And I Will Walk 500 Miles...

39 miles, 24 hours. Took these hiking legs for a spin and they performed brilliantly.

On Tuesday morning at 9:00am we set out on a cold morning from Overmountain Shelter - a beautiful old converted barn in an exposed valley that looks onto the mountains. The night before we had been lucky enough to catch glimpses of the meteor shower despite the brightness of the moon.

The morning 9 miles was a breeze. The sun was shining but the air was crisp as we tackled the two morning mountains. The descent to the road that could take us over to Roan or Elk Park was steep but manageable and we (Avocado, Rocket and myself) got to the road by 1:00pm. Starving, we headed down the road to Mountain Harbor Hostel on the promise of pulled pork sammies and a bit of relaxation out of the sun.

The hostel was beautiful. The old red house had a wrap around porch with a porch swing and a hammock where you wait for your lunch, overlooking a beautiful green bridge that crosses the river that cuts the property and along which billy goats roamed lazily back and forth. It was a sight and the food was spot on. No pulled pork but a meatball sub on French bread was exactly what the doctor ordered.

Around 3:30pm I finally convinced my hiking buddies that it was time to move on. Of course, when we got to the top of the hill there was the most ridiculous trail magic I have seen to date. It may as well have been a free resupply with barbecue beaver sandwiches. Fresh caught beaver. Welcome to the south. The had everything - bananas, oatmeal, cliff bars, snickers, mangoes, yogurt, ramen, water, toilet paper, kiwis... You name it.

I was in a bit of a sour mood with a bit of a stomach ache lingering from lunch and I was eager to press on. Avocado and Rocket, now reunited with Lady who we found at the trail magic, were ready to slow it down and take a short day but I knew that I wanted to make it over to Hampton, TN before the pending rain. After a solid 45 minutes of waiting to see if they would join I took off solo for the next 8.4 miles to Mountain Falls Shelter.

With the heat of the day winding down and the simple terrain I was able to make incredible time and got there in about two and a half hours to find Spider and Backtrack enjoying some dinner but the shelter was otherwise empty. They were planning to take a quick nap and then press on at midnight for Hampton. I was in. Plus I sure as hell wasn't sleeping in that shelter alone.

After a quick 3 hour nap without my sleeping pad (read: restless) we pulled ourselves back up and got packed to head out, each donning headlamps to illuminate the ground in the denser parts of forest. For the most part the nearly full moon lit the way as we trudged on through the relatively tame terrain.

Night hiking is a blast. It's just like day hiking except dark and there is no risk of sunburn. Every time we came to a campsite we would get real quiet then as we passed we would start making monkey/bear/bird sounds just to throw the campers off. They probably thought we were loons, we thought we were hilarious. On a few occasions I missed the rock and stepped in some watery mud, soaking my socks, but it never bothered me for long.

Probably the best part of night hiking is hearing the person in front of you trip and steady themselves and then call out "root!" or "rock!" or "limb!" which then inevitably leads to you tripping or getting smacked in the face with a branch. A little painful but pretty hilarious.

The sun rose as we went over the last hill and we took it in as we descended into Cherokee National Forest. We took a quick break and took it all in - Backtrack offered me his one hitter and it was too beautiful to turn down. Happy Wednesday!

The descent was steep and my knees were squeaking up a storm but we made it to the road that leads to the hostel just outside of Hampton - 16 more miles down. But we weren't done - we had 3 more to go.

The first part of Cherokee National Forest is beautiful and flat with huge rock outcroppings. After about a mile you sharply descend 1600 feet over about an eighth of a mountain down to Laurel Falls - one of the most incredible waterfalls I have seen on the trail to date. I took the opportunity to take off my shoes and soak my ankle in the icy water (my Achilles had been bugging me a bit) before we continued on.

Spider thought that he saw a blaze and immediately started leading us up basically a rock face which I was sure wasn't right. My sense of direction (or logic) must be getting better because we were going exactly the wrong direction. Foolish.

