This morning reaffirms that there is definite room for improvement in the morning preparation routine. We were the last ones out, and how! It was 10:30 before we managed to emerge from the shelter for the fifth and final time. As the picture below demonstrates (my pack on the left—completely packed) and Bunny’s on the far right (also completely packed) are not the issue. The double pack explosion in the middle might arouse some speculation as to the cause.
The two VA Tech boys offered to help me get water to help get us on our way. As we were hiking down there, they asked me if the other two women hiking with us were married. When I said they were, they asked where their husbands were and what they are doing. I replied they are probably sitting at home in their recliners realizing that after 20 years, there still is color commentary with sporting events. I asked them if they had girlfriends and they surprised me with their honesty. “No, we are mechanical engineers and will probably never have girlfriends like all those MEs who have come before us.”
Kaitlin and Kaitlyn are section hiking through the Smokies. They met in college at UNC Wilmington. Kaitlin has a dream job where she promotes marathons all over the country while Kaitlyn has an amazing social conscience. She wants to work in international relations and raise social awareness to American youth and get them excited about helping others. They were two very sweet girls and helpful. Since this was their first night out, they, too, were a little slow getting ready in the morning. They only left an hour before us.
As we were getting ready this morning, Dancing Dog starting canvassing everyone in the shelter if she should take her long underwear off since she was cold. The two Kaitlins said yes. The two VA Tech guys said yes. Durwood said yes. Trail Runner, Bunny Tracks, and I said yes. The couple from Minnesota who camped outside said yes. The young guy who cowboy camped outside said yes. Two bears who were rummaging for food said yes. That’s 13 yea’s to 1 nea. Clearly the Nea’s carried. 40 minutes down the trail, we had to take a 15 minute break for Dancing Dog to strip off her long underwear because she was overheating.
I did my Tim Conway old man stroll up the trail to give DD some privacy. After about 10 minutes and 1/4 mile of trail, I found a stone I could sit on. As soon as I sat down, I cupped my head in my hands knowing that a long wait was in store for me. Amazingly, two little squirrels with bulging cheeks came up and left their nuts at my feet. They looked up at me with sympathy and understanding in their eyes. We had a silent connection in which I knew they were telling me to hang tough with the women. They made little fists and we butted knuckles before they left.
It was now that the most incredible thing of my life happened to me. A deer, a young buck, came up to me with a tear in his big, dark eye. He lowered his head and nuzzled under my arm. After a couple of minutes, we could hear the woman finally approaching. He lifted his head and we gently bucked heads as he turned off the trail, but that wasn’t the amazing thing. He turned back to me and said “I cant stand the noise. It’s no accident that we young bucks hang alone. Keep strong—YOU are a good man.
It was still raining when we got moving again. Bunny Tracks and Dancing Dog kept telling us to “be careful, it’s slick” whenever we came to a rock, stick, root, wet leaves, or patch of mud. Normally, this would be a very sweet and conscientious gesture, but anyone who has ever set foot on the Appalachian Trail knows that it exists entirely of rocks, sticks, roots, wet leaves, and patches of mud. Trail Runner and I picked up our pace to get a break.
Eventually, we were so far ahead that we felt guilty and waited. When Dancing Dog caught up with us, she told us that she had had to stop to poop in the woods. Normally, a hiker will drop their pack to accomplish such a feat, but not DD. She asked us if we wanted more details. I replied “the brown streaks on your leggings tell us enough of the story.”
Trail Runner tried to get us to pick up the pace. I am impressed with how well she has adapted to hiking. When we got to the top of Rocky Top, all we could hear behind us was two voices that kept saying “it’s so peaceful” “it’s so peaceful.” Which it was actually peaceful when the two women would quit saying it.
After Rocky Top, we still had 5 miles to go and it was already past 4. When we have long miles left in the day, I usually start harassing Bunny and tell her that we’re not going to get into camp until 6:30 (aka “hiker midnight” aka “sunset” aka “bedtime” aka “when the street lights come on”) and that usually motivates her to walk faster. The problem today is that there is absolutely no way we will be to the shelter before dark.
We picked up our pace, but it was apparent that DD was having some problems. She is a very strong willed woman and physically strong and will normally push on through any physical challenges. Today, she kept dropping behind more and more. It turns out that her previous brown blaze was not an isolated event. She has gotten sick (diarrhea; a hereditary disease—it runs in your genes). We had also stopped once for a blister which has developed on her heel. To her credit, she doesn’t complain at all (an example Bunny could learn from).
We donned head lamps and marched the final 1.6 miles into camp in the dark. The sky was clear and it was getting cold. We had 700’ to lose and 1,000’ to gain in that final stretch. I was a bit off in my prediction of 6:30—we didn’t get to the shelter until 8. Everyone was already in their sleeping bags. We did the minimum we had to do to eat and get in bed. Bunny and I finally hung our bear bag when we finished eating at 9. We went inside and everyone else was already asleep.
EFG