[at-l] A year ago today . . .

[spur@mac.com (Spur)]

. . . I was on the GA Pinhoti Trail, 10 days from completing
my hike from Springer to Cap Gaspe, then Flagg Mtn, AL 
back to Springer.

11/12/00
Today's starting location: Tentsite in thicket near Coosa, GA
Destination: Tentsite, Taylor Ridge 1M N of Jenkins Gap, GA 
Today's Miles: 20
Trip Miles: 3078

It's cold again and I don't want to unzip my sleeping bag. I roll over
and slumber a bit more. When finally it's light out, I manage to get
up and fix breakfast, pack up and hit the road.

In less than half a mile there's a store, two actually. I stop at the
first and try sending off 5 days of journal entries. Bingo, they go
with ease. I duck in the store's restroom and clean up a bit as it's
now been 6 days' hiking since the last shower.

This store has a breakfast grill but it's closed on Sundays. Darn.
Thought I was gonna get bacon and eggs.

Instead I buy some sliced turkey to spice up lunch and some sliced
chicken to add to the dinner noodles. I refill water, pack up and
head out.

It's a quick 3 miles up Huffaker Road to an abandoned railway
bed, now known as the Simms Mtn Rail Trail. Hunters' gunfire
rings out left and right as I walk, glad that I'm wearing an orange
vest. Sounds like they're shooting target practice.

I pass a dead rabbit on the side of the road as I walk, likely struck
by a car. It's sad. I've seen only one other rabbit so far this month,
and he was far off. I stop and play on my harmonica a mournful
Camp Town Races as a musical eulogy for the departed rabbit. Of
all the songs I know, this seems to be the rabbits' favorite.

Later I see a young deer on the road, also struck by a car. This is
sad also, but I don't play a tune. Deer never seem interested when I
play my harmonica, not the way rabbits are.

I turn left on the rail trail and walk a fast 12 miles, stopping
midway around 12:30 PM for a quick lunch. A little later I meet 3
horseback riders, one of whom explains why there's so much
shooting. It's Doe Day in Georgia, the one day each year a hunter
can legally kill a doe. Guess it thins the herd a bit.

Further on I pass the skinned carcasses of two deer lying in the
railway bed, though their skins are lying nearby. It's grisly. I can't
fathom why they're here like this, but I don't stop to try to figure it
out.

I decide to switch to the road the last mile before the trail takes off
up the ridge, concerned I may have to walk through leased hunting
land otherwise. It's not a good day to be mingling with the deer
population.

I find the trailhead, well-marked at a large parking lot. A
well-graded trail takes me up Taylor Ridge. The trail guide says
there are 2 intermittent streams the first mile. Today they're dry
beds of rock. Looks like the water I'm carrying will be all the water
I'll have till I come down off this ridge.

The trail joins an old forest road near the ridgecrest, then follows
it along the top of the ridge. I'm moving fast because darkness is
not far away.

I pass a sidetrail which leads down to Sloppy Floyd State Park,
named for one of Georgia's distinguished politicians. I walk a little
further, then pitch a dry camp in fading light on the edge of the trail 
after a 20-mile day.

I check my water and find I have just over a quart left, enough for
dinner plus a little to get started with tomorrow morning. There's
another intermittent stream in 6 miles, and a more reliable one 6
miles further on. I'll be skipping breakfast tomorrow till after I find 
some more water.

-Spur