Becoming a SOBO.

 

 The little township of Monson, (Moonson as a local told me it was pronounced) has the Shaw’s Hiker Hostel, a small ice cream parlor, a general store that will sell deli style meals, an Art Gallery, a BBQ place, Post Office, a lodge and pub, a fine dining establishment, a gift shop, a convenience store, and the Appalachian Trail Visitor Center.  It’s here that the SOBO’s who start with Katahdin first can register with the ATC.    

Wednesday 6/29 Monson ME

I woke up on Wednesday at about 0445 and enjoyed some quiet time.  No one was snoring in the bunkhouse.  Breakfast was a 0700 and consisted of 3 eggs, 3 strips of bacon, home fries, orange juice, coffee, and all the blueberry pancakes one can eat.  Poet himself was the breakfast chef.  I felt stuffed.

We were shuttled in a Nissan NV 3500 van to the trailhead on ME RT 15.  I sat in front and told Poet about my experiences with the NV vans and what battlewagons they were.  He seemed pleased that the van had the capability to perform beyond normal expectations.  At the trailhead Poet gave everyone some words of wisdom before they started their journey northward into the 100 mile wilderness.  A course, I  was heading south.  

This section of trail was a relatively new section since the ATC decided to bypass the town of Monson and not have the trail run thru town anymore.  There were plenty of white blazes for the NOBOs but were curiously lacking for the SOBOs.  About three time within the first mile I realized that I wasn’t on the trail and had to use the Far Out app to find the trail again.  Then I discovered  to start looking behind me to see where the blazes were.  The blazes always face the way the trail went.

About two miles down the trail I remember one very important detail that I forgot to attend to at Shaw’s; settling of my tab.

¡Ay, caramba!  I’m not going to stiff those nice folks.  I made a note on my phone that when I got to Caratuck to arrange to get my bill settled. 

I kept heading southward.

Then I got to a snowmobile trail that had a sign that pointed to Monson 2 miles.  I thought, “two miles in and two miles out; not so bad and I’ll remember better next time!”  So, I headed back toward Monson.  

About 0.3 miles I came to a dirt road and the sign pointing off to Monson. This road basically skirted the north side of Lake Hebron back into town.  About halfway there the road became paved.  As soon as I made “town” I was again at Shaw’s.

I walked into the Emporium and Hippy Girl was manning the counter; Poet was out.  I told her that I forgot to pay my tab and she said that they weren’t worried; I didn’t seem like the type to skip out.  I got settled and made a spur of the moment decision.  I booked another night in the bunk room.  

But no breakfast.

I spent a quiet day watching old VHS tapes on a flat screen TV.  Superman II’s special effect mapping was obvious on that flat screen.  It was fun to watch.

Later Poet returned from doing a long distance shuttle.  He saw me and held out his hands like “What happen?”.  I told him it was his fault and he did this to get me to say another night.  He said, “I knew you weren’t going to stiff us.  You tried to pay yesterday as you checked in.”  He said he’d get me out to the trail in the morning and I said not to worry about it.  The walk was only two miles and mostly down hill.  I asked him if that route I took was the old trail and he confirmed it was.

I had dinner from the convenience store and then went to bed.

THURSDAY 6/30 Horseshoe Canyon Lean~to. (123.5)

I was up by 0500 but the bed I had didn’t have an outlet to charge my phone and I didn’t want to leave until it was charged.  Got my gear and went downstairs into the common room and plugged my phone in to charge.  Poet came in about 0600 and got coffee ready then started in on his chef duties.  I drunk a cup and said my farewells and I was off.

I quickly made the trail and I was southbound again.  The mosquitoes acted like they had never dined on a southerner before and they all wanted to take part in such a rare culinary delight.  I put the net over my head and applied DEET to my arms and legs.  

I believe that only excited the little bloodsuckers even more.

I had to ford the east branch of the Piscataquis River, the water only came up to my knees.  About a mile later I had a slip and fell onto my right knee on a rock.  

No break but there was some soreness.

I made it to the Horseshoe Canyon Leanto and discovered that I was going to have the shelter to myself.  Another hiker was there but he was hammock camping.

I basically busied myself with getting my bed made and preparing dinner.

I was asleep by hiker’s midnight.

FRIDAY 7/1 Tentsite (127.5)

I awoke early but I wasn’t into getting started and kinda just milled around the shelter.  The other hiker who slept in his hammock finally came to the shelter.  He had hurt his ankle and was taking it slow himself.  I took a look at it and the ankle didn’t look too bad which was good.  So many of these hikers will injure their feets and keep trying to push on until their injury forces them to quit.  This “Ankle”  was being smart.

