Don’t Trust Everything You Read on FarOut: Pinhoti Day 16

Day 16: East Armuchee Creek to Tent Site at Mile 277.2

On repeat: Lovers in Japan

Oof, last night was a doozy. Between my anxiety around changing my flight and the heat, I struggled to sleep.

At one point around 2:30am, I’d nearly dozed off when I heard an animal lumbering through the creek next to Leland’s porch (Leland is the trail angel who picked us up yesterday). In my half-asleep daze, I didn’t think much of it at first. But whatever it was kept trudging on right next to us and woke Sparks with a start. She jumped up out of her quilt thinking it was a bear, which had me scrambling to my feet as well. I started reaching for the door to Leland’s cabin, but the two of us freaking out must’ve made enough noise to scare the animal because it ran off.

We laughed nervously then tried to fall asleep again.

I felt I’d only barely drifted to sleep when my watch started buzzing at 6:30am. Grumpy and exhausted, I started to pack up.   

At least it was a pretty sunrise 🙂

Leland greeted us around 7:30am and asked how we slept, surprised we slept outside on the porch instead of inside the cabin. We laughed as we told Leland about the animal in the creek last night, and he thought it might’ve been a river otter that he sees on his property sometimes. Harmless.

Sparks and I started our day on the other side of East Armuchee Creek (thanks for the ride across the water, Leland!) to hike up John’s Mountain. It was a winding, gradual climb, but between my exhaustion and the record heat, I started feeling nauseous. I took a break in the shade and sucked down my electrolytes. Remembering Sparks sage advice to “hike at the pace of guidance” last year, I decided to slow way down.

What’s my body telling me? I’m dehydrated and exhausted. Feeling overwhelmed.

What do I notice in the forest around me? In this moment, poison ivy. Lots of it.

The view from the John’s Mountain viewing platform

We made it to the top of John’s Mountain and took in the expansive view before us. Two men on motorcycles joined us shortly afterward — all the way from upstate New York — and we exchanged some stories. After another short break in whatever shade we could find, we hiked down the mountain to a rocky waterfall area. As we descended again, I started feeling better.

One of my favorite spots on the Pinhoti so far

Later on in the day, Sparks and I met a man named Jorge who was setting up some chairs in a patch of shade on the edge of a dirt trailhead parking lot. He offered us some water and snacks, and told us he was waiting for his friends. The two women, Nadia and Maria, were running the Georgia section of the Pinhoti Trail, and were planning to traverse about 50 miles a day! As Nadia and Maria approached, we all posed for a trail selfie and talked for a few minutes. We hiked on feeling inspired and ready to crush the last five miles to camp.

Thankful for great conversation and the kindness of strangers.

Once we reached the campsite, Sparks and I ate dinner, refilled our water bottles at a nearby stream, and decided to push on another 2.5 miles to a stealth site since we still had daylight and it was starting to cool down. We really wanted our hike into Dalton tomorrow to be on the shorter side so we could enjoy a nice long town day.

The trail widened and cruised into what seemed like an old forest road, contouring the side of the mountain. The ground felt gentle and soft beneath our feet. Looking down, we noticed bike tracks.

Though the trail was pretty cruisey, the bugs started to get annoying right before dusk. I opened FarOut to check how much farther we had to hike to the stealth site, and realized that the stealth site we were aiming for was an additional three miles past the waypoint where people had commented about it on FarOut. Sigh. We took stock and decided we felt hydrated and strong enough to push on, enjoying the sunset and the residential lights of Dalton from the ridge line (as well as some beers from Jorge, Nadia, and Maria).

I never expected to be treated to trail magic on the Pinhoti, but today was full of trail angels and magic!

It was dark by the time we made it to camp. According to Sparks’ watch, we’d hiked 26 total miles (FarOut says 24.2), and I was ready for a good sit down.

But we couldn’t find the site.

I reread the comments on FarOut that mentioned a small fire ring and space for 2-3 tents. Well, we found the fire ring, but the tenting area — or, what we were assuming was the tenting area — was covered in leaves. I hiked another tenth of a mile down the trail just in case there was another site nearby to no avail. 

Back at the campsite, we cleared some of the leaves to find the ground beneath was too rocky to set up. And I mean actually too rocky. When I tried moving a rock over, I instantly dropped it back to the ground because an army of fire ants was crawling around beneath it. A big nope from me.

Maybe this was a nice place to camp out at one point, but it seemed like no one had actually tried setting up there in years. I wondered if the commenters on FarOut had noticed the area as they hiked past without really investigating, and thought they were being helpful? I felt perplexed by the recent comments. 

In this instance, we were safe, hydrated, fed, and close to town. But the experience served as a good reminder to check the dates on FarOut comments and take them with a grain of salt, especially when it comes to things like water sources, crossings, etc.

Anyway, it was late, we were tired, and the Pinhoti is a pretty quiet trail. So I decided to just set up on a somewhat flat section of the trail, and Sparks managed to clear a narrow spot long enough to set her sleeping pad on once she crawled inside her tent. We were both a little frustrated, but as soon as I got into my tent, I couldn’t help but laugh.

In this moment, I still wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but here.