1/4 to ME: Top Three Spots to Brush Your Teeth

1/4 GA > ME Sign, Mile 550

Finally. This blessed sign. One by one, I’ve watched my friends arrive here and push on. I am insanely proud of them. I know that hundreds of other thru-hikers this year have already touched this sign and kept marching. What a unifying thrill to kiss the spot where so many have breathed a sigh of relief or whooped a cheer of accomplishment. 

Here’s a peek into my brain. 

I would like to say that growing up, I enjoyed math. Sometimes, when I find myself really bored, I will do long division problems in my head as I stumble down the trail. I learned this about myself while training for a marathon a few years ago. I don’t run or walk with earbuds, so it can get pretty quiet up there. A recent favorite is multiplying the miles to find out how many kilometers I am walking each day. I also find that fractions and percentages are helpful for me, mentally. If I know there is a hill that’s about a 1,500ft climb, spread over 2 miles, I assume it’s going to take me about an hour. Instead of relentlessly checking my phone to view my progress on the map, I will look at my watch and determine what percentage I have completed timewise. Walking for 20 minutes? Likely 1/3 of the way there. It’s weird, I know. But there are stranger ways to keep yourself going. 

All that to say- arriving at a long-expected sign with a beautiful fraction on it marking my actual progress forward? SO exciting for me. And before I get voted the most melancholy author on the Trek, I would love to share some highlights of the last 550 miles. 

Here are the top three places I’ve brushed my teeth:

Now, if you know me, you know I’m not really a morning person. I really am a night owl. But one thing I have learned about myself (out here) is that I will do a lot to catch some sunrise views. In fact, most of my favorite moments on the trail so far involve a sunrise.

#1 Charlie’s Bunion, Great Smoky Mountains National Park 

My friend Jenna and I discovered this spot during a spring break road trip our last semester of college. The views of rolling mountains off the edge of a rocky cliff were stunning then, and I was STOKED to see them again. The day hike was an 8 mile out and back from Newfound Gap. It was my first time stepping on the AT since early childhood, and I prayed to God that I could hike it myself. We even got to talk to real live thru-hikers. I was enthralled. 

This time, my friends and I tent around Icewater Spring Shelter, only a mile from the blue blaze. The night before, I try to recruit them to join me for the 4:40AM wake up call, but by the time I leave camp, I am walking alone by the light of my headlamp. Content to share the morning with the birds, I walk with a deep sense of calmness and peace. This turns to a thrill of joy when I veer off trail to walk the short path to the rocks. The horizon glows as the sky just starts to take on color. I scramble over the rocks to settle myself on the edge of the cliff to watch the sky open up.

Over the next hour, I watch the sun peek its head above the horizon, illuminating the valley of evergreen trees below. I am in awe. I am also hungry, so I eat a bagel with Nutella. And then I get ready for the day: wash my face, push the flyaways out of my eyes, and of course, brush my teeth.

By this time, my friends are slowly arriving and loosing their minds over the view, so I climb up the rocks above and behind the overlook for a new vantage point. I just can’t get enough of it.

#2 Grassy Ridge Bald, Roan Highlands, NC

We’re over a month in. We’ve missed the renowned views on Blood Mountain and Max Patch due to fog and rain. My friend Carly is adamant that she will see the Roan Highlands in all their glory. There’s a storm said to come in a few days, so we pack in a couple of extra miles each day to make it there before the rain. We roll into at Carvers Gap after 4pm (a normal quitting time for us). Realizing what lies just ahead, we determine to camel up and push through another 2.5 miles to Grassy Ridge Bald. At 6,164ft, this half mile blue blaze takes you to the highest natural peak along the AT. 

We set up our tents on the open bald and take it all in: a 360° degree view of rolling mountains to the east (North Carolina) and west (Tennessee). After finishing our dinner, we perch on the rocks to watch the sun set behind Roan Mountain- which we had summited earlier that afternoon.

My friend Hiawassee and I sleep without our rain flys and watch the stars come out, filling the sky with their endless sparkling multitudes. I vividly remember waking with a start at 1:30AM to see the moon rise over the eastern horizon- dazzling and huge. 

By 6AM, we are up and at the eastern edge of the bald, waiting for the sun to come up. Clouds had settled like a sea over the mountains, moving like waves across the tops. My friend Lee calls this the undercast, when you are above the clouds. Light breaks forth as the sun emerges from the cloudy sea, piercing the open sky. It is even more magnificent and colorful than sunset the night before. Again, I am peacefully breathtaken, in awe of this beauty and the One who paints the skies. 

Cozy in my sleeping bag, I eat a peanut butter tortilla wrap and brush my teeth before heading back to our campsite to pack up. We got to see the Roans in all their glory, and it was so worth it. 

#3 Grayson Highlands, Southern Virginia

Another long-anticipated highlight on the AT, I arrive at the Grayson Highlands just after passing the nobo’s 500 mile mark. It is known as the land of wild ponies, but little did I realize how beautiful and raw the landscape itself would be. I camp near a bear box in a large open space dotted with cow paddies and short evergreens. From my tent, I can see rocky peaks. This is when I start to get excited. I fall asleep under a cloudless sky, wondering how far I will have to walk for a view of the sunrise. 

I wake with a start at 5:34AM. The sky is already beginning to lighten, so I hasten to change my clothes, pack up my tent, and retrieve my bear bag. Within 23 minutes, I am back on trail. I had forgotten to tie my shoes, but at this point, I can see the color edging the horizon and am too intent on not missing the sunrise to stop and tie them. When I finally break through the trees, I exhale in relief and laugh in delight. I didn’t miss it! The edge of the sky is breaking out in color, but the sun has not yet emerged. 

Pressing on, I discover the rocky bluffs of the highlands. Climbing up to a spot with an unobstructed view, I settle myself on a flat rock to watch. It is not a moment too soon, as not even five minutes after sitting down does the sun peek its head above the horizon. Believe it or not, I can also see ponies in the valley below. The wind is harsh, my throat is dry, goosebumps cover my legs, and hunger gnaws at my stomach, but all I feel is pure elation at the sight. 

I linger for an hour, filling up my camera roll with play by plays of the sun inching its way into the sky. It is too windy to light my stove for oatmeal, so I pair a cinnamon raisin bagel with some peanut butter for breakfast. Once again, I brush my teeth as the colors mellow out and the sun moves up through a gentle blue sky. 

Who knew that I would become such a sunrise junkie?? There’s just something sacred about it. Don’t get me wrong; I am not waking up every morning to watch the sun slide into my edge of the globe (yet), but when I do, I don’t regret it. The calmness of my soul just before dawn is grounding. The joy I feel as I welcome the sun is matchless.

I’m also suddenly realizing that these are all kind of blue blazes? I promise that is not intentional. But man, there is a lot of beauty that the trail leads you right up to. You just get to choose if you’ll walk to the edge to see it. In my experience, it’s generally worth it.