Date: 2005-04-01
From: NOC

To: Fontana
Miles today: 1.5
Weather: moderate rain

4.1.05Day 192:50pm Call me a wuss. Call me a pansy. Call me smart. Call me silly. I'm still at Fontana. I didn't zero though. I want to clarify that right now. I walked a whopping 1.5 miles. Very, very taxing. I was headed out this morning, w/ every intention of hiking a solid 12 miles, and posibly catching up w/ Cuppa Joe and Break tonight at Brown Fork Gap Shelter. But then, the weather report called for heavy rainstorms and severe thundershowers. And the Weather Channel (which is the prime viewing station of thru-hikers) had a big red box around this area for tonight's forecast. Now, I'm not entirely sure what exactly the big red box denotes, but red isn't typically associated w/ sunny skies in the meteorological world. So, it was kinda drizzling this morning, but I resolutely packed my pack, and my monstrously enormous foodbag (it's a solid lead weight; must be at least 12#. At least.), and got in the shutle. Then, Red Hat, Rocky, and Hareball start talking, about how they're only doing the mile and change down to the dam, and the awful weather. Yada, yada, yada. Pretty soon, the town vortex has sucked me in. And so, here I sit...7:15pm Dinner has just ended, and I haven't managed to complete one single errand I had intended to. Not a one. Pretty sad state of affairs, no? My clothes are still permeated w/ hiker funk. (But really, what's the point? They're just gonna stink tomorrow, after 30 minutes on the trail.) My postcards are unwritten (and thus ading weight to my already over-laden pack). My journal is not updated. I've met so many terrific folks in the past 2 days, and I haven't gotten around to writing about them. My friends have not been e-mailed. I've just been a complete town bum, and somehow the day was whittled away. But, it's been an "excellent-good" day, as Half Mon always said last year. Even if I'm slightly pissed that the weather turned out to be actually not so bad today, and it wouldn't have been completely wretched to have hiked. But, no regrets about hanging out here. Just chillin' and chattin'. Creaky Bonze crept in to the hotel while I was in the lobby (attempting to) write my journal. She hobbled in w/ a painful hip, grabbing a ride from Stecoah Gap. And, she was able to pass the word on to me that CJ and Break left NOC this morning -- the At hotline in high gear. Speaking of trail gossip and the transfer of info, when I walked over to the restaurant this morning for the breakfast buffet, I joined Red Hat and Double Healer and Raz. And Red Hat says to me:"Oh, by the way, Hareball has your missing sandal."I pause, befuddled, then look at my feet in puzzlement. Nope, two sandals, still there, safely ensconced on my feet. My next thought was: "Ha ha. Very funny. April Fool's joke. B/c last year, I had lost one of my sandals, while in the Smokies. It was strapped on the outside of my pack, and somehow slipped off. I realized this, oh, 5 miles (all downhill) from Clingman's Dome, and thought: "There's no way in hell I'm going back for a stupid sandal." So, I tacked a note on the next signpost, asking whoever picked it up (b/c I knew someone would) to leave it at Newfound Gap for me, since I would be staying overnight in Gatlinburg. The next morning, as I suffered from sensory overload on the streets of Gatlin-Vegas, every single hiker I encountered said to me:"Hey, I saw your sandal. It's sitting at Newfound Gap, w/ a note on it." Every. Single. Hiker. So, when Red Hat said that to me today, I had flashbacks to that day in Gatlinburg. But no, she was serious. I pointed out the fact that my feet were currently sporting a complete pair of sandals. (And, while I may carry multple books, 2 pairs of sandals is overkill, even for me.) So, somebody is missing a Chaco, but it ain't me. Thank you, though, to Skylark, for toting it for so long b/c you thought it mine. If it was, I'd have been eternally grateful. I hope it finds its owner soon.Well, even though I just bemoaned the fact that I was behind in this jornal, I'm going to have to sign off. I really want to get some postcards written. And some e-mails. And a million other things. And hiker's midnight is fast approaching. Ack.