241.2 miles, 521,383 steps

While this journey is filled with grandiose summits, Great Smoky Mountains National Park is on its own scale. In the midst of quaint mountain towns and bustling cities rises a formidable range, untouched but for a few roads and minor park service infrastructure. Dividing the peoples of Tennessee and North Carolina, this untamed wilderness stands as a monument to the modern age that this earth was not carved by human hands.

All throughout the week, I was captivated by the beauty of the raw wilderness. But don’t let the serene photographs fool you, the terrain and climate were not to be trifled with. Even though I had fantastic conditions most of the week, a sudden shift made the latter days strenuous. While the relatively comfortable weather and familiar forests of the past two weeks had put me at ease, here I was on guard. I felt like a visitor or foreigner, permitted by the mountains to wander for a short while in a place not-quite hospitable. With the power to overwhelm outdoorsmen far more intrepid than myself, these mountains commanded my respect.

Nonetheless, I’ve managed the physical toll well. Not quite at full “trail legs” yet, but every day the joints and muscles complain less. I finally achieved a cruising 20-mile day not once, but twice this week.

Day 16 – Monday, February 19

Stecoah Gap to Fontana Dam Shelter – 15.4 miles

After a fantastic pancake breakfast at the local spot in Robbinsville, the shuttle returned me to the gap at 11:00 AM. Despite the late start, the prolific downhill sections helped me make up time. Aside from some icicles, nothing special until I approached Fontana Lake. The water made for some special sunset views, though trees made camera capture difficult.

The Fontana Dam Shelter provides top-notch facilities: a 20-person shelter, graveled walkways, picnic benches, trash cans, heated bathrooms, hot showers, and a solar-powered charging station. Due to the luxurious offerings, it is affectionately called the “Fontana Hilton”.

Day 17 – Tuesday, February 20

Fontana Dam Shelter to Mollies Ridge Shelter – 11.8 miles

After a quick stroll across the Fontana Dam, I crossed the southern boundary of Great Smoky Mountains National Park (GSMNP). The course was very similar to last Saturday’s climb out of the NOC. The hike through the Park immediately climbs to 5000’ and doesn’t drop much below that until the final descent out. It took all day to slog from 1750’ up to 4500’. I’d hoped to overcome the entire elevation gain today, since I’d accomplished a full 15 miles out of the NOC. However, I overlooked that I’m carrying roughly 12 additional pounds of food, or 25% more weight overall, at the beginning of the week. Staggering into Mollies Ridge, I was undoubtedly too exhausted to push another 3.1 miles to the next shelter.

The first 5 miles of GSMNP were particularly emotionally trying. Close to maximum weight and frequently slipping on the unrelenting steepness, I poured myself into the morning’s rosary. The arduous ascent evaporated any elation and escalated my doubts. I fully collided with that internal barrier for the first time: I had to commit to the trail despite having no motivation or desire to push on. Previous internal struggles had been quickly resolved by focusing on some sort of positive just minutes or steps away, but lunch was or for hours and the slope would remain all day. With the “carrots” failing to motivate, I reflected on the “sticks”. Recalling all the reasons I can’t quit right then and there, I was forced to surrender to the trail and abandon myself to God’s will. My prayer culminated in “God, I don’t want to endure this trial and I can’t see the good that comes from this, but I trust that this suffering is necessary for Your purposes”. So I trudged on.

But there was mercy amidst the ordeal. Soon after I completed my rosary, I was introduced to a rock jumble and minor overlook that cheered me up a bit. At 4:00 PM, I officially crossed into Tennessee for the first time. I also encountered another interesting character. I bumped into “Just Mike” at the GSMNP entrance. While we strode at different paces, we ended up in the same lunch spot and shelter. Just Mike is a really pleasant guy, usually mumbling a tune or sharing a witty remark. As we swapped stories, I was impressed to learn he had already done the Triple Crown (AT, CDT, and PCT) and going for his second run-through! Disregarding the fact that he downs four cups of strong coffee every day, Just Mike is exactly the kind of gentleman I’d like to be in my older days.

The night’s accommodations were well-worth the day’s hike. All GSMNP shelters are stoned-walled with tarps covering the entrance, blocking strong gusts. A roofed porch and interior fireplace are excellent comforts after exhausting days. Just Mike and I teamed up to warm the hearth, he gathering wood while I nurtured sparks into a steady blaze. The company, heat, sunset, and distance city lights peacefully passed the dusk into a restful night.

Day 18 – Wednesday, February 21

Mollies Ridge Shelter to Derrick Knob Shelter – 12.1 miles

Though ambitious to cover 17 miles, I got caught up in conversation with Just Mike and made a slow start. The setbacks only continued to pile on. After just two hours, I was unexpectedly ravenous and halted for a half hour to refuel. Though a hearty lunch eventually returned my energy levels to normal, I was sluggish for the whole morning. Languishing from the constant up-and-down of the path, I frequently paused to peruse the guidebook and estimate the remaining mileage.

