Footprints in the Snow

I wish I could express all of the harboured emotions from the last three days, but only now that I can feel my fingers can I write it all down.
After being pampered by a visit from my mom and brother in Hampton, Tennessee, I set out into the most abysmal weather I have yet seen. A spontaneous cold snap settled over the ridgeline between Wautaga Lake and Damascus, Virginia, blanketing a 50 mile stretch with thick snow. All of Sunday and Monday I walked through dense snowfall, hidden from the sunshine, my tracks hidden by the constant accumulation. I spent the nights shivering, wishing I hadn't sent home my zero-degree sleeping bag.
I came to a clearing in the ridgeline yesterday to look at the horizon, only to be terrified by the sky. I had seen mist before, but truly the sky was nothing but a dense veil of charcoal colored clouds. There was no depth, no shading- just an opaque shroud of snow. I was really scared.
But then I realized that the weather is a thoughtless, feelingless force- neither here to win nor lose. It has no sympathy, pride or malice, and to be scared of it is to be scared of nothing. I hiked with a braver step after thinking about this, occasionally yelling 'suck a duck' from the top of the ridgeline, or other phrases. Walking into Damascus today was like walking into a different season.

Erwin, Tennessee

As I trudged up the steeply graded Bald Mountain in the relentless rain, only dismal thoughts clouded my mind. In those conditions, it is hard to justify a two mile climb. But once I broke through the treeline the rain stopped, and once I reached the summit the clouds parted, leaving nothing but a panorama of the boundless horizon. Just when it seems I am at the pit of misery, ready to fling curses at the world, fate teaches me that there is beauty in every angle of the world. Now I have come 70 miles from Hot Springs, and 338 miles from the beginning- a long way to trudge with new eyes.
For practical advice, never hike with sunburn on your back.

Hot Springs, North Carolina

I reached Hot Springs today, the first city directly on the Appalachian Trail. Tonight I am staying at the Sunnybank Inn Hostel, a Victorian Home converted by a radical vegetarian into a hiker haven. I have already completed my work-for-stay: cutting tree stumps out of the ground and tilling garden soil. I am hiking with three guys from Masachusetts: Furniture, Fish and Free Hugs. We are all enjoying the luscious appearance of spring in this little town, and taking advantage of good food. Appreciate the things around you which you might overlook: the sunshine, laughter, and clean fingernails.

more photos...

                                            Hot dogs from a Trail Angel                                 

                                         "Chunky Gal Trail"              

Photos... disposable camera sent home.

                                               Looking good, a little scruffy!                                        

                                                              Crazy trail friends.
                                            The tree that marks the GA/NC border.

3/22/08 Cable Gap Shelter (156 miles N of Springer, 15 miles today)

The hike only follows a more thrilling and adventurous direction every day. Today’s terrain was brutal at times but overall nondescript. It was enhanced by good companionship along the way. I have joined Fish, Furniture and Free Hugs, three restless craftsmen from New England. They are both optimistic and insightful and full of great wit. I also met Beavis and Dog who on every superficial level appear to be shiftless drifters, but truthfully warm people. I finally caught up to Steak N’ Shake, whose legend proceeds him. He is a homeless vagabond who has journeyed the country on bike and he claims he was given inspiration by God to hike the trail. He began with no more than $3 in his pocket and claims it is God’s will that has aided his hike and survival this long. I am skeptical of the God has had any role in his journey, especially if the meals he obtains are solicited from kind people, after he informs them that he is too poor to buy food. But it raises a worthy question on the role of fate within humanity. Are we fragmented, bumbling animals, stumbling through the universe, or are our actions dominated by a greater order?

               On a lighter note, it is warm enough not to wear socks!

3/21/08 Sassafras Gap Shelter (141 miles N of Spring, 18 miles today)

The moon shines bright tonight and the air is warm. I think I am greeted with good fortune on this first day of Spring. Last night I was too frigid and desolate to even scrawl in my journal. Though the day was beautiful, the bleak night practically froze my spirits.

               Yesterday I experienced unprecedented trail magic from a man named Apple who maintains a fifteen-man tent with permanent hot dog service.  I indulged on a bun. Previous to that I stayed in Franklin, which was an excellent supply of amenities. It was wonderful to rest my bones and blisters in the midst of a violent storm.

               Today I practically punished my body with excessive ambitions but I rewarded my mind. I trekked all the way from Cold Spring Shelter to NOC (12 miles) to discover the capitalist siphon of outdoor markets. I pushed past the temptations to a climb I was unprepared for, but of course was greeted with the warm hospitality of the shelter crowd. Right now I cannot elaborate but must conquer weariness. I anticipate a late breakfast feast tomorrow.