Date: 2012-05-19
From: Rocky Mountain Summit

To: Day 4
Miles today: 19.9

Tough day today. I got up early enough and tried to keep a pretty good pace. I got warmed up with a 1,000' descent down to Indian Grave Gap. I sat there and caught my breath and ate brunch with all of the dead Indians. Then I did another 1,000' climb up and over Tray Mountain. My heart was in the right place, but all of the rollercoastering north of Tray Mt. finally wore me down and I started to struggle a bit as I passed one gap after another: Wolfpen Gap, Steeltrap Gap, Sassafras Gap, Addis Gap, Dicks Creek Gap, another Sassafras Gap... they just keep on coming. And with each gap comes another change in direction; acceding and descending ascending and descending ascending and descending over and over. This state is never ever flat. The weather was a bit of an issue today too. It's been drizzling on and off pretty much since I started hiking but this was the first real rainstorm I've hit this year. One of those storms that there is no staying dry in. No sense in putting on rain gear because then you just start pouring sweat and instead take a steam-bath in your own juices. It situation like this it's a much better to just grit your teeth, accept the fact that taking a break is out of the question, and enjoy a free shower compliments of Mother Nature while you slay some muddy miles. And that's exactly what I did. When I got to Deer Gap Shelter I was already fairly miserable. I was soaked shivering, every single inch of my body was clammy and waterlogged. The sky was already dark from the rain clouds. I foresaw an uncomfortable couple of hours either struggling to stay warm and dry in the shelter or hiking on the cold wet trail. Again, I decided to flip a coin and let Physics decide. Again, Physics told me to hike another 8 miles.    So I did a really rough and muddy 4-mile descent down to Dicks Creek Gap and the road crossing that takes you to Hiawassee. The 'mountains' here in GA are really nothing more than dirt hills so when it rains the steep inclines of the trail quickly turn into flowing mud rivers. To the credit of the GATC, the trail crew is relentless about installing grade dips and waterbars to prevent erosion; but there is only so much that you can accomplish on the backs of volunteers. When I got to the Gap it was too cold and uncomfortable to even sit down at one of the picnic tables or take off my pack. I huddled under the roof of a little bulletin board and rolled the best cigarette that I could out of damp rolling papers/tobacco with pruny shivering hands. Sometimes the day's little victories (like successfully getting a cig rolled, a cherry lit, and smoke in your lungs in the middle of a rainstorm) make all the difference in the world when it comes to mental stamina and fortitude.    Then, out of the corner of my eye, I notice a dude crawl out of a rather well-disguised tent on the other side of the park. He was having one of those days too because he didn't even bother to try to put rain gear on; instead he just cracked a beer open and sat at a picnic table solemnly with a defeated air about him. I went over to make friends and share this moment of misery with someone. Who I found was an old man named Yogi Bear. His story is that he's a thru-hiker who just fell on some bad luck. He said that he had lost his wallet along with all of his money and identification. So he went into town and spent the last of his money on a bunch of beer and now he's sitting here trying to sell beers to other hikers to raise funds. At which point he offers to sell me beer for $3 a can. I'm not too keen on allowing myself to get taken advantage of by homeless people with phony sob-stories so, instead, I offer to get him stoned if he gets me drunk. Yogi Bear is much obliged. So I dropped my pack and sat down. We smoked a few bowls and drank a few beers and chatted for a while, oblivious to the rainstorm pouring down on us. Then he told me that a cute girl named Wilderness had passed by a couple of hours before heading to the next shelter. I sprung in to action and got ready to slay some more miles. Amazing how some booze, some weed, and the promise of sharing a shelter with a pretty girl can turn one's frown upside down.   I practically skipped the next 5 miles up to the Plumorchard Shelter and arrived just before dusk. There I found Wilderness and another thru-hiker named Daniel. Wilderness was very cute but also very Mormon so it was a friendzone-at-first-sight kinda situation with her. Daniel it seems is out here to do some serious miles. His pack is lighter than most and he's in fantastic shape already. Still, nether Diniel nor Wilderness could believe that I've been averaging 20-mile days since I started. It reminded me how I felt when I first started hiking last year. I didn't think I would ever be able to get up early and do big miles every day. We are all but a product of circumstance tho I guess. I dawned my PJs and slipped into my dry sleeping bag. It's days like this that make me thankful for the fact that my entire pack is waterproof. I proceeded to answer the others' relentless barrage of questions about long-distance-hiking for a while. "How often do you re-supply?" "How many calories do you eat per day?" "How do you dry your wet socks?" "What about bugs?" "What about blisters?" "You really smoke that much weed?" Eventually the sound of rain falling on the shelter roof lulled us off to sleep.