[at-l] Stop Smoking Hike 2001/Trip Report

[janl2@mindspring.com (Jan Leitschuh)]

Hello,

        Back from Springer-to-Unicoi. Met a good group of people, most
of whom I didn't know before, who kept joking about the "ruck-on-foot."
We shared alot of hiking knowledge, and alot of laughs. Prolly some
germs and odors best left unmentioned too.

	It turned out there were eight of us, seven from the AT-L: me,
Linda(Hummingbird) and husband Jan (Dutch Treat) Benshop, Clyde
Dodge(landscaper from Florida) who was gonna thru this year and
postponed it until next year due to a daughter's wedding, Clyde's 30-ish
nephew Steve, David Addleton, (who smoked the last cig in his pack on
top of Springer in a monsoon") and Russ Dade from (now) SC. Our fearless
leader was Pittsburgh, who proposed the thing and laid out a sample
itinerary.

        And where did the monsoons come from? It was a rather soggy
week, with only two days with no rain (at the end).

        It started when I was supposed to meet David, at some obscure RV
campground on a road that didn't even
show up on my map. David couldn't remember the name of the RV place, but
it was "right there"...

        After fishing around small roads for an hour, thinking bad
thoughts, I
found a local southern ANGEL who drove me right to the turn-off. I asked
for her name and she shyly said "Dolly..." When I pressed her for a last
name, she smiled and said "Parton - but not the real one." She looked
real enough to me! I thanked her heartily.

        When I sorted out the various RV campgrounds, of which there
were
legion, I got there an hour late - and no David! He had been adamant
about wanting
to spend the night on Springer's summit. Had I been left? 

        It was already 7PM, so I fiddled and repacked my gear, not
knowing if
my week was going to be a solo or with the small group as planned. With
barn help hired for a week, I sure wasn't going home! Wasn't even sure
how to find the Forest Service road that led to Springer, but was
determined to go somehow and worry about my car later. I figured I'd
have to run into the group sooner or later.

        Finally, David shows up at 8:30PM, all apologies for Atlanta's
head-banging traffic. On the way to the FS 42, it begins to rain -
sprinkles, then hard, then harder, then torrential. Hard to see the
road! No summit tonite, as we adjusted to fit the situation.
        
        After a long winding drive, we arrived at the lot at the base of
Springer Mountain at 10:30 PM. Linda and Jan were already there,
sleeping in their van. They extended their sympathies thru a
small slit window, and went back to sleep! 

        In the dark, in the rain, David and I  found a reasonable
tentsite for
two tarps. This was my first attempt at tarping. Ummmm,
I was also experimenting with a 45-degre DOWN bag, prolly not the
smartest gear test combo...but there it was.

        Okay, I have this little thing about being as independent as
possible,
maybe there's a tiny little chip there, but I will say this night I was
GRATEFUL to have an experienced tarper along. David had a real easy
energy, not pushy with his knowledge so I confessed my virtual tarp
ignorance and he came up with a plan. 

        We dashed out of the car and set his tarp up high between two
trees (he
sleeps in a hammock) and then dashed back and stowed our gear under the
(relatively) dry space. There, I fished out my raingear and tarp, and
with the two of us keeping it from sailing off into the wind, we got it
(the tarp, not the raingear) staked down in surprisingly short order.
(That silnylon is amazing stuff, and sheds rain like a duck's back). 

        Turns out I had set one end in a bed of poison ivy, to which I
am more
than mildy allegic! So, with a yellow photon in my mouth (was
experimenting with leaving the headlamp home too...), in the dark, in
the driving rain, in the poison ivy, I went out again and tried to reset
my tarp and did it rather badly. I lost the taut ridgeline, and tried to
set my stick in a way to discourage water collection (of which there was
also an abundance). Let me tell you, photons suck for this, maybe it was
the color - a friend's white light seemed much brighter.

        I had trouble with that pole all night, it was not well anchored
and
kept tipping over. As I struggled with these things and said many bad
words in my head, I kept thinking: " Take the Trail as you find it,
not as you wish it to be..." It really did help me let down and remember
why I was out there. Acceptance is an amazing tool, maybe the best thing
in the backpack.