We finally got to the side trail that would lead us to Hampton at 9:00am. In the 24 hours previous I had walked over 37 miles. Holy heck. My feet were tired (as was I) and my tendons and knees were sore but I was relatively unscathed. I felt like a million bucks.

And then, 3/4 of the way down the side trail, there sat 10 cans of PBR. I thought I was hallucinating again but no. It was 10, unopened, ice cold cans of beer. Hallelujah and thank you trail gods! We sat down after a long 8 hour day and indulged. Sure it was 10am but after a full night of hiking it was 5 o'clock somewhere.

Happy and tipsy we sauntered into town by about 11:00am. We went to the grocery store and bought a dozen eggs, a loaf of bread, sausage and snacks all of which we housed immediately upon getting to the hostel. Hiker hunger has officially set in.

The hostel is called the Castle and it looks the part - the building was built in 1909 with beautiful stonework. The floors are a little uneven but it will do for the night. I am showered, scrubbed, shaved, teeth brushed, toes attended to and nails clipped. Laundry is almost done and then it's time for some Grade A relaxation.

What a day. I feel like a million dollars. And maybe a nap.

Getting Out of Erwin

As fun as our last day off in Erwin was, playing card games in the hotel, it was time to leave on Friday. No question. Four days off without a car in a tiny questionably hiker-friendly sprawled out town was more than enough.

Our first day out of Erwin was beautiful - the sun was out but it was cool and Avocado, Rocket and I cruised up the mountain back into the swing of things. Most people that day stopped just after Beauty Spot but the three of us opted to make our way up Unaka Mountain, about a 1000 foot climb into a dense spruce forest. When we got to the top the sky was completely shielded from view by the massive trees and the floor of the forest was flat and spongy and covered in sappy pine needles. It was, by far, the most beautiful campsite that we have stayed in yet. Water was scarce but we had loaded up and the bottom of the mountain before heading up and we immediately started, what turned into, a 6 foot bonfire out of wood that was still mostly damp from the previous evening.

Still a little unsure of how to properly assemble my tent, I had Avocado give me a tutorial. With the rain fly pulled taught and close to the ground it didn't flap in the wind and allowed me to get my best night sleep in my tent so far out here.

The morning was brutally cold and begged us to stay in our sleeping bags and I wasn't arguing. We started another fire and finally got moving a little after 10am. The day was more difficult than expected with lots of dips that kept slowing us down. My Achilles acted up to so when we arrived at Greasy Creek Gap around 2pm (11miles into the day) I was thrilled with the prospect of heading down to the hostel down the way to grab a sandwich and some ice.

The hostel was just a small house with a converted barn that acts as the bunkhouse directly adjacent but CC, the owner, is a dream. She runs the hostel alone but makes sandwiches to order and sells you "stickers" at $2 a can (I'll let you guess what a "sticker" really is). You can get a smiley face "sticker" or a y "sticker" and both will do the trick to cure what ails you. Her neighbor was a crotchety old man with a jerk of a dog that barks at hikers. He has been known to put up signs on the trail saying that her hostel is closed and take down her signs from the trail. Apparently he went so far as to take out part of her water pipe which left her without water to her house for a day.

After a "sticker", plus a few to go, we headed back up to the gap which was now overrun with tents pitched all over the place. We joined tent city at the upper campsite and got a fire going. With about 10 of us around the fire we talked and laughed and ate until about 10pm (way past hiker bedtime) and retired.

This morning we have tackled some major mountains in the spirit of Earth Day (what says "earth day" better than a cat hole, starting a fire before 8am, walking everywhere and packing out your trash?). We are lying on the top of the false summit before Roan Mountain soaking up the sun. It is beautiful and life is good. Less than 9 more miles to Overmountain Shelter and then we are just two easy days from Hampton, TN. Bring. It. On.

Quote of this section:
"The Appalachian Trail: the most fun you'll ever have interrupted by long walks in the woods."

Crises of Commitment and Trail Angels

No one said that this was going to be easy. But no one told me that you will give up more often than not when you aren't even walking. No one told me just how homesick I would be. I never realized just how much I would miss fresh produce and how resentful I would become of Pop Tarts.