I was finally on my way by 1030 and at Rocky Beach (125.4) I filtered some water and took a break.  “Ankle” passed me there. 

In a little while I was fording the West Branch Piscataquip River.  It was a two part process but as long as I was careful about my steps I made it.  Then I got to Marble Brook.  Another stream that was actually hiding a bog.  But then after successfully navigating it I came to a quagmire that was generally a bog itself.  I learned this when I stepped in the wrong spot and sunk up to my knee.  Moving around only made me sink lower.  I started to get a little worried.  I used my staff to my advantage and was able to slowly pull myself up until I was free.  And I didn’t lose a shoe in the process.

In only a couple of miles I made a campsite and pitched my cowboy outfit.  I made dinner and realized that the general funk I have been feeling is that I have reach a burn out process. I was surprised that it had taken this long.  But I was ready for this whole thingy to be done with and I could go home.

Home will happen but not yet.

SATURDAY 7/2 Bald Mtn Pond Shelter (132.4)

It did rain right before dark.  I had set up the 8x10 tarp up and kept fairly dry.  The mosquitoes finally calmed down a little after dark and I was able to sleep.  

The rains returned right at dawn (0430) and continued until 0900.I was able to keep relatively dry but not as dry as I like.  I made the decision to buck up and get a tent.

I drank my last swallow of filtered water as I was readying my pack.  The “horse hoofs” water sources didn’t look too inviting.  I tend to like my water sources to flow.  Soon I found a spot by the river at mile 129.8 where it was easy to access the stream.  Well, easy to access the stream and be able to get back out.  I filled up both of my bottles, drank my fill, ate breakfast, and charged my phone.

Within 2 ½ miles I was at the next shelter, but it took me until 1700.  Talk about snail pace!  This shelter was situated on Bald Mountain Pond and the “pond” (more lake to me) was in clear sight of the shelter.  Another hiker was there and he was finishing up a swim in the “pond”.  He was moving onward.

I set up my cowboy pallet in the shelter with my head at the front of the platform, rigged up the mosquito net then set about exploring.  This was a very nice area with some beach front and several good tent sites all around.

Another hiker showed up and inquired if I knew where the tent sites were.  I pointed him towards the beach.  He was pleased with it.

As I was making dinner more hikers showed up and beelined it to the beach.  Soon there were about ten tents and hammocks set up there. No one wanted to stay in the shelter because of mice.   Something I have learned though is to see if it looks like chipmunks are at the shelter.  If there are signs of chipmunks then there aren’t mice or rats.  Seems the chipmunks tends to want the spruce up their neighborhood and they get busy moving the riff-raff out.  

When I went to bed is when I realized that the platform slanted towards the front instead of towards the rear.  Good, it will benefit my feet to have them higher that my heart.

SUNDAY 7/3 Bald Mtn Brook Lean~to (136.2)

Again it wasn’t until about 0930 before I could get started.  

But from the “pond” I started climbing, an easy climb - at first.

As the climb got progressively steeper there was a point where I had to drop my pack and hoist it up above me and then climb up after it.

I got to the cut off for North Bald Mtn Peek and had a spectacular view but since the trail to the north peak was a side trail of over a mile I decided not to go there.  I continued on the AT. The descent was slow with trying to navigate a rock garden for about a mile but I noticed that being in the mountains again was lifting my mood.

Off the mountain and nearing the shelter I had to cross a logging road.  There off the road and the trail set to motorbikes.  One was a V-Strom.  

I admired it for a few minutes and realized how much I MISS MY RIDE!  I moved on.

At the shelter there was a couple who I had run into on the north side of Bald Mtn.  They tried to be talkative but I wasn’t in the mood.  I prepared my dinner, ate and as the food was digesting I became talkative.  The couple had a tent and they had already retired for the night.

MONDAY 7/4 Pleasant Pond Lean~to (145.5) Independence Day.

It was near 1030 before I started but I was determined to make the next shelter before dark.  I forced myself into a marching cadence and kept from frequent breaks like I’ve been doing.  I ford Moxie pond and then walked down that dirt road to where the trail took back to the woods.  I was passed by a couple of trucks on this road and waved at them and did a quick look inside the cabs as they passed; I swear to gawd they all looked like rednecks!  Up here in Maine?  Who’da thunk?!?

