Back to reality...

Sadly, the real world calls. So today, I'm catching up on the last bits of our hike from the waiting room at the VW dealer, while my little wagon is being serviced. Sorry for not posting in a while, but things have been a wee bit hectic since we finished. I'm backtracking to include some photos from our last few days before Thanksgiving. My parents came to pick us up outside of Franklin, NC the Friday before Thanksgiving so that we would have time to prepare for our house-load of people. Our last couple of nights in NC before the holiday break were seriously cold and windy, really pushing the limits of all of our gear. It was definitely a welcome return to central heating and hot showers.

On a fire tower, near Wayah Bald, NC.

On our last hiking day before Thanksgiving, we found some very
welcome trail magic, in the form of trail angel Apple (I think that's his
name--I'm drawing a blank). We sat with him and ate hot dogs, cookies,
and cold Cokes--awesome!

 

We were thrown off schedule by Puppygate, taking 2 days off for our impromptu maternity leave. We had planned to summit Springer on Saturday, Dec. 3, so that some of our friends and my parents could join us for the final mile. We decided to stick with that plan and stay an additional 2 days to make up the miles we had missed. There was a brief discussion of coming back at a later time to finish, but we decided that it would be far too easy to put it off indefinitely.

Lunchbreak. Hiking in north Georgia should not look like this....

We had a great day at Springer. The hike up to the mountain was absolutely beautiful, following a lovely creek through rhododendron groves. As we were hiking, we wondered where our buddy Beanpole was on the trail, figuring that he had to be getting close to the end. When we walked into the parking lot near the top of Springer, I saw a couple of hikers coming down the trail from the summit. Strangely familiar hikers. Beanpole! And John Wayne! They were with Beanpole's dad, who had come from Alabama to pick him up at the finish. So there were hugs and beers and stories to tell in the parking lot before they headed back to Birmingham.

With Beanpole and John Wayne. We made it!

The best part of the day was meeting up with our friends and family. Many thanks to Greg for organizing our little tailgate welcome-home party. It meant so much to us that he and Erin gave up football tickets and made the long drive to the mountains to share the experience with us. My parents were also there and even made the mile-long hike to the summit--having them there at the end was really special.

I am so thankful that we have such wonderful memories of that day on Springer. Tragically, we learned yesterday that our buddy John Wayne was killed in an accident over the weekend, while hiking with Beanpole in Alabama. I didn't know him that long or that well, yet I feel so saddened by this. Maybe because he was so young. Maybe because he had just completed a life-changing experience that would happen to be his last. I don't know why. But he was doing something he loved with people he loved, and I suppose that should be some comfort. He will certainly be missed.

Erin rocks her sexy lumberjack look on Springer.

Mountaintop celebration.

 

With Erin and Greg at the summit.

 

With my folks at Springer--the best trail parents ever!

 

Here comes the cuteness...

I don't think any text will be needed for this.

The View from the Other Side

I guess we know what it's like to be trail angels, now. I know some of you have been following along with our doggy drama on Facebook today, and we really appreciate the support. For those who don't know, we had puppies today. The hound we rescued yesterday went into labor this morning. To be more accurate, Pancho looked down and saw a puppy on the floor and it was on. From about 8 AM until around 2 PM, she was delivering, ending up with 10 adorable little babies. Yes, 10. We hit double figures. Yikes. Fortunately, all 10 seem healthy. Mama seems (understandably) tired, but otherwise OK. She looks super thin now, though apparently, aside from being undernourished, she is in good health.

We've taken lots of pictures, but we don't have the camera download cord. We'll post them all later, so stay tuned--they are ridiculously cute. Pancho took this one with the phone when there were only 7 pups. I've been told it looks like either a soccer ball or a stuffed cow. It's really just a pile of cuteness.

Tomorrow afternoon, a local rescue shelter will be picking up mom and babies and taking them to a foster home. We'll end up missing 2 days of hiking this week. We still plan to summit Springer on Saturday, though we'll have to make up about 30 miles after the fact. An unexpected complication, which happens all too often on the trail, but worth it to know that mom and babies are safe.

If you or anyone you know would like to adopt either a puppy or mom, please contact Castaway Critters in Blairsville, GA. Their website is www.castaway-critters.org and phone number is (706) 781-3992.