No book that I have read or documentary I have watched could've possibly prepared me for all of this. But of all the books I have read about the Trail, not one prepared me for the incredible goodness of the people around me. Hands down, this is the most incredibly giving, interesting, compassionate, kind, fun group of people that I have ever encountered in my life.

Yesterday was an incredible challenge. Never before have I cried so much in one day and been so sure of a decision only to have everything turn around in the parking lot of a Greyhound bus station. I was going to South Carolina to see Linds - I bought my ticket and was ready to go from Columbia straight to the nearest airport to take me home. But some combination of the support and love from Headstand, Two Pack, Goatman, Candy Pants and so many more and the slow driving and wisdom of Ms. Janet brought me back. The trail wasn't done with me. Or I wasn't done with it...or both.

Ms. Janet is my kind of woman. For over 20 years (or so she tells me) she has been driving along the trail supporting and partying with hikers. She rescues, educates and assists in our inebriation. She may be the primary reason that I am still pressing on in my northbound adventure.

It helped that I spoke with Jolly and TyeDye this morning as well - I miss them something fierce and I cannot wait for our paths to inevitably cross in the near future.

Today I walked 20 miles back from Big Bald to Erwin to make up the distance that we missed by getting off the trail to recover from the plague. It was enjoyable and quick with perfect weather and a warm campsite just outside of town waiting for us and the promise of a ride to a Mexican restaurant in the next town over with margaritas and fajitas.

I am excited for the next 120 miles into Damascus and to see what the rest of this trail has in store. Tomorrow promises thunderstorms so it may end up been yet another day off in Erwin. Who knew it would be so hard to actually leave?

Trail Plague

We had warning - we should've known better. All the businesses in Hot Springs had signs up to the extent of: "24-48 hour virus plagues hikers" warning of the explosive evacuation of bodily fluids that were sure to follow. We just won't stay in the shelters, we thought. Wrong.

After our 20 miler I was a bit tired so we took it easy the next day - only about 16 miles to the next campsite. Again we ran into someone with the AT Plague and moved on immediately. We found a beautiful stream with a flat bed to camp by and set up there - my first adventure with "stealth camping". Everything went smoothly until it came time to hang the bear bags. All of the trees were perfectly perpendicular to the earth with no branches to toss our ropes over. Except one - a thick branch shot from a tree on the edge of the trail directly over a straight drop-off. Barbarossa and I tried about a dozen times before getting the line over and successfully hung the bags which now dangled about 30 feet above the ground below.

Then we realized that Star Child hadn't given us his bag yet. Barbarossa decided to get a long stick and poke the bag to make it swing back to grab. He did manage to grab the swinging bags but not before they dragged him bag down the hill. His giggling at the situation only sent him farther down the hill in his hiking kilt. It was quite the sight.

I slept better that night than I had to date in the tent. Hearing running water from the creek right by my head lulled me to sleep.

The following day we set off with the goal of taking down Big Bald. I was pretty slow and fell a bit behind Beetlejuice and Barbarossa but they waited up for me at every rest stop. My trail angels.

At the last peak before Big Bald something was clearly wrong with Beetlejuice but he said that it was just from drinking two sodas at lunch. I didn't buy it but decided to walk on behind the others.

The trek up the bald was violently windy with rain rolling in but the views were incredible. I reconvened with Barbarossa and Star Child at the next peak and stopped to wait for Beetlejuice. When he wasn't there in 15 minutes I knew something was wrong. Barbarossa immediately dropped his stuff and began to jog back down the trail while Star Child and I bundled up to avoid the cold.

When Barbarossa came back alone I started packing before I had heard what he had to say - I knew I was going back. When he told us that Beetlejuice had vommitted 12+ times and was setting up camp on the side of the trail I took off. Did I want to get sick? No. But we had been hiking together for over 3 weeks which means 2 things: 1) if he's sick, I'm 95% sure I am too and 2) he wouldn't leave me out there so I couldn't leave him.

