TRAIL DAY 36
Sun, Mar 27, 2016 We did the ususal wake-up things: brushed teeth; made breakfast, packed up and we were off for day 36.
As I hiked out of the deep depression where I’d camped to the shelter and then passed it and up toward the trail, someone wished me:
“Happy Easter!”
“Oh, yea! Happy Easter to you, too.”
I was a little surprised at myself that I needed this reminder. It was a new day with new trail ahead and it was Easter. I was back in the woods, the judgments of the valley behind, mountain forests ahead. I was eager and happy.
AWOL tells me we started out with a 500′ descent followed by a 700′ climb to Mount Cammerer at 4950′. A (0.6W) hike off the AT led to a tower at the summit.
I don’t know where I first met Polar Bear (PB) but I remember him here and at many spots farther north. Polar Bear was perhaps in his late 20s with dark hair and a stocky build. He had an unusual kindness about him. While I tended to be blind to my age, he looked on my grey hair with respect and concern. He was actually worried about me and, in his way, as our paths crossed, looked out for me. He was up ahead of me on the way to the tower.
Once there I was hoping to make a call but I was without a phone. I asked PB if I could use his to call Medtek Mobile where I had sent mine from the NOC. He dialed for me and gave me his phone. I remember our discussing cell phones and cameras and observing that he seemed quite knowledgeable. In fact, he had worked in electronics or optics and knew his stuff. Several hundred miles farther on, I would learn that he listened regularly to his play list while hiking.
I forget what I learned from Eric at Medtek about my phone but I will never forget the kindness and solicitude of PB. I would be surprised many times by his interest in my welfare.
There was a day hiker at the Tower as well but, given the cell phone business I carried on with PB, he was a quiet presence. Soon PB, Theo and I made our way back the .6 miles to the turnoff for the Tower. I stopped for lunch at this intersection while the others moved on. It was noon, I was hungry and there were a good 8 miles to the Standing Bear Hostel which was a must-see stop on the trail.
There was a 6.5 mile descent from the Tower to the base of the mountain followed by a 300′ climb to a gravel road leading west to the Hostel. On the descent I saw some of the most extraordinary evidence of trail maintenance that I would ever see on the entire trail. I also experienced the glory of a single bloom amidst endless miles of dirt and leaves – and Trail Magic!
As we emerged from the woods at TN 32 and NC 284, we saw a parked car and a slight, balding white-haired Trail Angel sitting on a rock and welcoming hikers to help themselves to a table and cooler full of goodies. I remember the Angel telling us about the area and his thru-hike a year or so earlier. He was eager to show us a map of the region including the path of the AT. As I look at pictures from this time, I see people I remember well from later on at Hot Springs. They were “One Mile” and “Birdie.” It was One Mile I saw wearing the domed, wide-brimmed hat in the quiet sing-along group at the last campsite. PB was also enjoying Trail Magic here.
It’s fun piecing things together in retrospect.
A couple of miles later we crossed the Pigeon River Bridge and just as PB, One Mile and Birdie and I were about to pass under I 40, a white van pulled up and the driver asked if anyone wanted a ride to the shelter. Only Theo and I declined.
I had wanted to hike the Appalachian Trail since I was 14. I wanted to know when I finished that I hadn’t cut any corners. That I did what I set out to do. I didn’t want any niggling thoughts of not doing this or that section. I didn’t even want to “slack-pack” which involves leaving your pack at a hostel, having someone drive you up the trail so you could hike south with only a day pack and be met at a pre-determined point for return to the Hostel. The next day, you’d leapfrog to your southbound start from the day before and carry on northbound fully loaded.
Fine. If you want to do that, you’re in good company. I wanted to do the whole trail with my full gear. Some of us would even return to the trail from a shelter via the route we took to get to it instead of taking the occasional diagonal path to the trail at a point farther north. We wanted to know that our feet hadn’t missed a single step on the AT.
The AT had been on my bucket list long before the terms thru-hike or bucket list came into vogue and I wanted to be sure my bucket would be full to the brim with untainted memories – so precious was the gift of time and health to hike the trail at long last.
So Theo and I climbed the additional 0.8 miles to the gravel road that led another 0.2 miles to the Standing Bear Hostel. The Hostel was a grouping of about 5 buildings off to the right of the road at a left-turning bend. A little stream ran through the property beyond which were the owner’s house, then a store house of hiker foods available on the honor system. On the near side of the stream was a utility shed and a separate laundry building. In front of these was a sitting area with tables and a fire pit.
