3/16/08 Plum Orchard Gap (71 miles N of Springer)

After unsurpassed cordial treatment at the Blueberry Patch, I feel reborn both in spirit and physique. Essentially yesterday morning Peacock and I raced the oncoming thunderstorm to reach the amenities of town. We were caught in about an hour of violent rain onslaught and I especially suffered because of my porous Goodwill rain jacket and temporary pair of Crocs to combat my blister problem.

               After cleaning up at the Blueberry Patch I gained resupply at Hiawassee—food, knife and replacement Crocs. I seem to have a miraculous knack for losing gear, especially small utensils which are frequently put to use. I am still astounded by the general hospitality of mountain residents, like the woman who spontaneously offered to shuttle DaddyO, Peacock and I through the hail in Hiawassee.

               After a scrumptious organic breakfast at the Blueberry Patch, I was faced with the infuriating and restless task of waiting for my old boots to arrive in the mail. In the situation it was so easy to become frustrated and impatient with the Postal Service. But I must conquer the mentality of a rush or hurry. I am in the midst of the wonderful wilderness, encapsulated in timelessness.

               The boots never arrived, but a man offered me his old shoes—more trail magic—and I hiked back into the wild to experience the comforts of community again.

3/16/08 from the Blueberry Patch Hike Hostel Hiawassee

Dear tenants of an Unmoving Home:

I won’t include too many sentiments by hopefully you will understand that all is beautiful and lovely here. I am at the Blueberry Patch right now—a hospitable setting pulsing with hiker vibes. There are 13 of us in a Polish-sized room. I must congratulate you on wonderful food preparation. My meals evoke many jealous stare and drooling palettes. Crucial advice: do not include more than 5 days worth of food in any mail drop. I have adopted the approach of small but frequent resupply.  The choice and portions of breakfast and dinner have been very appropriate but always leave lunch purchases up to me for the sake of fresh bread. But do keep up the support. I always appreciate love from afar. Remember, variety is the spice of life! I hope you appreciate all of my correspondence. I am sorry it is so brief but I have been surprisingly rushed to resupply. 

Currently I am restlessly awaiting my old boots by Express Mail at the Blueberry Patch Hiker Hostel in Hiawassee, GA. I have 13 miles to cover today so I think I will be hiking into the evening. At least I can enjoy some solitude now to write a letter.

So far, my experiences have been as wild and radical as can be expected from a vagrant, rambling lifestyle. I’ve met many neat people on the trail and in town as well…courteous people willing to shuttle hikers around all day. I still feel unsatisfied after multiple trips to the buffet and a pint of ice cream!

In the morning, I use my alcohol stove, a coveted piece of gear to cook a wonderful breakfast and hot chocolate before packing away all my camping gear. Though I wear long underwear, pants, and a jacket to bed, after hiking I am soon warm enough for just shorts and a polypropylene shirt.  Within the course of the day I walk between 9 and 14 miles at least here in Georgia. I stop to eat a bagel with cheese for lunch or snacks with other hikers. I try to reach the shelter before 4:30pm. Usually shelters are full by this time with about an 8-person occupancy. After hiking all day in sweaty clothing it is crucial I change into dryer layers before settling in. I cook dinner around 5pm and am asleep by 8:30pm, ready to see more vistas the next day.

The one thing I am unsatisfied with is the weight of my pack-between 35 and 40 pounds, which is technically at the upper end of a good carrying capacity, about a quarter of body weight. There are men here 50-100 pounds heavier than me carrying lighter packs. I intend to change some camping inventory in Franklin and buy a lighter jacket, lighter tent stakes, a camelback to replace my Nalgenes, and lighter shoes.

In terms of food, I sincerely love all the creative mail drops and lovely labels from Eric. In general, I try not to carry more than four days of food, but I’ll need 5 days after Fontana Dam to get through the Smokies.

I hope everything is calm and cozy at home.

Peace, Michael/Ishmael

3/14/08 Tray Mountain Shelter (56 miles N of Springer, 6 miles today)

Darkness cannot exist without the absence of light and fortunately the sun always rises. Though yesterday was grim ad almost hopeless, today the horizon is bright again. After suffering troubling blisters on my heels from the monolithic Limmer boots, I was able to recover in Helen, Georgia. I am truly grateful to DaddyO and Peacock for bringing me into town and saving me from misery. After making moderate recoveries at Motel 6, we feasted at a Mexican restaurant and I successfully finished a pint of ice cream on my own! I am awaiting new shoes in the mail at Hiawassee. But in the meantime I am wearing DaddyO’s crocs. Today was a moderate mileage day, to promote recovery, but tomorrow we must brave the brunt of the rainstorm to reach Hiawassee, the prospect in the valley. I roam with different packs of hikers every day, but so far on of my favorites is Handyman. He is an older inspired man, enchanted enough with the woods to heave his old life behind.