As a brief aside, there is a critical regulation that comes with GSMNP’s stellar shelters: hikers are not allowed to camp anywhere else (with a few irrelevant exceptions). This is justified as a bear counter-measure, allowing the park to provide bear cables to hang food and encouraging safety-in-numbers as travelers gravitate to a fewer number of stopping points. I have some spicy takes on these and more GSMNP regulations, but you’re not here for those.

Anyway, this explains my predicament when I arrived at Derrick Knob Shelter at 4:00 PM. In addition to my slower pace, I mismanaged my hydration and needed to refill. To continue 7 miles to my true goal of the next shelter after stopping for 15 minutes to filter water was not a feasible prospect. While part of me wanted to push through, I knew deep down I’d lost too many small battles throughout the day. Disheartened, I unpacked my sleep system and lit the kindling while Just Mike caught up.

While I could easily identify most of the day’s mistakes, I was perplexed by the inability of my breakfast to keep me satisfied as usual. You see, every week I make small adjustments to my food supply to experiment with recommendations and rotate flavors. For example, this week I tried out butter, which aside from being calorie-dense tastes AMAZING when I add a third of a stick to the afternoon couscous. This was offset by two catastrophic breakfast missteps.

As many of you know, I am obsessed with oatmeal. It was love at first sight when we met four years ago, and has been my morning go-to ever since. I’ve dabbled with many ludicrous recipes (blending in scrambled eggs, for example), devoted my license plate to this breakfast of champions, and will gladly divulge a 2-paragraph tangent on the subject. Exceptionally conducive to backpacking, we didn’t have to break up when I hit the trail. A full cup of oats dotted with raisins has had me up-and-going the last two weeks. But this week, I substituted straight oats for muesli (a pre-cooked cereal), drawn by the greater fiber and nutritional diversity that comes from four additional grains. I exchanged the raisins for dried dates, figuring they were roughly equivalent. Well, after a more thorough examination of the nutrition labels I found that the dates and muesli are both packed with tons more added sugar, which explains the morning crash. Alas, not even muesli cannot escape the sucrose-induced plight of the modern ready-to-eat cereal. Woe unto he who spurns his oatmeal…

Day 19 – Thursday, February 22

Derrick Knob Shelter to Icewater Spring Shelter – 20.0 miles

I resolved to make a come back and correct each of yesterday’s small failures. I was up at 5:30 and walking by 7:00. I swapped my breakfast and lunch meals and took smaller sips of water more often. I stopped to glance at the guidebook less (I still stand to improve on that one, especially late in the day). Putting these tactics together, I surmounted both my first 20-miler and the tallest summit in the trail, Clingman’s Dome.

The path to the Dome was gently graded and actually quite pleasant. I came across the first real pine trees on the trail, at first scattered but gradually dominating the landscape. I adored the change in scenery, with emerald moss creeping along the sunny roots and fallen logs. I haven’t been in a pine forest during spring, and it was definitely the highlight of the week.

The Clingman summit featured an observation tower, with a shallow ramp spiraling to the top. I took lunch on the observation deck while admiring the surrounding mountains. I still can’t comprehend having walked over a 6600’ mound of dirt.

The way down was quite icy. The northwestern face of the ridge is shady this time of year, warming up just enough to melt before hardening into a river of ice at night. I brought micro-spikes (metal studs mounted to a rubber web) to attach to my boots for just this sort of obstacle. The ice was very patchy: I took pictures of the worst sections, but they rarely lasted for more than a handful of yards. I did wear the spikes for a few minutes and enjoyed the powerful sensation of sticking to the ice like Spider-Man, but otherwise trekking poles and careful foot placement were enough to maintain traction. I photographed the worst/prettiest ice formations, but the ground was clear 90% of the time. I did have one fall into soft dirt, due to sneaky black ice on a log.

I approached Mt Collins Shelter around 3:30 PM, once again faced with the temptation to stop one shelter early and escape exhaustion. But I knew doing so would jeopardize getting to mass on Sunday, so I committed to the full 20 miles. I hustled into Davenport gap with 3 miles left and rain clouds 90 minutes away. Other park tourists were returning from day-hikes, and I imagine the mothers were gently ushering their children away from the panting hiker with a crazed look in his eyes scurrying to offload trash into the dumpster and apply a pack cover. The adrenaline of racing against the clouds overcame sore muscles as I clambered the last 1000 feet. Darkness fell, and I felt like Gandalf wandering the Mines of Moria with phone flashlight in one hand, trekking pole in the other. Striding into camp, I snarfed down two peanut butter tortillas. The showers came 15 minutes after I ducked inside to inflate my sleeping pad. Though it took starting and finishing in the dark, I fell asleep victorious knowing I had won back the week.

