… or a lamentation on tent pads

• Start: Standing Bear Farm
• End: Hot Springs, NC

Trail life this last stretch was fast, furious, and as always filled with unexpected mishaps and marvel. Some days out here, I feel like I’m living a hundred lives between sunrise and sunset. Other days, the miles blend together, only broken up by my increasingly frequent snack stops. The days from Standing Bear to Hot Springs contained a bit of both. But let’s start from the beginning, shall we?

Day 26: Standing Bear Farm to Roaring Fork Shelter

The day leaving a hostel has the tendency to become a hiker vortex. Last minute chores continue to appear, perhaps needed and perhaps just to delay the inevitable climb sure to begin your next stretch of trail.

I spent most of the morning doing tech-chores including updating my Kindle and downloading nostalgic tunes to my phone while eating aggressively bland oatmeal. As of this point, I hadn’t listened to any music while hiking, instead relying on podcasts or audiobooks to pass the hours trudging. So to say I’m excited for some tunes is an understatement.

I finally got on trail at 11 a.m. Rather bold of me, considering I had 18 miles and some steep climbs! But with the newly downloaded indie jams and sad girl pop in my ears, I locked in and ticked off the miles. The only breaks  in the trail was Max Patch, a beloved grassy bald in the section, and my spotting (I.e., almost stepping on) the biggest snake of the trail thus far. The (I’m pretty sure) North American Racer was over 4 feet long. Third snake of the trail. Sorry no photo—me almost stepping on him is not an exaggeration so he slithered away quickly, plus I was screaming which distracted me from capturing the moment.

I got to Roaring Fork shelter around 7:30 p.m. to find the shelter “full”—aka one guy took up two spots like he owned the place. No worries. I hadn’t tented in a while anyway.

Well actually, some worries. Setting up my 2-person tent on a too-small pad was like playing  Tetris with tent stakes and logs. Maybe the 2-person tent is a bit excessive. 

Day 27: Roaring Fork to Deer Park Mountain Shelter

I slept like a rock. Or maybe a log. Or like someone who hiked 18 miles uphill on a belly full of half cooked oatmeal. A late start meant I didn’t start hiking until 9 a.m., but the universe rewarded my tardiness with TRAIL MAGIC at Lemon Gap. Bluegrass, a 2024 thru-hiker, rolled up with a grill, a cooler full of Cokes, and hot dogs.

I was the first to arrive as our angel was literally unloading the car, so I helped him set up (gotta earn your hot dog), and soon other hikers joined. His wife joined as well—apparently they were headed to a wedding and just decided to feed hikers along the way. Like angels in a Subaru.

After that, it was time to climb again. Made it to the top for a nice rock sit, then decided to just rip out the last miles. Rolled into Deer Park at 4:30, knees loudly protesting.

Only three of us for the shelter that night, including Father Tom, a retired firefighter from Long Island doing the entire Eastern Continental Trail from Key West to Canada. Casual. He’s got the 1 person, single-walled version of the tent I currently have. After the tent pad fiasco of last night, I’m looking a little longingly. Maybe I do swap.

Only I set up in the shelter but once the sun dipped, the mice came out like it was Studio 54. With the sounds of clattering claws across each beam, I’m pretty sure there was a rat or two mixed in with the rodent herd. I lasted 10 minutes before bailing to my tent. Unfortunately, the tent pad I chose was… not great.

Cue: torrential rain.

Water started pooling under my tent like a tiny lagoon. My stakes weren’t solid, the fly was sagging, and rain splatter was sneaking onto the mesh. With 3/4 of the tent floating, I realized sleep would have to wait until I could confirm I wouldn’t fail. I stayed up for two hours reading but eventually the water started to drain and I fell asleep. Barely.

Day 28: Deer Park Shelter to Hot Springs 

After my night playing Captain Nemo, I practically sprinted the three miles into Hot Springs. Victory latte from Artisun Café, plus a banana nut muffin and some very sweet dogs hanging out outside. The AT doesn’t actually go past the café, so I walked the shoulder of a busy street like a caffeinated raccoon, then headed to the Appalachian Trail-er hostel to do laundry and meet with friends visiting me in town. The next day and a half are gonna be spent sleeping, eating, and taking in all of the joys of a town day.

Trail Takeaways: This Week’s Hiker Wisdom

• Shelter mice are terrorists. I said what I said.
• Tent pads are not all created equal. Choose wisely or prepare to boat camp.
• Trail magic tastes better when you help unpack the grill. Karma’s real, y’all.
• Town food hits like a drug. Pimento cheese, fried green tomato sandwiches? Illegal levels of dopamine. More on that in the next blog entry. 
•  Take the W. If your Kindle’s updated, your music is downloaded, and your tent isn’t underwater? You’re winning.

Town zero coming up next. Fully embracing naps, hot food, and maybe—just maybe—finally trimming my toenails.