Date: 2003-03-02
From: Amicalola Falls

To: Springer Mountain Shelter
Miles today: 8.8
Weather: overcast clouds

Day 1We finally arrived in Gainesville, GA sometime around 7 in the morning on the 2nd of March. Deborah wasn't gonna start the trail today because she was gonna meet her father (I think) so she caught a cab to a hotel. We said our goodbyes and I thought to myself how it'd be nice to see my first trail friend again and that chances were that we would. I never saw deborah again and didn't hear anything about her until sometime after Newfound Gap, NC when I noticed some of her register entries. She apparently had passed me during a 4 day layover at Newfound Gap that I'll explain later.So here i am at the Gainesville station waiting for Jayson and his buddy. Jayson is someone I met on trailplace.com who had in turn hooked up with this buddy (sorry, I forgot his name) online as well. This buddy was our first trail angel and he was gonna be giving us a ride to the trailhead, which we decided was gonna be Amicalola Falls. I didn't wait long at the station and soon I got to place a face on Jayson, whom i had been exchanging emails with for a few weeks, as well as the buddy. I threw my pack in the car and we headed out towards the Waffle House, a recommendation made by buddy because as he explained it'd probably be a while, or maybe never, till we had another real breakfast. I wasn't really hungry, but i figured it'd probably be a good idea at least to allow the "reality of things" to sink in a little. So we ate, talked and were back on the road in no time, my reality not having achieved anymore sinkage.Buddy was a nice guy that lived around the Gainesville area with a family, career and all. During our ride the discussion naturally veered to why we were hiking the trail and in turn why he was a trail angel and this is where I first heard what I soon found out to be a recurring theme among trail angels: Buddy did what he did because he couldn't do what we were about to do. He in a sense experienced the trail "through proxy," as he put it.Anyway, we arrived at Amicalola, unloaded our extremely heavy packs (Jayson also hadn't learned the ways yet), got some water, signed in, I bought a bandana and we headed out back to the beginning of the trail to take some photos. That's when everything became quite real. Here I was looking at a small stone archway that I had previously only seen in photos from the comfort of my home and now was seeing it with my own eyes in the cool of an overcast March morning in the midst of barren trees and a crisp, clean winter air. Well, that's when it hit me, I got a little nervous, but i think more than anything I was probably just a little antsy. I wanted to get on the trail and start walking. Buddy asked us if we were okay and humerously added that this was our last chance to turn back. Jayson and I assured him that we were alright so we took photos, hugged, said our goodbyes and started walking.I walked with Jayson for about an hour or so, but he was moving a little slow and I just wanted to go so I told him that I'd see him that night at the shelter and I kept on. I never saw Jayson again. I never even found out what happened to him until just a couple of weeks ago after getting back home. I found his email and wrote him. He explained to me that that night his stove gave up on him and he decided to turn back and leave it for another year. He plans on kicking ass in '04.Back to the hike. What I can remember about the Approach Trail was that it was difficult. It wasn't terribly difficult as far as the terrain went, but it was my first time backpacking and I had a fairly heavy pack. The difficulty, however, is what I least remember about the Approach. What I remember most was that great awe and happiness that overcame me. Cheezy or not, but here I was in the middle of the woods all by myself with mountains all around me. I remember I kept looking over my shoulder only to be repeatedly surprised and awed by the slopes and ridges everywhere around me and the truly genuine smile that would overcome me as a result. It was gorgeous, it was surreal. I was finally there. All the weeks imagining what it'd be like were being answered. Yes, it had been worth it.So I kept walking, having no clue about how far I'd already walked and how much further I had to go. what i did know, however, is that I would make it to Springer Mountain and the shelter at some point. I was confident of that or at least I was hoping that I wasn't delusional and could make it that far. Well, I did make it to the top of Springer and I made it right at dusk. I was pretty tired at that point and wasn't much smiles, but I was happy that my day had finally ended and I could sleep. On top of Springer I met a few guys whose names I got but wouldn't have been able to recite them back 30 seconds later. As it turned out these guys I soon came to know as Lion Cub, Pathfinder and Gung-Ho Rider, collectively known as the "Yellow Submarine." I became good friends with these guys a few days when I next saw them. Together we all walked to the shelter and there the guys decided that they were gonna push on a little further. so they got some water and were off. Myself, on the other hand, had no intentions of doing anything else but laying out my pad, slipping into my bag and possibly dying.I slipped into the already darkening shelter and saw two figures, one on each side of the shelter. One looked to be out cold and the other seemed to have yet some life to him. This was Grunt as he would later be known. I think Grunt was from Alabama. A fairly tall guy who looked like he could kick some ass on the trail, as i would find out the next morning. Anyway, I decided that in lieu of a dinner a cigarette would take care of all my nutritional needs. Besides, it's so quick to get ready so the convenience was really appealing. I whipped one out and starting shooting the sh%t with Grunt. After a short while I brushed my teeth (i think?) and went to bed. It was probably the coldest night that I had on the trail. The wind never stopped that night. I thought I was in a wind tunnel the way it howled and stabbed every inch of my body and I being a newcomer to the game managed to position myself in the shelter in the not so ideal place of smack-center, so i was getting the full wrath of the wind's loving care.I barely slept that night, but it really didn't bother me. I hadn't slept in two days so what's another added to the tally. I was running on something else baby. Call it freedom or call it the sense of adventure of going into something completely foreign. I was finally there and I hoped, positively prayed that tomorrow would be a better day .