Right where the trail takes back to the woods I notice a small dock on the pond with a ladder.  It was set up for the hikers, or anyone else, to swim.  I wasn’t going to lollygag; I had to keep going.

So, it was under the power lines and through the woods to Pleasant Mountain I go!  (That sound like a Christmas carol) But! Pleasant Mountain was anything but pleasant.  By now I realize that the trail makers in Maine was as clueless as the trail makers in Georgia as to what a switchback was.  The climb was taxing but the view at the top was great.  It wasn’t panoramic, one had to move to different area of the summit to change view but it was still almost worth the effort.

I did notice one thing towards the west.  The sun was sinking.  I still had a mile to descend.  Time to get crackin’.

Long story short I had about a half mile of mountain to descend while using my headlamp in the dark on a trail that went almost straight down.

I made it without kilting myself.

I made the shelter and found that for once there were two other hikers sleeping on the platform.  One on one side and the other on the other side.  That left me with the middle.  I soon got my bedroll out and set up.  Didn’t bother about the skeeter net, ate a cliff bar for dinner then went to sleep.  This was about 1100.

TUESDAY 7/5 Caratuck ME (151.2)

The other two were up and packing around 0500 and being none too quiet about it.  I finally dragged myself out by 0700.  My legs were aching.  The couple from Bald Mountain was there and packing up their tent.  I noticed she was limping.

I gathered up some water and while it was filtering I walked down to this “pond”.  There was a dock and I walked out on it.  A NOBO was there relaxing and we chatted for a while.  I knotice how clear the water was.   It was beautiful.  

When I returned from the “pond” I went to the privy.  It was a large one with a porch.  All fancy-smancy.

Again with a 0930 start but Caratuck was only about 5 miles away.  I was going to get into a “town” which brightened my mood considerably. 

I was bebopping down this relatively flat easy trail with my mind on the creature comforts that a “town” offers when a Huron used its root to reachout and wrap itself around my right ankle, snatched me up in the air and then started slapping me back and forth into the ground like The Hulk did Loki in Ragnarok.  I was lucky it was only soft loam here but I still had to deal with epistaxis.  It wasn’t a great flow so I was able to stanch it in no time.  

I traveled on and but I kept myself a little more aware of my surroundings.  Soon the trail turned from the stream it had been following and climbed a hill.

A Samuel L. Jackson phase type of hill.  Straight up type of hill.  A hill that could have benefited with a switchback or two type of hill.  

A “I’m not in the mood for this” type of hill.

But the hill made up for its unpleasant north side with a gentle descent on the south side.

While in this area I ran into a couple of NOBO who had purple patches.  I asked them about those patches and it was from last year when they had started.  I congratulated them on their accomplishments and gave them a heads up on what to expect coming up then we headed our separate ways.

Soon I was healing highway sounds and started to get excited but not so excited as to not keep my eyes peeled for malicious Hurons.  I broke woods at a parking lot and walked down to the highway.  The Sterling Inn was about a mile ¼ south.  I had no phone signal so I started walking.  

It didn’t take me long to make the inn.  I was able to get a bunk and after a quick shower I took the shuttle to The Forks Kennebec Brew pub to get dinner.

The couple from Bald Mtn was there and they were staying at the inn too.

She was still limping.

The Yellow Blaze Tour

 I’ll give ya’ll an update: Monday a week ago while tramping over the Little Bigelow and partaking of some wonderful vistas I inadvertently injured my plantar on my left foot. The AT in Maine is no joke. One is continually hiking on a bed of rocks and roots, and I don’t mean wimpy little roots. These roots will wrap around one’s ankle, snatch one straight up in the air and slap one to the ground back and forth like the Hulk did Loki in Ragnarok. Another delightfully little fun fact is the trail makers are clueless as to what a switchback is. So one is going straight up these mountains and straight down again. It’s helpful if one has mountain goat genes. 

My injury was the result of landing on a root with just a little too much ft/lbs pressure at a not optimal spot on my left foot. 

I was able to come back down the Safford Brook Trail back to Flagstaff Lake. There I caught a ride into Kingfield, and after a light lunch of town food I “yellow blaze” north to Stratton. A motel friendly to hikers there allowed me three night in a bunkhouse to recoup at half the price. 

My foot does well on flat surfaces but good luck getting flat surfaces on the AT. 

After three days at the Motel, I decided that my best option would be to move southwards and to do it yellow blazing. For those that are mystified with that term; yellow blazing is when a hiker hitchhikes on roads (the yellow center line is the “blaze”). I’ll visit each trail town as I head "southward" and upon my return in a couple of years I’ll know what to expect at each stop. 

