A Tale of Travel

Leaving the Home of the Colossi

This journey has taken us through some high elevations and tall climbs. We have crossed the highest point on the Trail at Kuwohi(formerly Clingman’s Dome). 

Throughout the day, we will climb into the clouds just to descend back to the valleys. One day, a helicopter was flying by; it was loud, so I knew it was near. Finally, I saw it and I was on eye level or even slightly higher than the passing helicopter. This was an interesting perspective to have.

Our elevation maps resemble mountains(naturally), but I can’t help but feel they also represent my heart rate throughout the day. Sometimes the climbs are long and sometimes short, but they are almost always tall. 

We have observed topographical maps, and it appears we will be approaching more reasonable terrain soon. 

The Borderlands

We have been making our way through NC and TN. We left Georgia and the Trail started with a dash into NC and then eventually snaked along the border of the two states. At the end, the trail lashes out into TN as it guides into VA. 

Entering the Land of the Giants

I have arrived in Virginia. 

Rumor has it the trail is about to get much easier. A cursory glance at the maps seems to suggest this as well. There are still climbs, but the map resembles plateaus more than it does heartbeats. This looks encouraging to me!

Accomplishment

I know some people have doubted I would press on in this journey and make it this far. I think this is mostly due to my size. Ironically, this is the least difficult part. The mental side is much harder. 

There are times it feels overwhelming and discouraging. There are cold, windy, and rainy days. In fact, there have been weeks that fit that description. 

We wake in the morning and put on our cold, dripping wet clothes. We wrap our leukotape on our sore blistered feet before putting our muddy, wet socks on and slipping into our soggy shoes. Then we go out into the pouring rain. We slide in the mud, step in puddles, and slip on wet roots and rocks as we walk for hours. 

Yet we smile. We laugh and tell stories and jokes and share in the joy of this journey.

We also complain, moan, and swear as we share in the struggle. Yet we press on. At any time, we could stop and go back home, but we haven’t.

The wave I am with has backpacked from GA to VA. Though we have far to go, we have come far, and it has been a hard-earned victory. 

Erwin, TN to Damascus, VA

This leg of the journey was quick, and we were moving along. That said, there were eventful moments. 

We crossed a river on a ferry. 

We ate lunch on a remote roadside on a cold and rainy day. The weather was testing our morale, and we were beginning to pack our things to hit the trail again. 

Then we hear the crunch of tires on the gravel road. From the fog in the distance, a white van covered in stickers approaches us; a large smiley face above the windshield mocks us as it draws near. We accepted our fate that not all of us might escape this encounter. 

As the van gets closer, one of us recognizes the driver as the Legendary Trail Angel: Miss Janett, who arrived with drinks and food to lift our mood!

We crossed mile 400. 

Splitting the Party

We stayed a night at the Black Bear Resort and we split the party. 

Fresh, Take-Out, and I watched Pulp Fiction. It was Fresh and I’s first time watching it. I don’t think I could tell someone what it’s about, and whether or not I liked it. But it was a movie. 

Take-Out and Sauce stayed up watching movies the rest of the night. Unsurprisingly, they didn’t feel well in the morning and stayed an extra day. Fresh and I pushed on and reached Watauga Lake and crossed the Dam. 

But we would split the party again. 

I also met the Youtuber, The Hiking Rev here. I had watched a random video back when I was planning this trip and I recognized him by his voice.

The Journey of Those Left Behind

Take-Out and Sauce later explained they joined with a group called Riff Raff, who were set up at mile 420. This is a rowdy group that likes to party, as you might imagine, based on where they set up. 

They had lots of free food and free slackpacking. The group offers a lot to the hikers and are interested in having a great time and making it fun for everyone around them. They are a bit lively for my dull tastes, however. 

So our layabouts slackpacked and caught back up to us after a couple of days of rest and real food.

Plaguewalker

One night at camp, a hiker woke around 1130pm. They felt a bubbling in their stomach and an uncomfortable feeling in their throat. 

Letting out a moan, they rolled from their bed and slipped into their flip flops. They step out into the fog and rain. Everything is bathed in red from the light on their headlamp. Struggling to see, they stumble in the woods, slipping on roots and mud. They were like an infected person in a zombie movie hiding their symptoms. 

Gross Bypass: for squeamish folk

The hiker stumbles into a tree and shakes water from the leaves above that showers down on them. With another groan, they coat the forest in front of them with vomit, as a dragon would coat a village in fire. 

Moaning again, they stumble forward to dig their cathole, which they plan to use to bury their stool. After digging their hole, they drop their shorts and squat. Like a dragon breathing fire from the wrong end, they coat the forest in a two-foot cone behind them in a soupy discharge. 

The cathole could be used for paper, but the watery mess was hopeless to try and bury. Hopefully, the rain would wash it away. 

End of Gross Bypass: Return of the Squeamish

Groaning, they stagger back to bed, where they would awake and repeat this process throughout the night. 

I was this hiker and had gotten Norovirus while on the Trail at a shelter. I was in a hammock and isolated from the group. 

The following day, I quarantined and slept the day away. I couldn’t bring myself to eat anything and could barely keep water down. 

Fresh pressed on, and I would eventually catch up to him and the others at Damascus.

The next day, I set out, but struggled to eat and was very weak. This continued as I made my way to Damascus. Everything in my pack made me wretch to think about, so I was hungry. Fortunately, there was a lot of trail magic that I was able to bring myself to eat.

I was surprised to run into Holiday and his companion, Swamply, on the way to Damascus. I hadn’t seen him since Franklin, NC, at mile 110, so this was a pleasant surprise. They too had gotten sick and were recovering. The two yellow-blazed up to make it to trail days since they lost about a week being sick. 

They are hiking with a German couple named Ranger and Chewy, who are a blast to be around too!

I hiked with them to Damascus, where we arrived in time for Trail Days!