GG is already up and packed and enjoying breakfast while I get my life together. Thankfully we have nowhere to be and nothing to do but hike. We have no agenda: we will decide where to stop when we feel like stopping. Total and utter freedom.
We collect extra water since the next two water sources are described in app as "take a 200-foot side trail to a water source." That is code for "you will have to walk a hell of a long ways down off the trail and then hike back up with your heavy water bladder."
We are on the trail early today, and since no one else passed us last night or this morning, we have a perfect opportunity to see some wildlife this morning. It also means we will be web walking, joy of joys. Nothing says wilderness like pulling cobwebs out of your hair and mouth. The bees are buzzing, the birds are trilling, and the flies are flying. I have to constantly swat the nasties away from my face.
The walk along the ridge is delightful. The climbs and descents are gentle and barely noticeable. We see a lot of bear scat on the trail, so I walk without my headphones, using my audiobook as bear deterrent, since the bear can hear me before I see them. And it works: about 45 minutes into our hike, near Turkeypen Gap, I hear some crashing in the woods to my right. Too big for turkey, so I must have scared off another bear. When I get to the gap, I see a forest service sign that has been attacked by claws.
This morning can't be any more exquisite. The birds are sweetly chirruping some beautiful music: a 360-degree chorus of song. A woodpecker is busy thrumming against a dead tree. Squirrels and chipmunks squeak as they run across the trail and into the underbrush, alarmed by my passing.
I emerge onto a powerline throughway and soak up the warm sunlight. The occasional brush cutting of the powerline gaps encourages growth of wildflowers and briars. These are opportunistic plants that grow quickly in the wild margins of woods and field. Blackberries are in full flower, as are taller viburnum and elderberry bushes. Bees of all shapes and sizes are busily flying about, pollinating the flowers.
I meet GG at the Iron Mountain Shelter. Built in 1960 by the Forest Service, it is a standard 6-person shelter. The shelter is showing its age but has been recently painted. The picnic table is in the sunshine, and we shuck our packs for lunch. I point the back of my pack toward the sunshine to dry off the sweat and take off my shoes and socks to air my feet. I drink some more berry/green/electrolyte slop, since it fueled me well yesterday. I add some protein powder for good measure. It tastes terrible but it's easy to make and to get some quick nutrition. 
I dump out the contents of my food bag and take inventory of my remaining supply. If I am judicious, I will have just enough to get me the next 28 miles to Damascus. GG heads out and I throw my backpack on. It feels so light with the little food and water I carry. My backpack is starting to feel like an extension of my body. The hotspots I had on my shoulders and waist have disappeared, and my clavicles don't feel bruised like they did a week ago.
We have been on trail for two hours and haven't seen Kodiak yet. The road she is to start on today is five miles north, and we were certain we would have run into her already, but we did have a very early start. The cell phone service here is woefully nonexistent, so we can't send a text message. Remarkably, we have not seen anyone since we left the Vandeventer yesterday afternoon, which is unusual this time of year. We have the entire ridgetop to ourselves right now. I love the interaction with other hikers, but right now I am soaking up the solitude!
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| Leaving Big Laurel Branch Wilderness |
The next few miles fly by. The trail winds across and parallel to a stream but think I should have enough for a few miles. As I approach a road crossing a mile later, I take a drink from my hose, only to get a big suck of air mixed with a few drops of water. Bummer. I am also getting quite hungry.
The app says there is a stone picnic table with piped water near the road. I look forward to a nice lunch sitting at an actual table with some fresh spring water. When I arrive at the road I look around. Huh. There is no picnic table here. And the culvert next to the parking area is dry as a bone. Confused, I cross the road and enter a gate into a pasture. I get out of the bright sun by sitting in the shade of a birch tree and get out my phone and turn on my GPS. I realize that I was looking ahead two miles! Double bummer.
Thankfully the weather is mild, and I only have 400 feet of gain over the next two miles, because I suck water like crazy on the uphills. I decide not to eat lunch here, but I do have two gulps of my electrolyte sludge left and I empty my jar while I wait for GG.
We walk together through a pasture, which is a wonderful change of scenery. The meadow is not planted with crops, and wildflowers are growing unrestrained. The tall yellow flower stalk of cat's ear (Hypochaeris radicata) dominates the field. A weed by most standards, the basal leaves of the biennial are edible, and the root can be used as a coffee substitute. More importantly, many butterfly and moth species' larvae use the entire plant as food.