So far I've gone to Rangeley, and stayed at the Hiker’s Hut, an off the grid place where hikers can shower, rest up and resupply. Sunday I made it to Andover to Pine Ellis hostel. It was here that I saw my first moose. I had sat up Sunday night and spotted it strolling down the street. The night lighting made gaining photo evidence next to impossible and I’ve been warned about startling a moose with a flash. 

Monday I made my way to Bethel and was going to stay at the Chapman Inn, which has a hikers bunkhouse, but alas the Inn has changed ownership and is in the process of renovation. I found a room at the Sudbury Inn just a small way down the street, (whereas this is a bigger town than the others I been in since leaving Bangor, everything here is just a small way down the street) that I felt was reasonable, (Maine must imposes a high tax on these hotels because until here all rooms I have price tended to be over a hundred a night. This one was under a hundred with a made to order breakfast to boot). 

Tomorrow I’m going to Gorham NH and I may ride the train up to the top of Mount Washington. Mount Washington is known for it's extreme weather conditions so getting it under my belt while the weather is cooperating is a plus. From there I’m going to yellow blaze it until next Monday before I try the trail again.  More than likely I'll be in Vermont by then and if my foot does well then I’ll be White Blazing it again. If not then I’ll return to yellow blazing.

Just wait until I start blogging about the deli and pub blazing.

Monson or bust.

 After a seventeen day gig as the Hostel Night Manager it was time to move on. Reboot, the manager I temporarily replace while she did a SOBO, returned early. Seems that starting a SOBO in June is not optimal. Her descriptions of the black-biting-flies-from-hell and the nuclear mosquitoes that will slather themselves with DEET to attract their mate along with the Piranha Gnats that will rip the flesh of a person from their bones and leave only the skeleton remain in under a minutes plus a myriad of other Man devouring half starved insects one meets every single step of the way in the 100 Mile Wilderness was vivid enough to make a lot of us thru hikers reevaluate our life choices. 

Also the bubble had already passed and it was pretty dead around Hot Springs. I ended leaving about a week early. 

On Friday morning Gabe, with his sidekick rat bootie (ratatouille) took me into Asheville to the airport by way of Marshall NC. Marshall woulda been a better trail town than Hot Springs. Not that Hot Springs wasn’t nice but Marshall had a lot more amenities to offer but it also would have made the rambling indirect path of the trail just that much longer.   

At the regional airport I found the United Airlines ticket counter to check my mummy bag in. The scales said it weighs 33 lbs. I’ll have to shake down the pack in Bangor again. 

Then it was time to deal with those lovely folks that are the TSA.  This group was especially grumpy this morning.  Most of the TSAs I’ve gone through wants to see ID and the flight ticket.  This one only wanted to see ID and was getting pretty perturbed that folks were trying to hand him their tickets  

Then when loading my paraphernalia into the bins to go through X-ray another agent asked me if I had emptied all my pockets and taken off watches and jewelry. I patted myself down again and said I got it all.  She gave me a peculiar look.  Since the line was backing up a group of us were able to go through the old metal detector portal.  After I retrieved my bin I realized why I got the peculiar look; I was still wearing my medical ID.  There isn’t enough metal on it to set off the metal detector but I could have gotten harassed for it in the X-ray viewer.

United sent me a text the evening before that my flight would leave from Gate 3.  With only six gates it was easy to find.  After a few minutes I got another text from United saying my gate was now Gate 5.  Very easy to find as I relocate.  A few more moments and another text informing me that the gate was now Gate 4.  

United wants its passengers to be very aerobic by the time we board. I sat at Gate 5 until they called boarding then I moved to Gate 4.  I don’t think I needed the additional exercise this morning  

I boarded and was impressed. The seats had adequate leg room and with the lost of thirty pounds I didn’t have to grease myself to slide between the armrest to sit. 

Soon we were airborne and heading to Newark.  A pleasant flight with the usual amenities of refreshments we soon landed.  Then started taxiing towards our gate. But wait!  Where is our gate?!?  We spent maybe 45 minutes going from one area to another looking for a gate.  Finally we sat still for a half an hour waiting.  Then a gate opened and our pilot slammed us into it because he was beating out three other planes heading to the same gate. 

After I disembarked I now was going to experience Newark Liberty International Airport.  

Hav’ercy!  The only way I can adequately describe the Newark Liberty experience would be in a therapist office and using dolls.  I’ve seen better airport in third world countries.  I may never be the same again.