               Love, Ishmael

3/12/08 Low Gap Shelter (41 miles N of Springer, 14.4 miles hiked today)

I feel the blissful liberation I have felt after every fatiguing day. Today was certainly a test of endurance, and I feel grateful for taking the challenge I am beginning to feel the sense of a roving community more and more. Many of my early friends like Atraen, Voodoo, Avalanche, and Rabbits Foot have taken time off at Neel’s Gap. Tonight I stumbled upon an entirely new band of hikers. It is difficult to predict who will and will not finish…we are all such determined characters.

               Tonight I write from the light of the stars and I am rather surprised at my ability to be content at night with no shelter. Hopefully I am becoming a profit of the wild.

               Peacock and Daddy-O are greater friends and assets than I initially expected—very encouraging and open-minded. It is with them that I have formed the closest pact. Today I stumbled into my fist trail angels, an elderly couple at Hogpen Gap handing out soda and cookies. I abandoned all pretense at preferring healthy foods and devoured what was offered. In fact, I practically collapsed after running up Hogpen Mountain to reach them since I had heard of their favor down the trail.

               Unfortunately I have gaping blisters on both heels and I cannot find a solution. I feel strong enough to complete this journey and I cannot let that stop me!

3/11/08 Woods Hold Shelter (27 miles N of Springer)

After 12.4 miles today I feel absolutely spent, mentally and physically. Though I punished myself with perseverance through fatigue and soreness, I feel better indoctrinated to the life of wandering. Already my mind is honed to a life of solitude and introspection. Every shade and hue is better defined under patient eyes and the sunshine is friendlier to weary minds.

        At first I was frustrated upon stumbling into a full shelter—occupied by boisterous and slothish southerners. And coincidentally, one of the 8 spaces was claimed by a man from Perth, Australia in the midst of the Georgia AT.. But after time to relax and a wonderful dinner prepared by mom, I left accepting and perfectly happy with my circumstances. Sometimes hard days make good evenings.

 

3/10/08 Greetings from Gooch Gap! (16 miles N of Springer)

“I feel it is more genuine to write all my feelings in the midst of hiking rather tan release them once I reach town. Of course, it certainly is early to make lasting judgments, so I will only record the little things which I have experienced so far.  

               I have come sixteen miles so far and seem to be in the shifty proving grounds. Physically and mentally I am trying to limit myself in the first leg of this great journey and only some of my company of other hikers are choosing to do the same. Last night one guy bragged about his daunting 21-mile schedule for today, but I have yet to see him pass me and I hiked eight miles today. The other thru-hikers certainly are a band of characters. Amongst us are a former chef, a veteran, disgruntled college students, a previous failed thru-hiker and an old thru-hiker with weathered skin and thick limbs—seemingly unbathed since his last thru-hike. The woods can certainly seem crowded, but it is a warm way to end a cold day in isolation. My first night in the shelter was surprisingly pleasant. I stayed warm and suffered only moderate stiffness. Of course the daytime is beautiful but I cannot wait for spring—so that the cold will pass and the wildlife will return. So far I am enjoying a time without troubles. I hope the same situation is true of home.

               I could hardly ask for a more satisfying night. Truly it is the simple things that buoy my mind and ease my muscles. Mild weather, warm fellowship and a soft place to sleep are the joys which I have found here and seldom in the commotion of competitive life. I must remember that my shoelaces deserve ample time for tying and lunch can last as long as I am content for there is no rush to reach a destination on a daily basis, and no need to sacrifice minutes. There is plenty of time to understand the people around me, so judging them now is hardly worth my time. I feel strong and confident about my abilities and goals. And slowly I can wean away from the gravity of cities. The climbs were difficult today bit it is still only the beginning.

Love, Michael/Ishmael

3/10/08 The naming! Hawk Mountain shelter (8.4 miles N of Springer)

I now call myself Ishmael. He was an orphan of the seas; I am on orphan of the woods. We have begun our journeys at the same time, embarking in to the nebulous world with only a vague vision of the world. But my voyage is what matters now—for I am in the present.

               After a sentimental parting with my mom and brother I set out on the great American footpath. I think that my throbbing excitement and curiosity carried me easily through the first day. Including the additional 0.9 mile hike south to Springer Mountain, I hiked 8.4 miles in about 4 hours, an excellent beginning time suitable to 20-mile days in the future. Meeting fellow thru-hikers brought about the same awkward anxiousness as the first day of school. In the beginning we gathered around the table with terse pieces of conversation before dinner. But after progressing past names and origins, it is interesting to discover people’s separate pasts. I have already forgotten most of the other’s trail names, but I was interested in a rambler called VooDoo, and an old weathered thru-hiker who told solemn stories of his hike. Hiking time is controlled by the sunlight. I have to adjust to early dinners and bedtimes. My fragmented thoughts include: gratefulness for Vaughn Thomas’ sleeping bag; assumptions that the men smoking outside right now will not make it to Katahdin. I now use my copy of Moby Dick as a pillow.”

               Love, Ishmael