I took a bypass road around the bald to stay out of the wind and a blue blazes trail back from a small parking lot to the trail. I wasn't sure if he was up or down the trail from where I was so I gambled on direction (successfully, for the first time maybe ever) and went up the hill. I found him crouched over a stream with his tent set up sideways on the side of the trail.

With water filtered, I made some tea with aloe given to me by Silver Fox and hung up his food. The tent space was sparce so I found a bit of land above the stream (the stream actually ran underneath - I am eternally grateful that the sinkhole gods protected me for the night) and set up upwind from him. Once I was settled I ran up the hill a ways and began to call every shuttle service I could contact, my hand a veritable AT thru-hiker phone book by the end. Finally I reached Ms. Janet who offered to pick us up the next morning from the dirt parking lot where I had cut through earlier.

Once I knew Beetlejuice was okay I tried to go to sleep. It was better than expected (thank you sleeping pad) but still less than ideal. When I woke up I was tremendously weak and had a raging headache. Perfect.

We managed to get back to the trail head and waited about an hour for Ms. Janet's white van to come barreling up the gravel road. She told us stories of the dozens of hikers she had to pull out of the woods (many of our friends) due to he virus.

We checked into the Super 8 as soon as we got to Erwin and found Beacon and Crazy Frog who had also been laid up and invited them to stay with us.

I feel like death. I managed to eat some dinner at a great spot called Hawg-n-Dawg (phenomenal hotdogs and pulled pork - delicious but bad idea) and do our laundry. Now it's running back and forth to the little girls room while sipping ginger ale. This is the unfun part of the trail.

I will definitely be zeroing here tomorrow. Damn you hiker plague.

Zeroing in Hot Springs

I'm sorry I'm sorry I know I haven't blogged in days and haven't had service. I reemerged to a service zone to no fewer than 5 "are you alive?!?" texts. Yes, I'm fine an better than ever.

With my Achilles' bothering me to a debilitating level heading out of the Smokies I opted to get a ride from one of the owners of the Standing Bear Hostel to drive me up the road to Hot Springs to have it looked at by a doctor and give me a chance to rest and wait for my hiking buddies to catch up. Smart move, Ratcliffe. Perhaps not so smart a move was the choice of who drove me. When we stopped to get gas (at 9:30am, mind you) my ride also picks up a PBR tall boy which he poured into an empty coffee cup to drink on the ride. I wasn't really nervous until he got out a cigarette and started smoking, drinking and driving with his knee on a winding road just feet from the French Broad river. Then I made sure my seatbelt was buckled up and wished desperately that I had the window glass cracking hammer my brother had purchased for me for Christmas. Just in case.

We made it all in one piece and Curtis dropped me off at the Laughing Heart Hostel just of the trail. I spent the day lounging, kicking it with Bubblegum and Beacon and visiting the Hot Springs (more on those later).

The next day I visited the doctor to find out what was up with my feet. I wasn't thrilled to spend an hour in the waiting room past my appointment time but was very thankful to learn that the doctor was a previous through-hiker. Apparently my self-diagnosis and recommended medicinal regime was spot on (what a waste of $60) - at least 2 more days rest and ibuprofen three times a day. Plus new shoes and he assures me that I will make it to Katahdin no problem. Works for me.

I was walking back to the hostel post-appointment when I see Beetlejuice and Trucker headed towards me. Hallelujah! I hadn't slept well the previous evening without them there. It's amazing the bonds you can form with people in such a short amount of time and having someone there who you can stare into a fire pit with at the end of the day in total silence and still get what the other person is thinking is pretty amazing. Knowing my people are there somehow makes everything better.

The next day and a half were perfect. Relaxing, cleaning out our packs, mailing stuff home, purchasing necessities at the outfitter, drinking beer and lounging in the Hot Springs. Fact: we are all a bunch of dirty vagabonds out here. Gypsies. We come to town in hoards and become the townies, taking up entire sections of restaurants or bars, loitering at the laundromat and aimlessly roaming the streets. The amazing thing is that the actual townsfolk adore us and set up ways to help us in every way possible. Free community dinner? Come one come all! A special house with free wifi, showers, cookies and pack-watching reserved for hikers exclusively? Amazing. I am truly learning the meaning of southern hospitality and kindness out here.