But soon I was heading towards Bangor.  A short flight but I shared my seat with a resigned naval officer who was a submariner.  Most of the anecdote we shared usually started with the phrase, “This ain’t no sh*t…”

When we landed at Bangor, from my advantage point on the right side of the plane, I couldn’t see the terminal. For a moment I thought we where going to have to cross the tarmac to get in but Bangor isn’t that primitive;  even with only having five gates.

I gathered my mummy pack and proceeded to unwrap it

I then tried the Uber app to see if I could get a ride to the Hotel.  The app informed me that this was a busy time and the 3 mile trip would cost $40.  I proceeded to tell that app what type of colitis it could have with itself  The app was not impressed.

So, that’s how I ended up doing walking tours of Bangor.  My first leg was the three mile walk out of the airport and to the hotel.  This hotel wasn’t situated near very many eateries and when I got there it was near dark.  I ended up ordering Papa John’s for delivery.

The next day I was out and headed towards the nearest outfitter in Bangor.  I was directed by the Galen Cole Family Land Transportation Museum but I had forgotten to bring my camera.  Well, there’s always tomorrow.  Beside the museum was a greenway that ran underneath the interstate and through a Golf Course to a major throughway to the down town area.  I got to walk through a residential area and it was pleasant to see the different architectural designs. 

I made the outfitter and got a couple of fuel cells with some Cliff Bars   for snacks on the trail.  After my purchases I checked out the Downtown area. There was a Gay Pride Celebration happening in the area and I walked around and checked out some of the vendors there: Interesting  

My route back to the hotel was different from the one I came and I went by the casino.  No I didn’t go in; if I’m too cheep to get an Uber then I’m definitely too cheep for a casino.

After I came back from dinner and was resting at the hotel I notice where one of my cousins asked me, on farcebook, if I found Stephen King’s house.  I had totally forgotten he lived in Bangor.  

I did a quick Google search to see how far out he lived and realized I basically passed by his house on the way to the outfitter today.  A visit was on the itinerary for tomorrow. 

The next day I packed and was moving by 1100. I basically retraced my route from yesterday to the outfitter but this time I was armed with my camera and the first stop was that museum. There was various interesting displays from old train, cars, buses, farm equipment, snow plows, ect…

There was even a 1980 red Mercedes’ Benz 300 D on display. Go figure, I use to own something that was worthy of being a museum piece. 

I continued on my way and soon came upon The King’s residence.  No mistaking it. The way the cars were roaring up and folks hoping out snapping pictures I knew I had arrived. 

 

That’s Pennywise waving from the front porch.  

About an hour later I was lunching at the Wendy’s next to the bus terminal. I had to wait a few hours for the bus that went to Medway ME. A short trip  and then the driver from the Appalachian Trail Lodge was taking us to Millinocket. 

I spent two nights in Millinocket because a couple of leap froggers where shuttling to Monson on Tuesday and we could all share the ride and it would be cheaper.  

Tuesday morning I was ready and made the decision to stay at Shaw’s Hikers Hostel so I could get a look around and know what to expect when I come back to tackle the 100 Miles Wilderness.

This Hostel is nice. Almost too nice. I need to make sure I leave tomorrow. 

The Journey Is The Reward. Taoist Proverb

On Friday 5/3 I got to talking to the owner of the Laughing Heart Lodge and Hostel

and basically he was in need of a night manager while his wife goes to Katahdin and do a SOBO.  A salary, a room, and experience of running a hostel; that’s an opportunity that’s too good to pass up.  Plus when I’m done here I’ll be flown to Bangor Maine and do a flip flop.  That will allow me to hike in a cooler climate during the hotter summer month.  

One of the main things I’ll be doing with my salary is getting better (ie: lighter) gear.  Also, as I’m learning, the 100 mile wilderness is a special section where the logistics will be different from what I have experienced so far.  Either I will have to pay major bucks for a food drop in the middle of the wilderness or will have to ration my food very carefully.  I may be able to get by with the rationing since unlike so many others that go through the forest and have depleted their “fat” reserves I’ll still have a bit of mine left.

My blog post until I leave will be a little on the “lean” side.  On my time off I’ll still do day hikes, but those will only be for about two nights once a week.  Then there will be some small hikes in the morning when I have duty.  But still the post will be maybe a week apart.

The good news is that the quality should improve (he thinks he can do quality, sheesh!) since I’ll have access to the computer’s at the library. And then when there ain’t a crowd around me I can whip a small post on the hostel’s computer, like I’m doing now.