Every day is an adventure

Today was definitely one of those days that happen on the trail, when you realize that you just have to roll with it. Since Monday, we’ve been based in Young Harris, GA, in a cute little cabin, as we slackpack the final miles of the trail. Yesterday was miserable, with pouring rain and temperatures dropping throughout the day. We actually had to move a fallen tree off the forest service road we took to get to the trailhead. Then we had a lot of high water and a few sketchy stream crossings. All told, a great day to come back to a cozy cabin with a hot shower and dryer. An even better day today—high around freezing, with snow all day. Despite the cold, it was a beautiful, snowy hike.

I kept thinking about all of the thru-hikers who walked along the trail we covered today. The majority of thru-hikers head northbound, so they have only covered 50-60 miles at this point. Many of those never finish and a significant number never get out of Georgia. It’s strange to think how close we are now and to remember how those first days were for us. For those of you who have followed since the beginning, you may remember we only made 5 miles on the first day. And it was a long, painful day. Now, we’re down to the final few days and I find myself wanting to both speed up and slow down.

Unfortunately, we won’t be able to hike tomorrow. When we got back to the car at the trailhead, we found a dog huddled in a pile of wet, snowy leaves, shivering uncontrollably. When she stood up, we realized she was pregnant. We bundled her into the car and took her to the local vet. They checked her out and said she’s in generally good health, aside from being undernourished, and ready to deliver at any moment. The vet wasn’t able to keep her, but put us in touch with a no-kill shelter in nearby Blairsville. The problem is that they can’t take her until noon tomorrow. Instead of hiking, we’ll be driving her to the shelter. So, here we are in our little cabin, on the couch with a glass of wine, hoping we don’t end up in a 101 Dalmatians situation tonight. She is so sweet and well-behaved and it enrages me that someone seems to have abandoned her.

We’ll be finishing up at Springer on Saturday, though we may have to come back and make up a day after the fact. Since a small, hearty band will be joining us for a bit of tailgating and hiking the final mile, we don’t want to change our schedule, but we do need to get the puppy settled somewhere.

Stay tuned—we’re almost there!

It’s been brought to my attention that the last few posts have sounded a touch “trail-weary.”  An accurate assessment, I must admit.  After over 2000 miles and more than 6 months, it happens to everyone.  No matter how gung-ho you may be at the start, no matter how much you prepare, there will come a time in everyone’s hike when you just want to be done and you wonder what the hell you’re still doing out in the woods.  There have definitely been days like that lately.

I’ve really struggled with the cold weather, especially through the Smokies (or, as we took to calling them, the Great Sucky Mountains).  A couple of nights last week, it was down in the teens, with highs barely clearing freezing.  It makes it incredibly difficult to drag yourself out of the sleeping bag in the morning, the only place you’re actually warm, knowing that you’ll be cold all day long.  This just confirms my belief that I have no interest whatsoever in any sort of alpine or arctic travel.

The Smokies are one of the coldest sections of the AT,
 with much of the trail above 5000 ft. We had some pretty cold
temperatures, heavy frost, and snow and ice.

We came upon this little guy near the top of Mt. Guyot.
He had fallen and couldn't get up, so we lent a hand.

We’re also both struggling a little physically at this point.  Pancho has tendonitis in both Achilles tendons, which has prompted us to cut our miles back dramatically.  He starts strong every morning, then after we break for lunch, his heels tighten up and he ends up hobbling for the rest of the day.  I’ve also had some sub-par hiking days, feeling generally fatigued and out of energy.  The cold compounds the problem, since I don’t feel like eating, drinking, or stopping to rest.  Hiking lower miles and getting to camp and going to sleep earlier, I get easily frustrated, since there’s no good reason that I should feel so exhausted.  But, then Pancho points out that we’ve walked 2000 miles.  There might naturally be a bit of fatigue setting in right about now.

We took an extended break in Gatlinburg, hoping to rest Pancho’s heels and ease the tendonitis (not successfully), and also to celebrate our 12th anniversary.  We bypassed the heart-shaped hot-tub honeymoon suites in favor of the Hilton Garden Inn.  Many thanks to all the great folks there who took such good care of us!