The last night in town everyone went back to the Spring Brook Tavern for live music and libations where we sang along to the band ... Loudly. It was the perfect end to a few restful days off.

Friday morning after a hearty (and very cheesy) breakfast we set out in the most out of Hot Springs to tackle the next 70 miles to Erwin, TN (our next option for resupply). Our packs laden with way too much food we struggled up the first climb (it's amazing what 3 days off will do to your hiking legs. Read: just about kill them) but then got a good pace going and actually made it the longest day yet: 20 miles.

We set up camp away from the shelter to avoid a 24 hour stomach virus that has been plaguing campers staying in the first few shelters out of Hot Springs. It was a beautiful evening with an incredible sunset over the mountains. My feet felt good in my new shoes and I was warm.

Today was the first day that I have thought: Man. I could make it all the way to Maine.

Achilles Heel

Taking a zero yesterday in Gatlinburg was an inspired idea. We spent the day resupplying, walking the "strip" and testing out a local brewery (delicious, btw).

Gatlinburg is bizarre. Bill Bryson describes it so well in his book "A Walk In The Woods". It is a bizarre, somewhat depressing town with 3 Ripleys Believe-It-Or-Not museums, a Hard Rock Cafe and at least three bars that have karaoke on the weekends. The streets were littered with aggressively made-up and hair sprayed teeny bopper cheerleaders and their overbearing mothers wheeling them through the streets to the convention center for the local cheer competition, overweight tourists in town just to drive up to the top of the mountains to see the views that we have toiled so hard to reach and spring breakers eager to overindulge, purchase customized tucker hats and ride the gondola up and down the mountain.

As I mentioned - Gatlinburg is a bizarre place.

I did, however, thoroughly enjoy the weekend karaoke scene and tore up the stage at Shamrocks with some rousing renditions of "Thrift Shop" and "Call Me Maybe". I attempted to rap battle with one gentleman singing "I Like Big Butts" but he wasn't having it one bit. I sung along anyways.

By the time morning rolled around I had enjoyed just enough civilization to make getting back on the mountain traumatic. I so wanted nothing to do with another 30+ miles of the Smokies and instead to head home for some late night date night with my man and a glass of vino at Carpe. My body rejected the mountain so violently that I started to cry and shake, unable to move towards the trail. Beetlejuice and Trucker gave me a quick pep talk and convinced me to keep walking but the day was just starting to get interesting.

At about mile 6 or 7 my Achilles' tendons swelled up on both my ankles to the point where I could not take a single step without paralyzingly pain shooting up my legs. Immediately I stopped and applied some tiger balm and switched into my Chacos but at that point the damage was done. Even the pressure from the thin heel strap of the sandals was enough to cause enough pain that tears were streaming down my face as we walked over the remarkably docile ridge line.

At mile 8, I stopped to duct tape the back heel straps to the bottom of the shoe which helped, but only marginally when compared to the selfless act of trail magic that I was forced to accept. Trucker and Beetlejuice each took some weight from my pack and, when I wasn't looking, Beetlejuice scooped up my entire lightened pack and ran off a few hundred yards down the trail. I felt like a pansy but could not have been more grateful. The four Advil helped as well.

After 7 more miles slipping through slushy or, worse, icy snow we arrived at the shelter with about 20 others and set up camp. It feels fantastic to be in a sleeping bag and I can't wait to get out of the Smokies tomorrow to hopefully see a doctor about my ankles.

New Ways to Get Down a Mountain

Hiking in sandals is all fine and dandy until rain storms hit.

The day after entering the Smokies we had planned to hike 12 miles to the shelter just before Clingmans Dome - ambitious, especially considering wind, rain and the fact that the first 6 miles is the hardest in the Smokies. I geared up and headed out, too afraid to put my feet back into my boots so instead I put on my sandals again thinking that I would have wet feet but no big deal!