Like I said before: The Adventure Continues

The Birds were either showing what they though of me or trying to protect me from the bears.

 (revised)

MONDAY 5/23 Newport TN

The next day I was just milling around and talking to the other hikers.  I ended up in the kitchen area having a “hen” session.  One of the guys that does work around the place mentions having to go into Newport for some supplies.  I caught a ride.

When I loaded up my gear, I realized I didn’t have my water bottles.  Then I realized I hadn’t retrieved them from the shuttle with the trail angel yesterday.  Of all the things to forget, that ain’t one of them.

I got dropped at Wal-Mart in Newport and they were kind enough to allow me to store my pack in a buggy at what used to be the curbside pickup storage area.  

During my shopping spree I got a watch to connect to my pack since one on my wrist tends to bug the bejesus out of me.  At first when I was looking over the watch selection I was getting worried since the cheapest was nearly $30 but then I happen to spy the rack that had the watches in my price range: Cheep.

I also found another drybag of sorts; but a little heavy.  I am going to use it to put my warmer gear in and hang it off the back of my pack.

Then I went into the grocery section and went hog wild again.

I still had supplies left over from the Smoky but I bought like I was totally out again.

I picked up some Ranch wings and a Dr. Pepper to eat now and I decided to try my luck on Uber.

I got picked up.

Can you believe it?!?

I held my breath until the driver entered the Wal-Mart parking lot. ( He did not! He was too busy scarfing down those wings and Dr. Pepper).  

The ride was short, about 4 miles, and I was dropped off at the Econolodge that is located next to a Love’s Truck Stop.  I recognized that the hotel used to be a Hampton Inn.  I got checked in and I ain’t never been in an Econolodge with a room this comfy.  The vanity in the bathroom was pure Hilton.  I got a GREAT deal.

A quick trip to the Love’s that had a Chester’s Fried Chicken to get a Chicken gizzards and livers order then I spent the evening getting scrubbed down and relaxing while going over my pack and supplies.  

I quickly realized that I had way too much food.

One day I’m a gonna learn.

The next day I basically relaxed and then after lunch I strolled over to the other side of the interstate to the Dollar General (like he needed more stuff).

I picked up some Aleve, drink mix, granola pars and the last pack of spam singles.  As popular as those singles seem to be I can’t understand why these stores don’t keep more on hand.

On the way back I stopped across the street from the hotel at a “sportsbar”.  Google had some good reviews about their burger.  It turned out to be a smoker's dive, but it had a DAMN good Cheeseburger and fries.  I washed it down with a PBR.

Now here’s the interesting part; when I tried to pay I was informed “no credit cards.”  Seems that I saw the usual barrage of credit card stickers on the door as I came in.  The barkeep pointed to an ATM machine.  I had to inform her that I had never set up my  cards for the ATM.   I had left my cash in my room and I told her I had cash in the room and could I leave some collateral and come back with the cash.  She only took my name down on my ticket and with a promise that I’ll be back I was allowed to go.

As I left I looked at the door again and sur’nuff; the stickers were there.

I returned within an hour with the money.  The barkeep saw me and had a look of relief on her face.  I know she would have had to pay my tab  if I hadn’t shown back up but after trusting me I wasn’t about to stiff her.

The rest of the evening was repacking the pack and setting up a shuttle.

That pack was heavy; food heavy.

WEDNESDAY 5/25 Standing Bear Farm

My shuttle picked me up at 0715 in the morning.  I had been up since 0500 going over the pack and partaking of that succulent continental breakfast.

I had him drop me off at Davenport Gap so I could say that I had at least walked that section to Standing Bear Farm.  When we got to the gap and I was being dropped off where the trail angel picked me up on Sunday; there on a rock sat my two water bottles.  They were right where I had left them.

I had bought two more 1 ltr bottles of water and I filled up my old empty one and allowed the shuttle driver to dispose of the other. 

The shuttle driver wished me luck and then he was gone.

Soon I was on the trail again.

I made good time to Pigeon River and right before I crossed that bridge there was another shuttle driver picking up 4 hikers.  It was my Treker from Gatlinburg.  He recognized me and we exchanged pleasantries while those hikers were loading up their gear and then I continued on.  I crossed the river, crossed under I-40 and found the Tall Staircase to climb up to the trail. 

At the top I misstepped. 

I’m sure if someone had videoed me I would have been doing a spot on imitation of Martin Balsam in in Psycho falling backwards down the staircase minus a knife slash across the face. 

Luckily I caught the handrail. 

