Date: 2004-03-06
From: Springer

To: Gooch Mountain Shelter
Miles today: 14.7
Weather: broken clouds

A recap: My departure from NYC, having been crammed into my last 24 hours in the city, went by in a slow-motion fog. The rest of my belongings were crammed into my rental SUV. Julie and I bid our stomach turning farewells. It wasn¢t difficult to notice the signs that night; signs that were letting me [know] I had made the right choice. In the tr©s gay West Village, I saw a man wearing an AT t-shirt. And I saw, for a final time, a homeless person whom I¢ve seen before. When I first come to NYC, I had a job on Wall Street. Arriving at the World Trade Center subway station, this woman would be standing outside. I saw her everyday. On holidays or the day before, she would be wearing a pumpkin hat, or a Santa hat or Easter Bunny ears. When the Yankees won the World Series, she waved a pennant. I didn¢t see her again after I quit that job until a week after 9/11. I saw her among all the memorials in Union Square. I talked to her and found out that, although already homeless, she had once again been displaced. I gave her some money and right before she turned to leave, she hugged me and began to cry. On my last night in NYC, I saw her again. I took it as a sign from the Universe, a gift: I didn¢t have to take measures to close this circle ¢ the gods did it for me. I spent one last night on the floor of the upper east side, leaky apartment. 4:30 am came, and as a last send-off gift, a spider had bitten me several times around my face. That¢s what I get for sleeping on the floor of an NYC apartment.After exiting the Lincoln tunnel in New Jersey, I looked at one last view of the skyline, smashing almost 5 years of recollections into a 10 second trip down Memory Lane.An uneventful road trip to Charlotte allowed an adequate amount of time to gently close a door, while opening another. With each mile on the odometer the door opened a little more widely.(March 5th)The drive to Atlanta was quick, and easily found the rail system at the airport. Was picked up by Leigh from the hostel. Drove the 45 miles back to the hostel accompanied by Stonedust. Tonight at the hostel is Nuffy, C-Giddy, Pa Kettle and Bulldog. Several are slack-packing, and I¢m the only one starting on Springer tomorrow. Ross came through the hostel a day ago, so I¢m hoping to catch him in a couple of weeks.One thing I noticed while driving to the hostel were the road signs of towns and places I¢ve read about, never seen. No longer do I only read about them in guidebooks or in other people¢s journals. Now it¢s real, now I¢m passing through these places. It¢s like actually going to Munchkinland, or passing through Atlantis, or really feeling you way through the Wardrobe and taking your first step in Narnia. My life right now continues to swell my heart.Finally. Finally. Finally I can stop thinking about the whole adventure. Trying to wrap my whole mind around the entire trip. Now all I have left to do is take the first step and simply make it to the end of the day. Tomorrow.Already here at the Hiker¢s Hostel the gear talk and advice passed from one hiker to another has started. Fun to watch, good to hear, interesting to pick and choose what to listen to, and what to chalk up to BIG Talk.(March 6th)Got the shuttle to the parking lot on Road #42. Did a quick .9 hike up to the top. Seemed to stumble onto the plaque. Took a pic, signed my first register, picked up a Springer Stone and was off. The first bit of trail was fairly easy. I passed SHOT and BUCHANAN, and some section hikers. Right away twisted my bad ankle ¢ thank the Universe for hiking poles! Seemed to be okay. Ups, downs, and arounds. Kept a good pace in hopes of making it to Gooch Gap Shelter. Stopped at Hawk Mountain Shelter to take care of some hot spots on my feet and talked to MALA. Since I didn¢t start on top of Springer until noon, I was going to be hard pressed to make it to Gooch by dark. Sassafrass kicked my ass a little. But I managed to stroll into Gooch right at dusk. Lots of people here tonight, so I put up my tent, had some chow, and watched the full moon rise up over the mountain ¢ simply glorious.Thought: The transition from novelty to reality comes with a sore back.Thought: Picking a trail name and telling people back home what it was, is fun. Introducing yourself with your trail name while on the trail is weird.Thought: Ups and downs are both geographical AND mental.Songs sung in my head today:¢LOVE IS ALIVE¢¢THE OLD RED HILLS OF HOME¢¢OH MY FEET¢¢EVERY ROSE HAS ITS THORN¢¢DANCING QUEEN¢I¢m sore, really sore. Tired. Sore, happy. And sore. And happy.        Question: How does one measure immeasurable happiness?