Friends!
So much has happened since we left that it overwhelms me to even consider how to process it all. I will start with the logistics, I suppose. Today marks the 20th day of this fantastic voyage. We have covered 204.7 miles of the AT, and are currently situated in the rather odd Vegas-meets-Disneyworld-meets-honkytonk town of Gatlinburg, Tennessee. In the hiking world, we have traveled over half of the way through Great Smoky Mountains National Park.
The wealth of each day spent on the trail makes it nearly impossible to give any sort of play-by-play. I feel like I'm trapped inside Joyce's
Ulysses...if I try to match words to all the thoughts and experiences and emotions of a day, I will end up creating an 800-page novel that might contain some fantastic insight, but would mostly just make for an exasperating read. I shall spare you.
The trail, like my mood and the condition of my body along it, has seen many peaks and many valleys. The unseasonably challenging (read: practically Apocalyptic) weather has forced everyone to weigh his or her motives early on. Our "zero day" in town today, for example, came as a result of T-storm and tornado warnings covering most of the Smokies. We have seen light snow, winds that have uprooted trees (and strewn my socks about a shelter site), and nights as low as 25F. I had little sleep the first ten nights, instead spending them shivering in my sleeping bag. It has rained for part or all of eight of the last nine days.
But moods change like weather out here. I have discovered what a Child of the Sun I am, and what a difference being clean and dry makes. One spectacular mountain view and one sunset have acted as Reset buttons. Just yesterday, the pendulum swung so dramatically. We summited Clingman's Dome, which, at 6,643 feet, marks the trail's highest point. Deprived of any view (again), due to freezing rain and wind (again), we slugged tired legs over slippery rocks and through four inches of mud (again). Yet, eight miles later, when we descended to Newfound Gap, the trailhead at the NC/TN border, three groups of 'Trail Angels' greeted us. I was handed a Fudge Round and some trail mix (thank you Clumsy!), and a Budweiser (thank you Red Dog!). A Florida couple on vacation celebrating their 25th wedding anniversary, Beth and Barry, volunteered to give six of us a ride down the winding path thirteen miles out of the mountains to Gatlinburg. We laughed in the truck bed, with warm, low-altitude air whipping back our hair. We debated about how much money to offer them for their help. They graciously drove us to a motel, and, far from accepting our donation, demanded that we all take $20 bills. When we refused, Beth tossed them into the bed of the truck, saying that they dreamt of hiking the AT, and relished the opportunity to help us fulfill our own dreams. Their generosity, and the generosity of the others at Newfound Gap, had us all feeling unbelievably high. The morale swing from cold, cloudy Clingman's Dome to Barry and Beth's pickup truck could not have been larger. Yesterday represents only one example of the enormous range of emotions that we encounter almost daily on the trail. I think that when we have finished this, years will pass before I can completely understand the multitudes contained in this period.
We have met so many wonderful people on this expedition. Hikers form instant families, with only a pack and a plethora of miles as the ties that bind us. So many have set out on this pilgrimage-- I have already met around fifty myself. Pat and I have spent many days traveling in a group of five, with a Michigan native (here via Oregon) officially named 'Alias' and unofficially named 'Wags,' a Connecticut guy here from Montana, which we have deemed 'Hermes' for his impressive pace, and a Georgia Peach named 'Gangsta.' I have other friends, also, in front and behind us. These are good people and we have had innumerable laughs around campfires and late-night giggles and stories in shelters. Recurring friendly faces make a sort of traveling home where our nomadic lifestyle would otherwise lack one.
Time dangles here, and though each day teems with emotional, physical, mental and objective/temporal events, I do at times keenly feel the disconnect from my previous life. I have had (late) news of the death of a friend's father, and also the expectation of my cousin's second child. I have had thoughts of the homecoming of one best friend, and another best friend that I had hoped would be celebrating a homecoming with me. I am absolutely where I want to be, but it can be difficult to be away during such events. I have traded Facebook for sporadic radio weather reports, texts for bear sightings (yes, we saw some... yikes!) and annoying shelter mice, sushi dinners for Snickers bars, and working for walking. There are pluses and minuses to all these.
My friend Nevena/'Gansta' said on the phone last night, "Every day my resolve to get to Katahdin gets stronger and stronger." One of the gentlemen doing trail magic at Newfound Gap told us yesterday, "Never give up." A book I read before we left reminded me to never quit on a rainy day. Beth and Barry generously contributed to our opportunity to "live the dream." I have had so many smiles, but on difficult days, I think of these nuggets of wisdom, and I think of all of you. Thoughts of my friends have taken me over several 3,000-foot climbs, and many murky puddles. I am not there with you, but you're here with me. Peace and much much love, friends. Happy Trails.
<3 "WindUp"
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