Wrong. Big deal. In addition to wet, muddy feet I also had no traction. Every wrong step led to a wipeout in the most violent way - slipping down embankments, over logs, into creeks, and - most painfully - always onto my wrists. I wiped out fully 6 times with dozens of smaller slips. Each fall let in just enough water inside my rain gear to saturate my base layer, socks and the rest of me.

The 6 miles to the first shelter took almost 4 hours. When I got there I peaked inside and saw everyone - Beacon, Trucker an Beetlejuice - was all there in their sleeping bags. So much for 12 miles but I wasn't complaining. It took stripping down to next to nothing and climbing into my sleeping bag to get myself back to something that resembled warm again and another 3 hours of drying my clothes in front of the fire to have something semi-dry to sleep in.

The AT is not glamorous.

Last night there was some violent, next-level snoring happening (we aren't talking a gentle purr here, we are talking straight up sleep apnea, wet, violent, "oh god is that a bear??" snoring) but thankfully no mice. Waking up for 18 miles was no walk in the park but at least I woke up warm with the promise of 50 degree weather an sunshine.

The sun finally did come up at about 9 miles into the day as we slipped and stumbled through ice up to Clingmans Dome, the highest point on the AT and the third highest mountain East of the Mississippi. The views were magnificent, despite the 20+ mph frigid winds.

The fun thing about Clingmans Dome is that you don't have to be a thru-hiker to experience the beauty. You can drive straight up to the top and walk just the last half mile. This is everything that is wrong with America. You want the view? Just drive on up!! No problem!! It blows my mind to think the different perspectives that we have versus people who just drive to see it instead of trudging 200 miles north to get to that point.

After Clingmans we still had 8 miles to go to get to Newfound Gap to catch a hitch into Gatlinburg. It would have been a snap had there not been ice all the way down the mountain and then some. At points the ice was so solid that the only way down was to sit and slide. I think I covered about half a mile in total intentionally on my ass. I was cold but the sun was out and the prospect of a hot shower was in my future so I was happy.

Hopefully we will take a zero tomorrow to recharge and let my feet stop throbbing. I am glad to know that I can do 18+ mile days but lord help me I am thrilled to know that I don't have to do them every day.

Time to tap the Rockies and call it a night. xoxox

Who Needs Boots?

Not I, apparently. Retrospectively, deciding to completely alter my choice of footwear 10 miles into the Smokey Mountains maybe wasn't a great idea but it did lead to my longest and most comfortable day thusfar.

Chocos are gifts from god. In the span of 1 hour my toes stopped hurting, my right heel felt like a million bucks and my arches were supported. Sure my socks got a little wet as we trekked trough streams but I will take it if it means I can comfortably do 18 miles a day.

Last night was our last night of glamping for a while and we absolutely made the most of it. I think Turtle (who has since abandoned her trail name) stayed behind but I thankfully have a great new group in Beacon, Trucker, Flip and Beetlejuice. I wish 50/50 had made it all the way to this shelter but he's about 3 miles back. All of my hiking companions are quicker than I but we meet up at the shelter at the end of the night, even if it takes me a bit longer.

It seems like everyone out here has dreadlocks or a trekking beard - I'm feeling a little plain! Maybe I should have cornrowed my hair after all. And everyone has a story. Beacon, who has crazy blonde dreads, has been traveling for years, doing meditation seminars where you don't speak for 10 days. Sometimes he walks shoeless. He's only 20. Diet Coke is walking through the Smokies to Damascus, VA to complete the only part of the trail she has yet to hike. All in all the section hikes have taken her 10 years. She's about 70.

Everyone runs the gamut out here but a few things are true across the board. Everyone has your back and everyone shares a common goal: Katahdin. It brings people together in the most phenomenal of ways and brings out the absolute best in everyone. Never before have I seen people strike up conversation with strangers, share their limited food supply and help others with such abandon. If you can make someone's trip better, you do. No questions asked. You have M&Ms? You eat a few and then pass them around for everyone to share.