On the tower at Clingman's Dome, the highest point on the AT.
The photo was taken by an Amish teenager--not bad for his
first experience with a camera.

I love these national park structures from the 60s, like the
visitor's center on Mt. Washington. It's like a
Jetsons spaceship landed on the mountain.

I have to say, we were not thrilled with our Smokies experience (see pejorative nickname above).  First of all, you’re theoretically required to stay in the shelters.  Prior to hitting the Smokies, we had only stayed in 2 shelters.  Sleeping in a rodent-infested hut with a bunch of strangers is not what I had in mind when I wanted to do this.  Fortunately, thru-hikers are allowed to camp, if the shelters are full, which they were on our first two nights in the park.  After that, we just tented anyway, assuming that no ranger was going to head up the mountain in sub-20 degree temps to issue tickets to wayward thru-hikers.  A second weirdness about the Smokies: the shelters used to have chain-link fencing and gates across the front.  The park is notorious for bears, and apparently, fencing in the hikers was originally deemed a good way to keep them safe.  As opposed to say, teaching people the proper protocol for camping in bear territory.  There is something perversely hilarious about hikers peering out at the bears, like they’re the ones in the zoo.  If only bears had a sense of irony…. (only one of the shelters we saw still has the fencing in place—the others have been remodeled)  Perhaps my biggest issue with the Smokies is the park’s ridiculous approach to poop.  Historically, there have been no privies at the shelters in the park, though, now many have been added.  Instead, the shelters had a “toilet area,” where you’re supposed to do your business, digging your hole and burying your stuff.  Well, let me tell you, the toilet area is basically a sanitary minefield, with little blobs of TP everywhere.  And, I certainly don’t want to dig beneath the surface, as it were.  What moron thought this was a good plan?  The argument is that privies are expensive to install and maintain.  In the most visited park in the national system, does it really provide a satisfying outdoor experience to have people dodging surface turds?  Rant on park management officially ends here.

A snowy Smokies trail.

Pancho at the Fontana Hilton, the shelter at Fontana Dam.
One of the largest shelters on the trail, it also boasts
a bathroom with hot showers and a great view of the lake.
We had the whole place to ourselves.

At the moment, we are waiting out a nasty, rainy day at Nantahala Outdoor Center.  Since we hit Fontana, on the TN/NC line, I feel like I’m back on home turf.  I’ve been coming up here my whole life, rafting, paddling, and hiking, and it’s like NOC is the first taste of home.  This will be our final post from the field. Friday afternoon, my folks are picking us up on the side of the highway outside Franklin, NC, to head home for Thanksgiving.  We could finish by the 24th (it’s about 135 miles from here), but since we host, we need a few days to pull it all together.  So we’ll have an opportunity to indulge the hiker hunger on Thanksgiving (we may have to have a turkey of our own), then hike it off.  After all of the family leaves, we’ll be back on the trail for the last miles.  There will be more posts after we get back, for the last section and the re-entry to civilization. It may be a week early, but we are both thankful for all of our family, friends and the new friends met along the way—hope y’all have a safe and happy Thanksgiving!

Sunday morning, my parents dropped us off under a bridge along a twisty state highway, to head out into the cold. There was definitely a part of me that wanted to just stay in the nice, warm car and drive back to Atlanta and our cats and our house. But the stubborn, driven part thought that we were over 1800 miles into the trek, and no way in HELL are we stopping now. Now, we’re 250 miles from home. It seems like every day goes a bit faster now, as we’re on the downhill slide back to Georgia. If only it were really downhill…

Pancho's pirate alter ego, Captain Sea Cucumber, and his one good eye.
This is what a cold morning in the tent looks like....

We’ve been in Hot Springs, NC for the last two nights, at the Iron Horse Station Inn and Tavern, a cool little joint with lots of good live tunes and Highland Brewery taps. Today, we did a great 20 mile hike down from Max Patch in perfect weather with Sage and Meander. We’re all heading back out tomorrow. Pancho and I will take a break in a few days, to soak up the tackiness and celebrate our 12^th anniversary in Gatlinburg. I think there is a heart-shaped hot-tub calling our name…. J

View from Max Patch, NC.

