wanted a sunset at the summit. With a pretty rigorous climb, I didn't know if it was possible, but was game to try. Toepick agreed, and, after telling her I'd stop at the summit, off I went at my own pace.The trail seemed to meander in every direction other than where the summit loomed overhead. I covered the first half of the stretch quickly, but eventually tired over the last mile as the terrain grew steeper and more rugged. I felt like I could see the shadow of sunset out of the corners of my eyes, telling me to give it up. The shadows of trees grew longer, and the mountainside turned a dark orange, hinting that my time was about up. I began jogging during one flat stretch, spooking a deer in the process, before I reached the final push below the grassy summit. My legs reached the jello-like feeling for the first time out here and, had Bill Cosby stuck a spoon in them, I would've been done. I powered on until I left the trees behind and only grass was ahead of me as I circled my way to the summit.I reached the summit with ~10 minutes to spare, and my legs grew week either from having just busted out the climb, or the view before me. I've seen sunsets through Mississippi pines, over the flat wheat fields of Kansas, through Indiana corn, behind city skylines while drinking a beer, but tonight was one of the best. I stood alone atop Big Bald, knowing I was the only one seeing the sunset from this particular spot. I don't have the words to describe how good I felt, nor will my eventually pictures due it justice, but the few minutes I had alone were special. It was a damn near perfect day.After standing atop the exposed bald for half an hour, it began to grow dark and the wind had me nearly frozen. I decided to head up the trail in order to find a place to camp outside of the wind. It took me longer than I'd hoped, for the north side of the mountain was too steep, causing me to continue up another bald a couple hundred vertical feet lower. As I neared the crest of the other bald, I turned back to see Toepick's silhouette atop Big Bald. I waved my headlamp in her direction to show her where I was going, and hope she'd follow me and understand I was trying to find a place sheltered from the wind. It'd take close to half a mile later, but I'd find us a nice spot out of the wind, the wind blowing over the small trees above us instead. While she stood atop Big Bald, seeing me waving my headlamp over a quarter-mile ahead of her, I'm sure she had a string of words together, but all I could hear over the howling wind was "Dumbass!" Well, it was almost a damn near perfect day at least.