Date: 2011-04-13
From: Fontana Village Resort

To: Spence Field Shelter
Miles today: 17.9
Weather: overcast clouds

(In which I enter the Smokies and cook my first hot meal)The Smokies, my first national park on the trail. Since I've been hiking through similar, if not quite as extreme, terrain, the expected primary difference is one of increased regulations and bureaucracy. Hikers are supposed to submit a plan ahead of time with the locations and dates of each shelter ($500 fine if you're caught without it), weekend hikers are supposedly given priority in the shelters, and camping, apart from directly beside full shelters, is prohibited.Since I never know where I'm going to stop until I get there, mine will likely be an itinerary poorly correlated with reality, but even creating a plausible fiction is a chore, requiring closer studying of the guidebook than I've done thus far. After fifteen minutes of staring at maps I shrug and scrawl "thru-hiker" in place of an itinerary, as some have reportedly done before.* * *My permit passes muster with the amicable ranger at the park entrance and then I am in Great Smoky Mountains National Park, where a sign reminds hikers that firearms are prohibited.The first destination is the fire tower atop Mt. Shustack, which comes into view shortly after entering the park but takes a bit of a climb to reach. On my way up the steady climb I pass Coach and Big Ben, two homeschooled teenage boys I have heard about since early in my hike. Coach, the older of the two at about 17, subscribes to the "leave a trace" philosophy, and I have seen his name written on every shelter and bathroom stall I've come across so far ("Coach '11", lest it accidentally be attributed to another Coach).Most hikers I see opt to skip the fire tower, some 0.1 miles off trail, but for me hiking all this way and skipping the views would be like skipping desert to make sure you have more time to do the dishes. The tower itself is old and rickety, constructed of rusting metal and rotting wood. At the top is an enclosed viewing platform with broken windows, a partially collapsed roof and rotting floor, along with one of the best views I've ever seen. It is instantly one of my favorite places on the AT. In the tower I eat my largest lunch yet. While my appetite has not quite kicked in yet, I've discovered that if I simply keep eating after I would normally stop, food still tastes good for longer than it used to, and I know that I need the calories. I stay up in the tower for well over an hour, stuffing myself and admiring the view.After the initial climb to the tower, the terrain becomes gentle, and soon the woods are covered with tiny white flowers. The flowers look almost like snow, blanketing the forest floor as far as the eye can see, and walking through them feels like walking into spring itself. The air is warm with a soft breeze, and after yesterday's cold rain, I am struck by how enjoyable walking in the sun can be.One of the most pleasant feelings on the trail, which sometimes comes when you are not hungry or tired or hot or thirsty, and when the terrain and weather are not too extreme, is that of effortless hiking. When the conditions are just right, the trail seems to flow beneath you, and all you have to do is relax and watch the scenery and let it flow past. I find my rhythm hiking through the flowers and, fueled by my oversized lunch, decide to pass two potential shelters. I monitor my knee, which seems to be holding up just fine, and it seems a shame to end this wonderful hiking experience while there is still so much light left.My knee and the rest of me still feel good when I finally reach the third shelter, 20 minutes or so before sunset. While the last two shelters have been packed, this one, not conveniently located for an average length day, has only two hikers in it, both sound asleep. I've never seen a shelter put to bed before sunset before, but I do my best not to make too much noise as I unpack my sleeping bag and set up a spot in the shelter while it is still light out. I take my food up the hill to eat, but I notice that the shelter's fireplace (the first I've seen -- I'm starting to like the Smokies) is still burning.I still have a few tortillas and slices of cheese left and I want to eat them while the cheese is still good. (Though cheese can last a surprising number of days in your pack, this number rapidly diminishes as the weather gets hotter.) I see a small shovel next to the fire and inspiration strikes. As quietly as I can, a few feet next to the sleeping hikers, I place a tortilla with cheese inside on the shovel and hold it over the fire. When it seems done I carry it and the shovel up the hill and have the best dinner I've had so far.Tired and full and happy, I hang my bear bag and go in the shelter to join the sleeping hikers.