Hiking with Sage and Meander.

Carolina on my mind....

For the next week or so, we’ll be heading right down the line between Tennessee and North Carolina. Today, we spent a frigid, snowy day hiking over Bald Mountain, from Sams Gap to Spivey Gap. We’ve been in Erwin, TN for the last few days, visiting with my parents and getting in a couple of days of slackpacking. A very good thing, since yesterday was cold and rainy and today was worse. It’s always good to be able to come back, take a hot shower, and dry out after a day like this.

Before we reached Erwin, we had some spectacular weather—perfect, sunny fall days. Earlier in the week, we stayed at the Mountain Harbor hostel in Roan Mountain. Mary, Terry, and Lula take amazing care of the hikers passing through, especially with their incredible breakfast. We also got to hang out with some great section hikers and reconnect with Beanpole, another flip-flopper we originally met in NJ. And this last section had my favorite hike so far, up around Carver’s Gap, crossing some of the beautiful balds.

The Cat Lady. At Mountain Harbor in Roan Mountain.

Pancho and Beanpole on Jane Bald.

Heading across the bald. NC/TN.

Nachita on Jane Bald.

Rocky Top, you'll always be...

the singlemost irritating song on the planet. Especially when performed at karaoke, at Quincey’s Pizza, by a group of senior hikers. Many of whom also apparently clog. A very special experience. One of many out on the trail.

Fortunately, we slackpacked today, so we could come back to town and take a hot shower after 15 miles in the snow, our first snowfall on the trail. Though it’s always great to hit a new state, Tennessee didn’t exactly welcome us with open arms. With high, swirling winds, freezing temps, and what the meteorologists call a “wintry mix,” yes. What the hell does that mean anyway? Isn’t it just the weather guys saying we have NO IDEA what will happen, but it’s going to be cold and there will be some form of precipitation. Well, we experienced all forms of precip today, in all states.

Unfortunately, at this point, we need to head back into the woods.  It has become clear that inertia is going to become a serious problem on our south bound leg.  Once in town, we want to stay in town.  Perhaps it is the shorter days, or the turning leaves, but we are finding it more difficult to get off our asses and head back into the woods.  As a result, despite the fact that the weather is not the best and not likely to get better for a couple more days, we're off tomorrow!

500 miles to go....

Less than 500 miles from home! We arrived in Damascus, VA, yesterday. One of the best known towns on the trail, famous for the big hiking festival held here every May, Damascus is a mecca for fishing, hiking, and biking. In addition to the AT, the Virginia Creeper trail, a rail-trail, passes through town. It’s amazing to see a town this (very small) size with 6 or 7 bike shop/tour companies. If only there were more than one bar….

We’re definitely starting to experience some wintry weather. We’ve had some very cold and windy nights out on the trail, fortunately tempered by some glorious, sunny fall days. The colors have been beautiful, though now most of the leaves are off the trees and on the trail. And leaves are a pain in the ass. Slick as glass when wet. Covering rocks and roots and all manner of ankle-turning obstacles when dry. And LOUD. Crunching through the leaves is making me a bit nutty—it’s hard to even hear yourself think. I do enjoy seeing the change of seasons on the trail, though. One of the advantages of flip-flopping and splitting up the hike.

Vista outside Pearisburg, VA.

After leaving Pearisburg, we went to Woods Hole, one of the best hostels on the AT, run by Michael (who gave me a fantastic massage!) and Neville. A beautiful, serene location, delicious meals, and great company(including the puppies and kitties) made for a terrific evening. We had another relaxing stay in Marion, VA, a surprisingly neat little town. We headed into town to escape the pounding rain and wait for some clear weather. As usual, we went straight to Mickey D’s, for Quarter Pounders and Wifi, where we came across the General Francis Marion Hotel, an historic inn in downtown Marion. A well-restored and lovely hotel, with a hopping little bar, in a very active main street area. Even considering the source of all evil (I’m looking at you, Walmart) is in town. Marion also has a restored theatre (didn’t get to go in) that is one of only 3 remaining Mayan revival theatres in the country.

Woods Hole hostel, VA.

Pancho and friend at Woods Hole.

Pancho setting up camp at Old Orchard (VA),
where we spent a crazy windy night, pondering the
wind rating of our tent.