Day 20 – Friday, February 23

Icewater Spring Shelter to Cosby Knob Shelter – 20.3 miles

Up to now, the weather cooperated swimmingly. Nights just above freezing, days in the pleasant 50’s. The forecast did not bode well for this day and the next, with 3-7 inches of snow forecast for Saturday. I wanted to cover as much ground today to reduce the number of drifts I’d have to wade through tomorrow. Even though many hikers lingered to wait-out the morning rain, I left bright and early to try for another 20-mile day.

Now, complaining never helped anyone, but I do want to share an honest perspective of the trail experience. This morning was downright miserable. My waterproof layers held up for an hour, but eventually I was fully soaked. Thankfully I was never in danger of hypothermia, given my non-cotton layers still holding some warmth and staving off shivers. Rain, sleet, and snow all deposited before the morning was through. I took an early lunch when the precipitation finally cleared up, thankful I packed an entire set of dry clothes. But there was no way to dry out my boots, which audibly sloshed with each step.

Once again, I considered stopping a shelter early to comfort myself. But extra mileage was the whole point of braving the rain. I kept walking in spite of my fatigue, to prevent the morning’s sacrifice from becoming pointless. As the descent from the ridge began, the clouds parted slightly, with the surrounding mountains peeking through as if to say goodbye. The lovely pines slowly yielded to mountain laurels and deciduous trees. I kept on until 45 minutes after sunset. I ate dinner late enough for rodents to be active, and I saw my first shelter mouse (only after it skittered across my right calf) which was drawn by the scent of the peanut butter. Needing sleep and lacking dry sticks, I forewent a fire to make a fire to dry my boots.

Aside: As you look at the photos from today, you may notice a strange metal “U”. The aeronautically-inclined among you may recognize it as part of an aircraft turbine engine. The guidebook had the note “aircraft wreckage” at this location.

Day 21 – Saturday, February 24

Cosby Knob Shelter to Standing Bear Farm/Hostel – 10.7 miles

Most everything dried out overnight, except the footwear. I cautiously waved the boots upside-down over the propane stove to evaporate, or at least warm up, the moisture.

It did snow about 2” on my way down. It was the perfect amount, enough to delight the eyes and improve traction without piling into deep banks or disguise tripping hazards. Still unhappy about yesterday’s rain, the pleasant flakes reminded me to accept the weather as an experience, not an inconvenience. The world of white reminded me of some favorite holiday tunes.

Nothing else notable until I arrived at the hostel in the early afternoon.

Day 22 – Sunday, February 25

Standing Bear Farm/Hostel

My second hiker hostel experience has once again proved superior to staying in-town. While prices and amenities vary, this particular location offers showers, laundry, full kitchen, 3 bountiful meals per day, electricity, and WiFi, in addition to a charming farm aesthetic. All of that included with two nights in the bunkhouse is cheaper than just one night at last week’s motel.

The downside of hostel for me is they are typically farther away from a church, but I lucked out this week. The owner is also Catholic and gladly gave me a ride to mass this morning. After mass, the parishioners are generally excited to see through-hikers, and I spend a few minutes sharing my trail stories.

Aside from editing this post, I’ve been doing camp chores and chatting it up with other hikers. In 24 hours I’ve consumed 5 bowls of hamburger soup, 3 slices of bread, 20 fig newtons, 2 massive plates of spaghetti, and 2 donuts. This has been an exquisite weekend and location, I’ll rate it 14/15 chickens.

Coming Soon…

After just two days, I’ll saunter through Hot Springs, NC. It’s the first true “trail town”, with the path merging onto main street. Come Saturday, I’ll be renewing my “carnivorous habit” with my favorite fast-food item (hint: not Zucchini Fettuccine) from a little-known Tennessee chain.

Pebbles

New birds: Eastern Bluebird

Songs in my head: America the Beautiful, Go the Distance from Disney’s Hercules, I Can See Clearly Now by Jimmy Cliff, Slip Slidin’ Away by Paul Simon, A Foggy Day (In London Town) by Michael Bublé, and A Christmas Together by John Denver and the Muppets.

Funny trail names: El Wawa, BOB (Burned-Out Bob), and Summit Seeker & Slow Stu (a couple who’ve been section hiking for 30 years!)

Trail Tip: If you don’t like the flavor of teriyaki beef jerky, consuming it outdoors below freezing dramatically reduces the bad taste. Conversely, it makes the good flavors taste worse. Forgot to share this last week.