Day 5 SASH #10: Dockery Lake Trail Campsite to Woods Hole Shelter, GA – Foggy Mountain Breakdown

“The grey rain-curtain of this world rolls back, and all turns to silver glass, and then you see it. White shores, and beyond, a far green country under a swift sunrise.” Gandalf, Lord of the Rings, J.R.R. Tolkien

2 April – I awoke around 7am to another chilly misty morning. I did not sleep well. I didn’t even bother to inflate my leaking air mattress last night; so, I was restless trying to find a spot that didn’t hurt my right hip. Today’s goal was 8.8 miles to Bull Gap campsite and to make Neel Gap and the Mountain Crossings Outfitter before they closed at 5pm. (I still needed to replace my sleeping pad.) Blood Mountain stood between me and my plan. My hip was painful enough that I had doubts. Nevertheless, I got packed up fairly quickly and took the time to make hot coffee and have my usual Clif Bar breakfast. It wasn’t raining, but the forecast showed that wet weather was on the way. While drinking my coffee sitting on a log, an Air Force C-130 cargo aircraft surprised me by flying directly over the campsite at treetop level! I assumed it was on a landing approach to the airstrip at the nearby Army Ranger Camp Merrill. Earlier in the section hike, we were entertained during the evening by blank automatic weapons fire from Rangers training near Hawk Mountain and Gooch Mountain shelters.

US Army Ranger Camp Merrill via Dahlonega.org

I was on the trail by 8am, heading north with my thoughts on Blood Mountain’s reputation. Shortly after the Lance Creek campsite turn-off, Tree caught up to me on a short climb above the creek hollow. We chatted for a bit; his plan was to get to Neel Gap and take a break from the trail into Blairsville. He also told me that a friend left a cooler of beer for him at Mountain Crossings and invited me to share some if I arrived before 4pm to Neel Gap. This certainly was motivation, but in the back of my mind I was starting to wonder how my hip was going to handle Blood Mountain. And then it started to rain, a cold rain. I let Tree cruise ahead and realized that it was likely the last time we would share time on the trail.

Fog Shrouded Blood Mountain (from Flatrock Gap)

The ascent from Lance Creek to Jarrard Gap is gradual, but long. The rain continued and the wind picked up considerably. I was wet, cold, and the pain in my right hip was now constant. It had taken me almost two hours to go three miles. I started to consider my options. The two key factors: my hip pain and Blood Mountain. I could push on with the plan and probably not reach Mountain Crossings before they close at 5pm. Even if I was successful, I doubted if it was wise to continue on trail two more days to Unicoi Gap where Nightingale would meet me to end this section. I limped into Jarrard Gap. The fog was so thick it was difficult to see any white blazes across the dirt road. I walked over to sit on a log at the campsite and check FarOut. Another hiker came up the trail and asked if I knew where the trail continued; I did not yet as I was waiting for the GPS to load. He started down a path away from the campsite. Lucky for him, I discovered that the trail continued behind me and I called out for him to come back. Jarrard Gap was more like a wind tunnel than a mountain trail. The cold rain continued. I noted that Woods Hole Shelter was only another mile and a half. I made my decision. I did not know what plans Nightingale had for herself, but I texted her to see if she could pick me up at Neel Gap the next day instead of Unicoi Gap in two days. I decided I would go to Woods Hole Shelter, rest my hip a few extra hours this afternoon and spend the night to be ready for Blood Mountain tomorrow. Nightingale confirmed she would meet me at Neel Gap tomorrow by 1pm.

At the Blue Blaze intersection to Woods Hole Shelter there are several great campsites. From FarOut, I knew the spring was .2 miles down the Blue Blaze and the shelter another .2 miles. Why would anyone build the shelter .4 miles away from the trail when right here was space enough for a shelter and tent sites? The Blue Blaze to Woods Hole hugs the ridge above a deep hollow. And I was thinking, they must have had a really good reason to want to carry all the materials for a shelter back along this narrow trail. I came to the spring; however where it flowed across the trail, it was dry. This was not a good sign since it had been raining for days. A more encouraging sign pointed to the spring uphill away from the trail. Here I found a small flow coming out of the ground into a shallow pool. Fortunately, I was able to fill my CNOC bag (thankful for the open bottom) with a liter and a half by dunking it in the pool. I scooped the remainder of the bag full with a small silicone cup I carry for this purpose. It was so foggy in the “woods hole” hollow that I was almost on top of the bear box at the shelter before I could even see it beside the trail. And from there, I could only barely make out where the shelter was standing. I was somewhat glad the shelter was empty; it was 1pm and I could maybe spend a few hours of quiet time before anyone might arrive for the night.

Woods Hole Shelter, GA

Quiet time lasted only as long as it took for me to set up inside the shelter and hang some things to see if they might dry a bit. Jessie and her dog, Stella, arrived as I was eating a bag of dried cherries for lunch. From Atlanta, Jessie was out for an overnight as a “shakedown” for an upcoming trip with her partner to the 100 Mile Wilderness in Maine. Jessie and Stella were on their first ever backpacking trip. Within the hour, we had another shelter mate, Lynn, a thru hiker from Rhode Island. This would be the complete odd little band for the night at chilly and foggy Woods Hole Shelter. Except for an startling visit by a rather odd Ridge Runner. Jessie and Stella were behind the shelter setting up her hammock. Lynn was off to the privy. My head was stuck somewhere inside the shelter searching for my water filter in my pack. Then a loud voice came from under the shelter’s overhang, practically yelling “hello!” I suppose I should only blame myself for letting the Ridge Runner sneak up on me, but I certainly was startled by the stealth arrival and booming greeting. The Ridge Runner seemed cheerful enough, but something just seemed to be off-putting. I won’t relate the entire conversation, but after about five minutes of condescending and pedantic pontificating about sections of the trail far to the north, I stopped listening and turned my attention to filtering my water. Lynn returned and the Ridge Runner practically interrogated her about why she stopped so early today and was planning an “unnecessary” nero tomorrow at Neel Gap. Lynn listened politely, but told me later she really resented the Ridge Runner’s patronizing tone. (When I met up with Lynn the next day at Neel Gap, she told me she had heard similar things about this Ridge Runner from other hikers who had camped at Jarrard Gap.) Needless to say, we were glad to see this Ridge Runner hike off into the fog.

With just the three of us – well four including Stella the well-behaved (if not bewildered) dog – there was plenty of room at the table under the shelter’s overhang for dinner. Jessie was curious about all of my and Lynn’s food choices. And Lynn had yet to experience the wonder of Knorr Sides. Since I was getting off trail the next day, I gave Lynn my extra Knorr’s and tuna packets, as well as a bag of Starburst candies. The remainder of conversation centered on gear. Quite the typical hiker conversation at a shelter. And of course, the weather – the fog and the sound of “fog rain” dripping off of the trees onto the shelter’s roof. It wasn’t raining outside, but with the constant drip of water off the trees onto the shelter’s metal roof it seemed like it was raining. After dinner, we were all off to bed before it turned completely dark. I gave fair warning to Lynn that I would likely snore; she replied that she was prepared with ear plugs!