Beyond the laundry, working back toward the road, was the small, shed-like kitchen with a pizza oven and a freezer of pizzas which took 20 minutes to cook, one at a time. No matter how many hikers, get in line and wait. Parallel to the road were bunkhouses on the left and right. After them, a right turn took you between two out buildings. A left turn then took you past the privy on the right and out to an open yard and another fire pit where folks were hanging out drinking beer and quietly enjoying a campfire conviviality. Beyond the campfire was a large open lawn for cars and tents. Once again, I was probably the last person to set up camp.
There was a tall thin, unkempt guy with a tall knit hat and a long dark beard who tended to things around the hostel – sort of. Someone commented that he was busy.
“Oh, I get a lot of help from Johnnie Walker and Jim Beam,” was his response.
Again, it is a thrill now to recognize in my pictures people I remember on the trail. On review, I silently exclaimed:
“Oh! There’s Justice!”
She was at the dinner table in the kitchen talking with One Mile.
There had to be at least 30 hikers at Standing Bear that night. The kitchen and dining area was particularly busy and space was sparse. There were a few outlets around with a power strip to increase their utility. Modern thru-hikers gather around such outlets as they do at a fresh spring on a hot day. There were cell phones on a narrow sill and piled on the floor at the end of the table where you had to squeeze your way to a seat on the far side away from the door.
Soon it was my turn at the oven and a third of an hour later it was chow time! Time to harvest my pie.
“Harvest” is an appropriate word here. I was perhaps assuming that the oven shelf would stop as I pulled it out but it didn’t. I pulled and out came the entire shelf which then pivoted in my hand flipping my pizza onto the floor, face down, of course.
My pizza lay on old, creaky, wooden floorboards that have been tramped upon by hiking boots year after year, season after season and probably, on occasion, swept up. Even if the floor was swept daily, surely many boots had preceded me to the oven since I was one of the last to cook that night.
Remember now, I don’t waste. So, I just scooped ‘er up flipped ‘er over and sat down. I made my way past the cell phones and sat where Justice had been, with my back to the windows. I was looking over the table into the bustling kitchen scene as I ate my whole pizza.
I think we are sometimes too antiseptic. Sure, we don’t want harmful, lethal germs inside. But we can’t live without bacteria – our bodies need them. We couldn’t digest our food without them. I’m not opposed to some little critters from the floor, the ground or my dog entering me and doing their work.
As I ate my non-lethal pizza, I got acquainted with several hikers. “Lumpy” and his father both from Israel. I would learn hundreds of miles farther north that the dad took ill and had to go home. A note in AWOL tells me the redhead, Birdie, and her hiking companion were there. I noted, too, that 2.7 miles before Standing Bear, we had crossed the northern border of the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, 70.5 miles after its start. We had survived the first cloud of authority over us! I’m not a backwoods anti-federalist buried in the hills of Montana but it was nice to be out from under.
As I reflect on the Smokys, I realize that I left a few things out. I’ll note quickly that I never did see a ranger so I escaped a fine for my unleashed K9. I did, however, see two Ridge Runners, people who volunteer to cover a designated part of the trail just to be sure things are O.K., including hikers. They check on shelters and haul out the trash of abusive hikers. I am grateful to them as I remember an ad years ago of a Native American shedding a single and silent tear by the side of the road after a car drives by as an occupant throws a bag of trash out the window.
Well, the two Ridge Runners were very nice. Carl was the first. He said,
“You know, your dog’s supposed to be on a leash.”
“I know.”
“I’m not going to say anything but I can’t speak for the Rangers.”
It was raining out and Carl, in his 60s, had a very light weight translucent shell on. It looked neat and effective.
Some other hikers came along and conversation turned to the trail ahead. There were two shelters before the next climb and Carl recommended going to the more distant shelter because it was closer to the foot of the mountain which promised to be a difficult ascent. He said that way we’d be more rested for the effort it would take. I thought this good advice and followed it.
En route a day or so later I ran into the 2nd Ridge Runner, Cloe. She made the same comments about the dog but she did ask what he did for me as a service dog. I told her about the knee surgery, etc. She was in her mid-to-late 20s and very athletic, pretty and bright. All was well. And I never saw a Ranger!
No sooner had I finished my pizza than the owner lady came in with a huge supply of baked ham, potatoes and vegetables. I dug in as if I hadn’t eaten at all and then had seconds. No sooner had I finished my pizza and two baked ham dinners than owner lady arrived again with a huge serving dish of tapioca. I had at least three large servings.
I was a contented camper that night as I crawled in the tent with Theo. We even had some rain to make it all the cozier.
Day #36 Cosby Knob Shelter > Standing Bear Shelter 10.7 miles