The Night Before Springer
Twas the night before Springer, and all through the house, all the cell phones were buzzing, “good luck, hope you don’t see a mouse!”
All the backpacks were packed, by the front door places with care, filled with tents and sleeping bags but no spray for the Bears .
The hikers were snug, tucked safe into bed, while visions of mountains danced in their heads.
OK but like for real guys, the night before driving up to Springer feels an awful lot like the night before Christmas. The same anxious excitement, the same vibrating energy, the same awful pout that morning just won’t ever come.
I’ve been in Georgia the last week eating so much food that the joke that Eric is going to have to roll me down the trail has stopped being funny
We’ve gone on our first 1.1 mile paved road, Georgia hike
We visited botanical gardens, cemeteries, and hung out with my young cousins
All that’s left to do is to do the darn thing!
Tuck me in, because we’re hitting the trail in the morning and at last the wait will be over
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