The Appalachian Trail has always held a fascination for me. This was enhanced in 2011 when I completed my hiking from Tennessee to Maine. However, the fact that I did not start at the beginning in Georgia has continued to be a sore spot for me and so I have been determined to close that gap and be able to say that I hiked the entire Appalachian Trail.
When it came to planning this trip, the idea struck me to climb Springer Mtn., the peak at the southern terminus of the trail. Then, I thought I ought to expand on that and close the gap. So I spent the night at Hikers Hostel, where they provide a good breakfast and help with shuttling... for a price.I met a former through hiker named Land Line who was spending the season doing manual labor to earn some money for his next adventure. Talking with him brought me back into the thru-hiker mentality that I've been over a year removed from. It felt good and healthy and it made me wish that I had indefinite time to spend on the trail and that my destination was Maine. Happily and sadly, I have a wonderful job that I do not want to leave for the sole purpose of hiking the trail from end to end.
I opted to hit the trail at Nimblewill Gap, a spot my driver i nformed me that he had only brought two other people out to in the past three years. I chose this place because it is on the approach trail, a little over 2mi from the summit of Springer Mtn. The ride was extremely rough and bumpy and the road was such that I wouldn't have driven it in my car. Still, the climb up to the southern terminus of the trail wasn't that bad and I easily passed by the first few shelters.
Continuing on, the trail eased up and I was able to see the forest for the trees. In fact, I came across a couple sitting in a truck at a trailhead and the woman gave me a note to pass long to someone at the outfitter at Neels Gap, the effect of which was my feeling like a colonial messenger. This was in spite of the fact that she was in a truck that could have reached the addressee in less than half an hour. I opted not to read the note since it wasn't for me so for all I knew, I might be unwittingly aiding General Benedict Arnold.
Regardless, I continued on and spent the night at a shelter 10mi up the trail, which I felt good about having started at noon and having stopped to take pictures and enlist in the Continental Messenger Service. I was happy to set up shop for the night before dark and before the temperature dropped below freezing. Snug and warm, I took the liberty of reading a book that I'd been eyeing for a long time.
The name John Steinbeck had always been sinonimos with the dust bowl for me, an era distant and disconnected from me. How else could it be when all I had read of his work was Grapes of Wrath and Of Mice and Men? Still, now I was reading Travels with Charlie and I discovered a writer much like myself. Indeed, I found a kindred spirit who felt the same need to travel, the same wanderlust as I. It was remarkable and I felt that this was a man I wished to meet. Though I had read On the Road numerous times, this book was resonating with me in ways that Kerouac never did. Steinbeck seemed so witty, wise and contemporary, so NOW that it astonished me.
However, my alarm clock wound up freezing and so I over slept sleeping and being in more of a panic than I ever was On the Trail before. My need to get to Asheville by a certain time was creating a sense of panic for me. under my heavy winter load, I struggled. Eventually, I did the humane thing and pulled the plug on my hike remembering, thanks to John, that this was a road trip, not a hiking trip, and that I ought to get to Asheville sooner rather than later to connect with the people once again.
Once at my hostel, I was given the tour of the house and a primer into all things West Asheville. While all of this and my own explorations seemed satisfactory, I felt as though I needed to get out of this insulated neighborhood, though I loved the fact that I was set up on a tent platform in the middle of an urban neighborhood. Perhaps John and I will move on tomorrow.
No comments:
Post a Comment