Sir Packs-a-Lot gave a nice presentation about thru-hiking this morning over breakfast. Over 25% that start don’t even make it out of Georgia (we will be leaving Georgia in the morning). Another 25% will quit between Georgia and the end of the Smokies. If you complete the first 275 miles, you have a 50/50 chance of completing your thru-hike, unless you are a senior. If a senior completes the first 275 miles, there is a 95% chance of completing the trail. We both have AARP cards (compliments of my wife). Furthermore, my wife can order off of the senior menu at Denny’s—we are golden.
The Top of Georgia Hiker Hostel has been called a cult by some. Mainly because hikers come in just in time to drop their packs and catch a shuttle into town. One of the main reasons to stay at a hostel is to shower and do laundry. When you come in just as the shuttle is leaving, the only choice is to strip off your dirty clothes and put on the scrubs the hostel gives you—you don’t have time to shower until you get back after dinner. The end result is that there are a lot of smelly, scruffy people wondering around town asking strangers for a ride to the other end of town to get to a restaurant, etc. Most up these people are stiff from carrying a pack for the last 70 miles, are sleep deprived, and smell to high heaven. The hostel just needs to give them some plastic flowers to sell to have a “moonie” flashback to the 70s.
Once we got all of our internet business done including permits for the Smokies, we had already missed both shuttles back up to the trail so we had to hoof it. It was only 3/4 of a mile so we didn’t even try to hitchhike, we just sucked it up and took the additional mileage without complaint. When we got to the parking lot, Snap was already there doing trail magic. Bunny and I split two Krispy Kreme donuts (true, I had one and a half to Bunny’s half, but technically, we split two donuts). Bunny also grabbed a bag of chips which she DID NOT SHARE with me. I routinely give her an M&M out of every package to share the bag. I guess I’m just much more generous than she is.
We barely got on the trail before Steady Eddy and Patches passed us up heading sobo. They had made the decision to stay another night at the hostel and chose to slack pack today. Slack packing is walking a section of trail without carrying your pack. Someone either carries it forward to where you are going to end, or, in the case today, Sir Packs-a-Lot took them north and dropped them off to hike back to the hostel.
The weather today was like an ex-girlfriend. “I love you so much.” Bright skies. “Why didn’t you compliment my new blouse?” Dark skies. “Let’s go out to eat.” Clearing up a bit. “Where do you want to go?” “I don’t care, you choose.” “OK, pizza”. “You know I hate pizza, NO”. Heavy winds. “Mexican?” “I love you” brightening skies—That’s what the weather was like today. Schizophreniac!
At one point, I was standing in the fog with the rain starting and stopping ( a “why don’t you love me anymore?” Weather phase} and I realized I was happy. There weren’t great views, but it was so mystical and serene standing in the rain. I was just happy and anticipating something magical to happen like a deer pop up and stare at me face to face. It didn’t happen. Even the deer are smart enough to get in out of the rain; only people are crazy enough to be out in this.
One young couple from Connecticut passed us up. They started just a couple of days before us. Dirty R and Grape Stomper talked with us a bit and then we passed them again. We didn’t see them again for a couple of hours until the showed up at the same shelter we are staying at. Dirty R has hiked most of the trail in 2015 but had some health issues that caused him to stop in New Jersey. He had some good advice for us about what to expect.
As we were finishing our supper of Mexican Rice and some sort of powdered meat substitute (that wasn’t soy, wasn’t meat, and wasn’t dirt but some happy medium in that food triangle), Lucky 59 and Pepper Pot showed up. They camped out in the downpour last night and all of their gear was soaked. As is the norm with everyone out here, they were still happy and talkative. We all know we are lucky to have the opportunity to be out here and nothing will dampen our hiker highs.
Is that Plum Orchard shelter? Not the shelter I remember, somewhat fondly. (My brother and I spent a night there with one of the oddest characters I’ve ever met on the trail.) They sure don’t make them the way they used to…
Plumorchard Shelter is only a couple years old. It was airlifted in by the military just 2 years ago.