Mt. Rogers high country (VA).

Wild ponies along the trail, Mt.Rogers high country (VA).

Nachita and friend. Much better than encountering a
 bear parked in the middle of the trail.

We rolled into Damascus just before the temperature dropped and the rain started. Of course, the forecast now predicts snow showers on Friday. Yikes! There may be a second zero in Damascus. I’m more than willing to suck it up and hike through rain, snow, etc., if I’m already out on the trail. But heading out of town into crappy weather? That’s a totally different ballgame. For the moment, we’re warm, dry, and comfy. We’ll see how long it lasts!

On the trail again...sort of...

Heading out, Take 2. And dressed for safety.
"I'm not a turkey--please don't shoot me!"

Once again, we’re availing ourselves of the free WiFi at Mickey D’s—this time in Pearisburg, VA. It’s been a bit of a slow start, since we headed out almost 2 weeks ago. The 2½ weeks of downtime definitely took a toll. It really is amazing how much fitness you lose in such a short time.

When we reached our starting point at Thunder Ridge, it was eerily similar to our first day back in May: zero visibility, zero sun, and heavy mist. And much like that first day, we didn’t go all that far. It definitely took some time to get the legs moving again. After three slow, painful days, we decided it was time to go to town and busted out an 18-mile day into Daleville. We took a day off, then slackpacked 19 miles, to help get our groove back. A very cold 19 miles, with seriously high winds. Unfortunately, our plan to avoid the incoming cold front by slacking another day was thwarted by the Hokies. Apparently, Daleville fills up on VA Tech home games, so we had to head back into the woods. The Hokies could have at least won, since we had to freeze our asses off.

Under The Guillotine. Yikes!

Admittedly, I was NOT prepared for the unexpected cold front, having sent most of my warm gear on to Pearisburg. So we found ourselves back in Daleville, making a trip to Gander Mountain to score some more winter gear, and taking another zero to avoid the cold rainy weather. There was actually snow and sleet in Pearisburg. It’s only the beginning of October! It’s way too early for this! Of course, now, it’s back up around 70. Oy.

McAfee Knob

Tomorrow we leave Pearisburg, heading to the hostel at Woods Hole, supposedly one of the best places to stay on the entire trail. And I’ll be getting a desperately needed massage there. Yay! I hate to cheat on Selina, but it has to be done.

Down Time

Just a quick update on our hiatus, which has been quite hectic and more than a little overwhelming. We rolled into Pancho’s mom’s place near Annapolis in the middle of the night, after a long, stressful drive from Maine. Then came three solid days of shopping. Oy. We were both in need of clothes and supplies for our trip to Amsterdam, especially Pancho, who had no pants that fit anymore. Losing 6 inches in the waist seems to necessitate a trip to the mall. And WOW is the mall a horrible, anxiety-inducing nightmare after four months in the woods. The noise, the light, the ridiculous consumerism were pretty overwhelming for us both.

These boots are no longer made for walking....
 I was just hoping to make it up Katahdin in them.
It's never a good thing when you can see your socks through the top....

Manscaping in process--the mutton chop phase.
Thankfully short-lived.

Fortunately, we survived the mall (actually 3 of them, with which I am now WAY too familiar) and headed off to Amsterdam. Much like Vegas, there is very little that I can reveal about the trip J, just that Pancho really freaked out some of our friends and we still have no answer to the eternal question: how many entrepreneurs does it take to find a brothel in Amsterdam? (More than you might think….) We do have an answer to the question of how comfortable wooden shoes are—not even a little bit. Especially when you’ve been pounding the hell out of your feet for months. Yikes.

Sue rocks the clogs.

Dean, Eric, and their special friend.

On the party boat.

We’ve been delayed a bit this week in our preparations to head back out onto the trail. We’ll be taking off from central Virginia on Sunday, heading south this time. Actually a touch nervous about changing directions—we’re so accustomed to looking at the map and the guidebook in the other orientation. Hopefully, we’ll stay on track the right way—if not, we sure won’t be publishing the fact here! 



Before--in Buenos Aires, right before we started hiking.

And after--4 months, 1400 miles, and 56 pounds later, in Amsterdam.