Long Day, Low Miles, Town Day
When I awoke at about 7:00 AM, I accidentally brushed the side of my tent and a sheet of ice released and crashed to the ground. My buffs were frozen hard. I'd hung them inside the tent in hopes they'd dry out a bit. The zippers on the tent and the rain fly were frozen shut. With a little work, the zippers released and I peaked outside. There was about three inches of snow on the ground. If I wasn't out in the middle of the mountains, this would have been really cool! When I'd gone to bed last night, I was a bit worried if the temperature dropped too much in the night I might not wake up. But, I was still alive, and that was cool.
It was really, really cold and it was still snowing. The snow and ice made the tent easy to break down and stow. However, the poles wouldn't release. They were frozen together. Hmm. I thought for a second. Then I grabbed a joint and ran my hand across it vigorously, and it released!
I was in a hurry this morning so I had a power bar a few cracklins and some Cajun beef jerky. Then I spent a few minutes figuring how I might lighten my load. I was at about 70 pounds fully loaded. This was too much. It was killing me. So I had to give up the eggs and about 75% of my cracklins. (You know things are serious after that.) I also dumped both of my water bottles, since during the day I had enough with a full Camelbak of water. My pack felt a little lighter, but the effort I put forth to climb out of the gully made it inconsequential.
It was still snowing and I was wondering if it would ever clear up. It was important for me to stay hydrated. With the cold, it was easy to forget to drink enough water. When I took my first sip of water, I got nothing. The water in the tube from my Camelback had frozen! Man, was it really this cold up here? I bent and twisted it and worked some fresh water into it, which helped to melt the ice in the tube. Finally, after about 10 minutes, I got it working again.
I'd soon learned a new trick I could share with other hikers. Once you drink from the tube blow the water back up into the bladder. The bladder has an insulated pouch that keeps the water from freezing in the bag. Shortly after this, I'd run across a 1972 thru-hiker. Back then, he told me, they didn't have trail names. So he was working on one. “Doc Holiday is what I am thinking," he said. “I'm an educator and I've taken some time off, a paid holiday." Wow. Even if he was 18 when he first thru-hiked the AT, that would make him 50 now. He didn't seem a day over 40 to me! And he was having no problems.
Today's hike would not be an easy one. It was cold, snowing and very windy. The trail was snow covered and very slippery. The next shelter was 8.5 miles up the trail, and the trail held some mean ups and downs between here and there. I'd done 8 miles the day before, so maybe I could make the 8 miles. Otherwise, I‘d do the same as last night and find a campsite off the trail.
Near the top of Sassafras Mountain I ran into the southbound team from Florida U. These Florida students were hiking maniacs. They'd already done about 12 miles and would do another 2 or 3 before camping. They were all in good spirits. And I'd like to add that both the southbound and northbound groups were really fine people. They were polite, had great attitudes and were disciplined hikers. It was nice.
The downside of Sassafras was as brutal as the upside. Sassafras was the biggest climb of the day. It was nearly a mile up, and one of the steepest I'd seen yet. The way down put a tremendous amount of strain on my knees, even at a snail's pace. At the base of the mountain was Cooper Gap. I pulled out the map to take a look at the trail ahead. I had only hiked about 4 miles, which meant I still had about 4 miles to the next shelter. It was 3:00 and I knew I couldn't make it 4 more miles. There wasn't enough time, nor did I have the energy. I considered camping here, but the gap was the site of a road crossing where three roads intersected. The intersection was surprisingly busy and would be noisy that night.
I was sitting on my pack when a man pulled over to say hello and ask how I was doing. We talked about the weather a little and he said he was impressed I'd survived last night. I am not sure if he was joking. He was a local and said it was about 5 degrees last night. The weather would clear for a day or so he said, but it would be near or below zero tonight. Toward the end of the week another storm was expected.
At that point, I started to reconsider hiking the next 4 miles to Gooch Mountain shelter. My right knee was stiffening and starting to swell a little, and with an extended break, I was starting to feel the cold. I thought about last night and what the local had told me.
I decided at this point, tomorrow I'd take a town day, or zero mile day. I'd try to hitch a ride into a nearby town. It had only been two full days on the trail, and I was whipped. I hadn't planned to take a town day for about a week. But with little experience with this kind of weather, I was going to play it safe, and out went my thumb.
It was only a couple minutes before a mini-van slowly approached the crossing. A bit awkwardly, I held up my hand, fist closed with my thumb up. It felt strange. As the van approached, however slowly, it didn't seem to be stopping. I quickly glanced at my hand, to make sure I was doing it right. I'd seen it done many times, but this was the first for me. So I approached the van. It seemed to be stopping. I looked in the passenger window as it was rolled down. I asked if they were from around here (duh). They said they were from Dahlonega, a town about 20 miles away.
The windows on the van were tinted so I could only see the two gentlemen in the front seats. I then heard a lady's voice come from the back of the van. Now, I was worried that even with a polite request for a ride, they may not have room for me. Still the optimist, I asked if they had room for a rider. It took nothing more than asking and the driver popped open the hatch and let me into the cargo area of the van.
Once I got my pack inside, and crawled in, I noticed two silver headed ladies in the back seat. Both of them sitting upright and proper, turned their head slightly and kindly greeted me, although with a bit of hesitation, I sensed. Despite the fact I was sitting on the floor in the rear of the van, it was one of the most comfortable rides I could recall. It's amazing what 20 miles of ups and downs will do to a mind and body.
The four of them were very kind to me. They inquired where I was from and about my family. They had been out joy riding, checking out the fallout from the storm, looking for turkeys and deer. The men told fish stories up in the front seat, while the ladies joked about their husband's fish stories.
They were good company and it turned out to be a very nice experience. And I saw some beautiful natural scenes and farms. This included a few turkeys. Until then, I'd only seen one wren. I probably made so much noise coming down the trail I'd scared everything from the trail.
Mr. J.P. Jones was my driver and Good Samaritan. He dropped off his companion couple and then he and his wife took me into Dahlonega to find a hotel. They took me to an Econo-Lodge, which was very nice. It even had a Chinese Restaurant next door!
I thanked him for the ride and expressed my appreciation. I offered to give him a few dollars for his troubles, but he declined it. Very grateful I told him he was a kind man. His response? “Ahh. I wouldn't have left an old dog up there in that weather." I figured he meant that as a compliment.
I ordered the shrimp toast appetizer, the crab wonton appetizer, and the boneless chicken. Yes, I was starving, even though it seemed like I was always eating on the trail. Every time I'd stop to rest, I'd have a snack. I had a lot of snacks! It was some of the best Chinese I'd ever had.
That night after washing all of my clothes in the bathtub and getting my equipment re-organized. I lay down and elevated my knee. It wasn't painful, but it was swelling and tightening as the night got long. But no matter, it sure felt good to be in a soft bed, in a warm room.
