Date: 2008-06-06
From: rock overhang

To: spring
Miles today: 13.9
Weather: few clouds

It is 2:15pm and I am seaching for the nearest cliff to hurl myself over. By far, the last few hourse have been the most difficult and tying of the entire hike (and my life). This is worse than Bly and Blood Mountain.Let me set the scene for those of you reading from your cushioned chairs in your house just steps away from clean and cold drinking water:I sit on a rock beside the trail. I have been climbing uphill for an hour and a half. In the beginning, the trail was straight up, narrow and bordered closely on both sides by stinging nettle (count yourself lucky if you've never been in this). No switchbacks, just straight uphill. And I do mean straight. For a long time. Then it was too steep and they had to have switchbacks. Now did I mention I had no water? Because the 4 "water" stops listed in the books before that had problems--one was dry, one was 700 feet downhill (and maybe dry?) and the other two were barely puddles. The steri pen will kill things in the water but in certainly doesn't make them disappear. (Doug and I classify the water as "floatie free" or "floatie full" This water was floatie FULL and then some.So I'm struggling up the mountain, my mouth dry as cotton, sweating and soaking wet. And I'm sure most of you don't realize, but this trail, this thing they call the AT, well it could be defined as THE MOST INDIRECT ROUTE FROM point A to point B. The way it twists and winds and brings you 10 feet from where you just were 15 minutes ago. Pathetic! So you're walking along, up and up and up, and you may think you reached the top, but it's not the top at all, just the top of that particular switchback.So I climb and climb and climb and round the bend and whooppeeee, more uphill. I am panting. Did I mention the flies?? There are like 200,000 of them, hovering in the treetops, just waiting for unsuspecting hikers like me to stop and pause to catch my breath. I know you think I'm exaggerating but I'm not! It was like that episode of CSI where the guy in the downstairs apartment starts seeing flies and more flies and more flies, and then discovers a dead body upstairs. Yikes. It was BAD.So in the moment I stop to catch my breath I can hardly hear anything above the buzzing flies, some already keying in that I have stopped long enough for them to load on. Onward I go. So finally two and a half hours later I reach the top. I'm soaking wet, there's no view and I am practically moving at mock speed to avoid the flies. I try to sit and write and rest, but oh, the flies send word out and are on me in an instant. So I head downhill, faster than I imagined I could. I am a flash in the forest. I'm running to escape the flies--I'll risk sprained ankles, twisted knees, falls, I must get past the hoard of buzzing flies! I'm a splash of red racing through the forest, moving so fast I thought my legs might fly free of their sockets. Down and down and down and then aughhhhhhh?? What's this?? More mountain up? Seems I wasn't at the top afterall. So back I go, up and up and up and up and up and up... And this time when I get to the top it is really the top. I go around a bend and there is a view and two freshly dressed tourists along with a parking lot. A bit discouraging. I camp alone. Do not make it to where Doug is. I eat a quick dinner, hang my bear bag and hit the sack exhausted. Hope tomorrow is better.