Maybe this isn't actually as big a departure from society as I had thought. Maybe, instead, we are doing what we can to get closer to an ideal society - one that functions without judgement and semi-automatic weapons. I haven't quite figured it out but that's what the next several hundred miles are for.

Slack Packing To The Smokies

After the two days leading up to NOC, getting a slack pack all the way to Fontana Dam was a godsend. It gave us the opportunity to rest our knees, ankles, toes etc and put in some big miles.

Yesterday started with a decent climb and, for once, I actually hiked alone with headphones in - it was remarkably refreshing. Made the 14+ miles near on a pleasure.

Last night a group of us got a ride into some cabins a few miles off the trail and treated ourselves to Star Wars on VHS , a home cooked meal and some good old fashioned relaxation. I slept better than I have in ages on a cot in the living room.

Our day today was pretty much the same. Took it slow to let my muscles, tendons and toes heal and finished just over 14 miles by around 2:00pm. Took the rest of the day to resupply, do laundry and drink vodka tonics. And now I am warm and happy and ready to take on the next challenge up in the Smokies.

The biggest challenge over the past few days was (pardon the TMI) getting my monthly visitor and effectively putting on bear aphrodisiac perfume. Perfect. I saw a black furry something-or-other down the hill yesterday and just took off running, absolutely convinced that it was coming for me. Being a woman is the worst.

Tomorrow will be a big day - thankfully I'm with a solid group: Beacon, Beetlejuice, Trucker, Flip and 50/50. They are all quicker than me but we put in the same miles so we end up meeting up at the end of the day. No complaints here. Two of them are foresters and 50/50 is a doctor so they are keeping me good and safe (don't worry mom!)

NOC

How I made it 17 miles to the Natahala Outdoor Center yesterday is blowing my mind. That was by far the longest day we have done so far and it was brutal.

It rained hard the night before and a mouse managed to chew through the mesh hip pocket on my pack to get through to an empty Cliff Bar wrapper. In my flailing to get rid of the little asshole I knocked over one of my boots and it fell outside the rain fly and proceeded to fill with water. Perfect.

Thankfully the boot dried out pretty quick and we got on our way at around 9am. The fog hung really low - similar to when we were heading out of Neels Gap - which played games with my mind the whole way up the first big climb. Every time we got to the "top" the fog would clear just enough to reveal another up. Perfect. And when we finally got to the top the views were so obscured by the fog that we couldn't even make out the mountains looming in the distance.

After a snickers bar and a loosening of my boots (they were way too tight, cutting off circulation to my feet) I felt like a new woman. The next 7 miles were alright, especially after some much needed trail magic at the gap before Wesser Bald. Hotdogs and Coca Cola anyone? I had just been whining about my need for a soda so when I rounded the corner and saw that pickup truck with three locals and a little grill and a big cooler I looked at them and said: "God?"

It was an Easter miracle.

The last bit downhill though (and by "last bit" I mean "5 miles") was insanely brutal. They say that screaming expletives actually relieves pain and I can attest to the validity of that. I think the hillbillies in the decrepit meth lab down the hill were a little nervous.

When we finally walked into the NOC I went straight to the restaurant and asked for their finest local brew and the worlds most massive glass of water. The bartender poured it into a plastic cup and I took it outside and savored it, shoes off as families that were there to do kayak adventures walked past judgmentally. Judge on, jerks, you dunno my life.

The jalapeño burger that I had for dinner was incredible. Sub tater tots for fries yes please. Full and happy I staggered up the hill to the cabins and into the loft to have a space to myself. Talking to family and a few friends lifted my spirits and I fell asleep in a stupor after a load of laundry and a thorough scrubbing in the shower.

Today Beacon, Trucker, Beetlejuice and I got our packs driven 14 miles up the road to a hostel for just a few dollars so we get to hike packless today. I am THRILLED. Hopefully walking a bit without my pack with help my legs and feet to heal.