        Once out of the driving rain, I set up shop. I had said I was
also experimenting with a space blanket as a groundcloth this week, and
so Idid, despite naysayers. It held up surprisingly well, and I will do
it again. Light, cheap, reflective - just don't expect to fold it back
down the way it came! I groomed the sites a little, but that was all.
Many told me it wouldn't work, but I couldn't find anyone who had
actually tried it. It worked for me for the week, and has life left in
it..

        I was also a little nervous about the ends of the tarp, one of
which
was set down a bit against the weather's blow. I was shielded from the
direct rain, but still exposed to a certain amount of spray. It was
a'stormin'! I believe - had I had the light and the time to determine
from which way the wind was blowing - I could have done a better job,
but even a hastily-erected shelter kept the rain at bay. 

        I debated about putting a trash bag over the foot end of the
down bag -I'd been warned about condensation - but in the end decided
the tiny
amount of sweat from my bony feet and legs wouldn't outweigh the
blown-in spray. In the morning, someone came by and said "Oh, just like
Ray Jardine." Ah well, innovative minds...

        When I finally got snugged into the cozy down bag, I found I
really, really liked the tarp. It was like sitting on the porch watching
the rain. I liked hearing the rain come down and seeing it drip from
local bushes. I didn't sleep much that night, due to the novelty of the
situation (and that pole falling down continually!).

        I also learned I need a transition period. No point in rushing
the change over from civilization girl to woods dweller. The thing just
takes time. Each time, for example, I notice again how it takes awhile
to become accustomed to being sweaty and dirty. And that, I learned, is
to be expected.
        There is more to tell, but it will have to come out in dribs and
drabs. Some "snapshots":
	
- The Provent rain jacket ( a cheaper Frog-Togg) gets two thumbs and two
toes up. Because it has body of its own, it never transferred the colder
"sky water" chill to my skin the way a nylon suit might, and I found it
pretty breathable as these things go. Hiked in it alot!

- The New Balance 804s were a complete hit with me. My feet feel great.
This is the first pair of footwear I can gush about unreservedly. Dried
quickly, stood up to rocks, cushy on the feet, no toe jam. One toe
bumper has a little separation, which i will fix with shoe goo.

- I loved the tarp, in final analysis (no bugs out), and LOVE the 13 oz.

- Loved that Campmore down 45-degree bag too, which was borrowed. Does
anyone know a better alternative? If not, I'm gonna get me one. Light!
Cozy too.

- We had immense quanitities of rain, yet hiked every day and covered
the entire terrain. It turned out to be a different hike because of the
rain, and because we had two vehicles "leapfrogging" the gaps. This
meant some days we just said #%&$ it and hiked without packs (because we
could), and two nights (such as the day Clyde blew out his knee) when we
just said #$%! it, lets go to Goose Creek and dry out for the night. My
god, a hot shower and a flush toilet are miracles of science!

- We had a running joke that started on the first real day of hiking
(after we had all gathered at Hickory Flats the night before and yogi-ed
all sorts of treats from a dear child and her father...)(I think Clyde,
the heart attack survivor, begged TWO hamburgers...). 
I was a little nervous about hiking with all these guys (Linda being the
only other girl) because I was worried I would be eating their dust all
day. 
So I started out about 15 minutes ahead of Clyde and his nephew Steve.
As I passed a bunch of guys at Hawk Mountain shelter, we passed a little
banter back and forth. When Clyde caught me, not five minutes later, he
said "Man, those guys asked if we were hiking with a lady, and when we
said yes, they said "well, she was smoking you, she's over 30 minutes
ahead!" 
We had a good laugh over that, but whenever our group got strung out,
the lead hiker would always pass word back via a southbounder that he or
she was "30 minutes ahead." This became a running joke for the week, and
was scratched into the Trail dirt along with arrows, left in shelter
registers, notes, etc. Somehow along the line, it got stretched into
forty minutes.
Maybe you needed to be there...