While we walk through the field, I see many other familiar edible and medicinal plant friends: oxeye daisy, Plantago minor, and yarrow. Little yellow butterflies flutter between the flowers, and the sound of cows mooing in the completes the scene. A truck is driving through the pasture in the distance and as it nears the far edge of the field, cows come running out from under the trees. We didn't even know the cows were there!
We crest the ridge and see a large barn emblazoned with the AT symbol. This is an iconic landmark on the AT, the subject of many pictures in articles. So, I have to add my picture!
We cross over the fence and reenter the woods and hike the mile to the spring that crosses the trail. We take off our packs and survey the area. There is a small grassy area near the spring outlet where we sit to eat a snack. We survey the map and try to decide where to camp tonight. Double Spring Shelter is only a mile further, but it seems much too early to stop for the night. The next water source from the shelter is another 6 miles. I don't think my feet can do 17 miles today, so Double Spring Shelter it is!
Double Spring Shelter looks like every other shelter on the trail: a non-descript three-sided cinderblock shed and painted in the customary brown and white. Named for the two springs that emerge in front of the shelter, there are a few level spots scattered in the area.
We are the first ones here, so we have our pick of campsites. We choose to set up down the hill from the shelter, by the second spring. We are in camp with enough daylight to rinse out and hang up our dirty clothes. My tarp ridgeline is perfect for this task!
I love our little campsite and slide into my hammock to make sure my feet are at the right height, when my hammock bows in half and my butt hits the ground. What the heck? I realize my error when I get out and see that one of the trees is way too flexible and bends like crazy from my weight. I remedy the situation by untying my tarp and hammock from the wobbly tree while keeping the head end attached and pivoting the entire hammock and tarp 90 degrees to another, stronger tree. Unfortunately, the distance between the trees is shorter than I prefer, and my hammock is still not taught enough for a flat lay, but I'm too lazy to take the whole thing down and start over.
Thirty minutes after GG is at the shelter, I arrive and start cooking my dinner while GG tries many times to hang a bear line. The trees here are so tall we can't throw the rope up high enough. We both try so many times we almost give up, when GG finally gets it a line over a tree near the shelter. It's not ideal, because the line is a little close to the tree, but we decide to use it and if a bear gets our food, we will take it as a sign and hitch out at the next road crossing.
A female hiker cruises down the hill to the shelter with a big pack and she waves her arms and yells "you gotta be kidding me!" I realize it's Mochila!! We are all super thrilled to see each other.
"You gotta be kidding me!" I yell in return. She is by herself because Ragnar decided to get off earlier than Damascus. He had to return home to take care of some things. The plan is for him to drive their RV to road crossings to support her on her thru hike.
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| GG and Mochila at Double Spring Shelter |
We chat while she sets up her tent next to the shelter, and we talk about the different things we are carrying in our packs. She is carrying a lot more weight than either of us. She is using the same tent which they both used, which is really big for one person, but "no sense in buying another tent," she says, and GG and I both nod in agreement. Thru hikers are on a tight budget, after all.
She then pulls from her pack an actual book and two pillows!! I am in awe of how strong she must be to hike all these miles with what many people would consider heavy luxury items. I only read books via my phone and left my little notebook at home for this trip, considering it unnecessary weight and preferring to keep an audio journal on my phone instead. Pillows and sleeping pads are two of the most debated items in backpacks. Many consider pillows needless luxuries, but those are often the same young men that can sleep on the slimmest foam pad and call it comfortable.
While we chat, a few more hikers walk through. All but one named Dylan decide to head further uphill on the trail away from the shelter, where there are tent sites on the ridge. Dylan decides to sleep in the shelter with the active mice population, brave guy.
All of a sudden, a large crash can be heard down the hill where GG and I set up our camp. We all look at each other. Dylan asks if that was a bear. No one spots a retreating black shape, so we take a quick walk down to check on the camp. A huge tree branch crashed down very close to where my hammock was hanging before I moved! We always look up to avoid setting up under deadfall (called a widow maker), but the trees are so tall here that it's impossible to see that high.
There are so many flies here. There are the normal sized house fly looking flies. Then there are the little gnats that like to divebomb our faces. There are also a lot of flies with lacy looking wings that bite and draw blood. The latter seem to only bite me. Maybe I smell like dead meat. I finally say goodnight so I can escape the critters, and I zip myself up quickly in the bug net of my hammock.
Today marks exactly six weeks since we started the trail at Springer Mountain in Georgia.
Today's stats: 11 miles, 2,000 feet elevation gain
Trail stats: 452 miles, 107k feet elevation gain
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