But not before my body tried some superhuman gyrations and growth spurts to keep me from rolling end over end down to the bottom of the stairs. 

Ouch!

Nothing that required EMS intervention but I did aggravate my left foot again plus adding a couple of other pains and soreness. I limped to Standing Bear Farm (only 0.9 miles) and will hold up here for a day or two to see if I’ll need higher medical intervention or if my powers of self healing are still intact.

But while convalescing I was going to eat up the extra food I had bought.

By Friday I felt confident enough to risk the trail again.

I was going to leave out early Saturday morning and so went to settle up my bill on Friday night.  Beside cash, which I don’t have an unlimited supply of, they take Venmo.  I had earlier downloaded the app and set it up, so I thought, and they walked me through it.

Payment Declined.

For the next hour it was Declined.

They told me about an ATM that was near and I told them my sob story about not being set up for them.  Apparently Venmo has a habit of not going through plus Standing Bear Farm’s WiFi was acting up.  I was allowed to go with a promise that I would try again when I got to Hot Spring.

SATURDAY 5/28 Groundhog Creek Shelter

I left standing Bear farm about 8 AM.  The trail was a steady climb to Snowbird Peak; a hike of 4.6 miles with a 2522 ft ascend.  I got there by 1330 and had my lunch.  Since I hadn’t dropped pack my back was hurting.  It felt good to have dropped it.  Snowbird Peak has an FAA antenna station there with a wooden fence surrounding it.  There was a grand view of the surrounding area. I walked around and took pictures then I took a nap; about a half an hour.  I was moving again by 1430.

The descend was easy going and I soon made Groundhog Creek Shelter by 1700.  There were three others already there.  Old Woman who claimed her pack weighed 46 lbs.  She spent the night before at SBF and was still there when I had left that morning.  She must have passed me on Snowbird while I napped.  A hiker I had met on the trail named Llama  and then Yukon Jack.  Yukon was the type that claimed he had hiked trails all over the world and single hand fought bears on every one of them.  He also was able to travel about 30 miles a day, in the snow, uphill both ways.

But we had a peaceful night

AT 248.7 - 1944 to go 2828 elev. 

SUNDAY 5/29 Roaring Fork Shelter

I was on the  trail by 09:30.  I had my first break at Rube Rock Trail around 1150.  The next half mile was a descent to Brown Gap Springs which was a Trio of dirt roads.  Then the fun began: It was a steady climb up towards Cherry Creek Trail.  Then a leveling off until I made the Max Patch road.  A quick descent down a tunnel trail of rhododendron that started to rise again.  Then I came to a dirt road that led to the parking lot for Max Patch. From there it was nearly a 400 foot climb.  About half of it was stairs but these stair makers knew their craft.  They should hold a class for the other stair makers who seem so clueless.

Another great view on the top of Max Patch, a bald.  I soon started my descent.  As I left the meadow that crowned Max Patch I saw a box terrapin.  He looked at me like; “Take my pic and you owe me five bucks!”  I decline that photo opp.

The trail after the bald was again a tunnel of rhododendrons that kept the sun off and made it cool.  Soon I came to a spot that opened up to a meadow that was part of the meadow that covered Max Patch.  It was a beautiful view up.

(Yes, I’m as frustrated at this point about not being able to post pictures for ya’ll to see as ya’ll are about not having any pictures to see.)

At the Buckeye Ridge trail there was a bit of confusion on which way the AT ran.  I had to put on my glasses to spot the White Blaze a good way down the trail.

In a bit I came upon an abandoned road then in the next half a mile I was at Roaring Fork Shelter.  I arrived about 1900.

Old Woman was there.

AT 257  - 1936 to go

MONDAY 5/30 Memorial Day @ Catpen Gap

I was up and going by 08:30. I was able to hike until 10: before I had to drop pack to relieve my back. There was a stream here and so I filled up my water bottle. Ol' Wha-hoo-he passed me while I was filtering my water. I thought he had left Standing Bear before me.

Soon I was at Lemon Gap and looking at the steady climb up to Walnut Mountain. The trail up was covered in trees and since the leaves were coming out a view was getting far and few between. I made Walnut Mountain, which is a bald, and enjoyed the meadows as I walked across. These meadows on top of the balds tend to harbor rattlesnakes who likes the sun and the rodents that tends to live dangerously and wants to sunbathe. I kept an eye out.

On the otherside of the bald, just past the tree line is the "shelter". I must say, this is one of the worst shelters I've seen so far. A pavilion would serve better.

