Date: 2018-03-12
From: Hawk Mountain

To: Gooch Mountain
Miles today: 8.4
Weather: broken clouds

My freezing caboose awoke to a snow and sleet covered tent. I banged on the sides to get the snow off while gathering the courage to break everything down in the freezing muddy mess outside. A trail maintainer stopped at the bear box with a group of new trail-runners, presumably in training, early in the morning just as I was beating the inside of the tent. So at least I woke up to cheers and applause.  I thought to myself, ¢My God, what¢s wrong with these people dressed up in parkas and out here with picks and shovels in the middle of the forest this early in the morning in near blizzard conditions!¢ And half of them were females at that... and cheerful! It¢s a strange world we live in folks.The trail maintainer said it would be a good day to zero down in my tent as temperatures were dropping rapidly and trail conditions were deteriorating. I told him I¢d think about it. Apparently nobody heeded his advice.Naturally I was the last out of camp that morning. My fingers froze to the point they had no feeling or dexterity which made it nearly impossible to pack my gear.  I donned my pack and wet gloves and off I went.The weather on the other side of the mountain was cold, but not nearly as snow covered.After a fer piece, I encountered a group of rather elderly day hikers going southbound.  They had no packs but were very friendly and appeared to be hiking with their elderly wives. They asked me were I was from and took my picture which will be posted on the Hiking South website, roll-call page.  A hearty bunch these ATers are!Up the trail I saw military vehicles flying about on a dirt road which confirmed that some sort of exercise was taking place. Had I missed something in the news the three days I¢d been gone?The sun came out in the afternoon which made for the trail¢s first enjoyable views, but it was a treacherous route up Sassafras Mountain. It was cold, but comparatively pleasant the rest of the way to Gooch Mountain, much of it a blurr.  I was offered a spot in the shelter¢s loft but declined remembering my bladder¢s preference for the nightlife. Climbing up and down a ladder in the black of night might not be the wisest choice for me.So I set up tent in a designated spot under a thicket of Laurel, and then cooked my noodles at the crowded shelter table. One hiker was painting a water-color portrait of Fuscia in a sketchbook she brought along. It was a perfect likeness.I had a good conversation with a 68 year old retired school teacher from Georgia who was also a coach. He had followed his daughter by car the previous year while she hiked the entirety of the trail. This time it was his turn, but his wife didn¢t want him to attempt the hike even though he appeared to be in incredible shape. It made me feel lucky to have a supportive wife. But then again, I don¢t know if she would be so supportive at age 68!There was a Trail Ambassador at camp that evening. He was a hearty older man in his seventies who smoked a pipe. His white beard, deep voice, and black knit cap reminded me of an old sailor. He was pleasant to talk to, and a wealth of information.I also spoke with Daddy Longlegs for a spell, and as the sky grew dim I priveyed and went to my tent shivering.  I actually had one bar on my cell phone and was able to speak to my trail boss and boss in general - my dear wife (Sugar Bear).  That was the first decent night¢s sleep I had on the trail... relatively speaking of course.