- We tumbled into Gooch gap shelter exhausted one night (Russ could
barely move at that point, he was sitting slack-jawed with weariness and
Cliff Bar poisoning...).
 And who comes up the Trail but our vanners Linda and Jan, lugging a
heavy-**s grill and a ton of hamburger meat. They cooked burgers on the
spot, and I think Clyde, who claims to have a real mean Vietnamese
cardiologist, ate five. Those were scarfed gratefully, and Russ
graciously squirted his isopropyl alcohol on the burger juice left on
the shelter floor, since we didn't care to wave a red flags for bears -
hey, Joe's Diner here...
Crammed cheek to jowl in the shelter, Russ snored beside me all night
and suffered several broken ribs from  my attempts to silence the noise.
At one point it was actually the guy beside HIM that was making the
snores (hey, I ASSUMED) but Russ kindly passed it along. The other guy
was giving it to Russ from that side too, so he's prolly in traction by
now.

- David, who in the throes of nicotine withdrawal, had every reason to
be a cranky camper, kept a quiet ease that amazed all around. He ate a
ton of Ricola candies all week, and claimed to feel marvelous by the end
of the week. "I feel better," he claimed. "I can taste better, I can
smell better. Hell, I can even SEE better!"

- Pittsburgh, who was trying to wheel mileages for ACCURATE Trail data
(like, how many steps to the neaest privy), actually gave up his knee
braces (worn to support shattered kneecaps) to Clyde! I swear!
 Clyde only missed one day of hiking and I believe he would have gone
that day if Pittsburgh hadn't secured him to the cabin table with bear
bag rope. Anyway, the zero day did some healing, and Pitts' braces did
the rest as Clyde gimped on.

- And yes, we ate at the AYCE place in Hiawasee our "wet night #2" in
(the first night Pittsburgh sprang for pizza), and also devoured a
wickedly high cholesterol breakfast, with several of us snapping photos
of Clyde's sausage-gravy-and biscuits. He said defiantly that if we used
it for blackmail (his wife is a nurse) that he would claim it was
oatmeal and a fat-free muffin...

- Our hiking group shrank from 8 to 4 as injuries, rain and the need to
remain employed took their toll. One day, the day over Blood Mountain,
only David and I hiked, beacuse I was obsessed with doing the entire
mileage, rain or no. It rained the whole way up, (Really like that stone
shelter up there by those huge boulders, its all cleaned up. Don't know
why people think its so creepy) and when we stopped to eat at the top,
it stopped and the sun came out.  Then we packed up and started down, it
started raining again. Go figure.

- Met the rest of the crowd at Walasi-Yi, now named Mountain Crossings?
It was a great gear store, and I bought a guidebook (Waterfall, I saw a
white berry called Doll's Eyes - in the Rannunculus family - on a
magenta stem), and a great big orange juice, which tasted amazingly
good. Russ bailed at this point because he could hardly walk and
besides, it was his anniversary. He left us with a load of his hated
Cliff bars. (Russ, you were right, they were awful).

- The groups mission and itinerary kept adjusting to fit the situation,
and I am grateful to all for pushing on the Blue Mountain shelter that
last night. This week really did alot for my hiking confidence, as I was
a little concerned about keeping up. But I discovered I am a strong
hiker and can hold my own. It was really the first time i had hiked with
others, and while it changed the nature of the hike for me (I found
myself craving to walk alone part of each day), but it worked out fine,
mainly because everyone was so easy.
I had to do a jackrabbit start that last morning, and pittsburgh
gallantly went down the mountain early so i wouldn't have to hitch
alone...I stubbornly refused to stand still on the road and wait for a
hitch, but pressed on...somehow, David and Clyde got a hitch before we
did, proving Pitsburgh's point, and passed us. Somehow, Clyde had
yogi-ed a sausage biscuit, looked like...

- Anyway, where to stop? Here, I guess. I know the others will correct
my lies and fill in the gaps. 
Good luck David, on your continued abstinenece. i know reetry will be
the real test.

- I do want to speak about Springer at some point. A pretty amazing
encounter. Some other time.
Best,
Jan in NC


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    Jan Leitschuh Sporthorses Ltd.

http://www.mindspring.com/~janl2

E-mail:  mailto:janl2@mindspring.com

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