To say this place needs work is an understatement.  There are holes in the wall I could put my fist through.  In the picture on the left is one hole that some hiker tried to close up by putting an emergency blanket there.  A rat met me at the entrance and tried to act like a maî·tre d'hô·tel.  I told said rat that I wasn't interested in his accommodations.

On the other hand; the area around the shelter was very nice.  Lots of good campsites.  I didn't visit the water source but now the privy was another matter.  

That's it in all it's glory and no; the picture ain't tilted, the privy is.  The lack of a "door" is compensated by the privy's opening faces away from the shelter.  I bet there has never been a line waiting to use it, though.

Finally after lunch I got ready to leave and headed out to the left of the shelter.  I was going down hill and saw the turn off for the water.  I notice that the trail went into another meadow but this trail was overgrown.  The AT is very foot heavy and the trails tend to stay clear except for the occasional blowdowns, which needs a volunteer team to clear them.  I checked the map part of my Farout app and it showed me I was a 1/4 mile off trail.  I took the wrong trail again 

I retrace my steps back to the shelter and realize that the trail passed in front of the shelter then continued. That's why they got the white blazes.

There was a short descend into Kale Gap then the climb up to Catpen Gap.

Catpen was where I decided to stay.

There were a few campsites in the tree area but the Gap itself was just a meadow.  I didn't go into that area; I didn't want to temp the rattlesnakes.

After setting up my hammock I hiked up 1/4 of a mile to a stream to get water. Hiking is a lot easier without that pack on. I made my dinner then settled down for the night.  I was asleep by hiker's midnight with my sleeping bag over me. 

AT 263.3 - to go 1930

TUESDAY 5/31 Garenflo Gap 

A couple of times during the night I felt movement with my hammock. I would throw back the sleeping bag, switch on my headlamp and look around. Nothing ever seemed amissed.

It wasn't until the next morning that I realize what was going on.

When I awoke, I got up and started breakfast. While the water was heating I started packing. I notice that there was bird crap on the bag and the hammock. They must have been roosting in the tree above me. Luckily I had my bag over my head or I might have had to delay while I washed it off. This experience was a first for me but the mystery of last night was solved.

I got moving by 0800 and did the steady climb to Bluff Mountain that was a mile away. I crested by 0930. Quite a few large boulders on the summit with tree cover. It would have made a good campsite. After a rest of maybe 15 minutes I started again only to realize I was on the wrong train, again.

It was only about a 100 yrds this time and ended at another campsite. I retraced my steps and realized that I had taken a break right at the junction of this side trail to the AT. The side trail went straight and the AT bore off to the left. I need a keeper (he needs to remember to look around for them blasted blazes).

It was a steady decline from Bluff Mountain. About a mile down I dropped the pack to ease my back on a blowdown that was across the train. Later on I came upon a couple of caves just pass the junction of Big Rock Spring trail.

The first one looked like it had a bit of depth to it while the second one I could see what seemed like the back wall from the mouth.  But I decided that spelunking wasn't part of the itinerary today and kept going.  Maybe one day upon a return.  

About a mile out from Garenflo Gap I realize I had a signal and called the Happy Gnomad's Hiker House which was located just off the gap. They had no room. I inquired about a shuttle and their was busy. I was bound and determined to get the sleeping bag cleaned of the caca before I slept in it again. They was able to provide me with the number of a local shuttle driver.

I waited until I got to Garenflo Gap before I called. Here at the gap the trail intersected with a dirt road. There was a fire pit and a couple of camping spots. I had a signal still and was able to call the shuttle driver: Jason. We agreed on the price and the pickup point which wasn't going to be the gap. I would have to walk down the dirt road about 1/2 a mile to the paved part. Jason was aware of the dirt part being badly washed out and didn't want to take his vehicle across it.

I hiked down the road to the paved part and about 1/2 hour later Jason was there.

We loaded up and headed towards Hot Springs. The only route he had to take in this area was NC 209, which is known to most motorcycle enthusiast as the Rattler. Jason was a pro on that road; he took it like a bobsledder at the Olympic, bobbing left or right into the turn as needed. I just imagine I was on a ride at Six Flags.

We soon came into Hot Springs and I was dropped off at the "backdoor" to the Laughing Heart Hostel. Sultry was there to greet me. He took me around the the corner to his little desk and we talked turkey. I told him I wanted the cheapest he had with linen. He laughed at that. Soon he gave me the grand tour and I choose my bunkbed for the next three night.

Now to get that bird shit washed out.

AT 268.3 -1925  to go