428.8 miles, 870,886 steps

Apparently, the Big Man Upstairs set the refrigerator to “defrost”. The sunny days boasted highs in the 70s, and no night dropped below 40 (even at elevation). It seems the groundhog was right, this just might be an early spring.

The heat means Phase 2 of the hike has officially begun. As temperatures rise, I’ll be breaking a sweat as I gradually build up heat tolerance. Hydration becomes more critical and burdensome, increasing the water I carry and sometimes requiring two filtering sessions per day. But don’t let the warm days fool you, this is a transition period where any weather is fair game. Never bet against a March blizzard when your safety is on the line. I’ll still toil under the extra load of winter sleeping gear for a solid month until below-freezing nights are no longer remotely plausible. However, I’ll need to burn fewer calories for warmth, boosting my energy levels a bit.

Phase 2 cranks up the average daily miles. With this section extended to make up for lost time, that brings me to three back-to-back weeks above 100 miles. If I’m not doing 20 mikes on a weekday, it’ll be close to it. I’m approaching top-notch conditioning, but 20+ mile days usually irritate some muscle or tendon that’s a bit behind the others. At times I can maintain an elevated pace, but I don’t have quite enough endurance to sustain quick speeds during ascents yet. In short, I’m tackling some of the more aggressive weeks on the schedule while not quite yet at my prime, meaning this next month will be the most physically demanding of the whole trail.

The mountain ecosystem is gradually emerging from slumber. Greens brighten with the resumption of chlorophyll production. Maybe it’s just a change in location, but more clover and ferns penetrate the rocks and fallen leaves. Every now and then, a fresh fragrance wafts from dense patches of vegetation. To my dismay, the bugs are coming out, with moths, butterflies, midges, millipedes, spiders, flies, and ticks spotted for the first time or in far greater numbers.

Day 29: Sunday, March 3

Rector Laurel Road to Low Gap – 11.9 miles

The weather was impeccable, sunny and feeling “warm” for the first time. So many families and friends were out and about enjoying day hikes. To maintain the spirit of rest proper to Sunday, I ambled along leisurely. I took a longer lunch and had a good chat on the phone with my Dad. He reminded me that the mind can always push the body to do more, which I recalled throughout the week to help me power through.

I bumped into two different through-hikers. “Triple 1” started on 1/1 and was the first through hiker to check-in this year (I’m the 103^rd). He averages 8 miles per day and never goes above 15, which explains why I caught up to him. “Cool Breeze” started two weeks after me, but given she’s cranked out some 30-milers it makes sense she passed me. She is rigorous about stopping as little as possible, which inspired me to improve my discipline with breaks.

Day 30: Monday, March 4

Low Gap to Temple Hill Gap – 17.0 miles

At the morning’s onset, I was plagued by doubts and dwindling motivation. Despite enumerating the milestones and positives to look forward to, I just couldn’t shake the disappointment of having to quit last week early and the dread of piling on 30% more miles as a result.

This whirlpool of thought was dispelled interrupted by a snort, which sounded like the combination of a sneeze and the air brakes on a bus releasing. I lifted my head in time to see the whitetail deer dashing for the ridge line: I’d surprised them during their early grazing. They poised on the crest of the hill or amid the trees, nervously monitoring my every move. I stared back, admiring the beautiful creatures and marveling. After I passed these by, I met a few more scattered clusters on my way up Bald Mountain. The serendipitous encounters helped me reconsider that there may be more excitement to come after all.

Knowing my friends and family were counting on me was the main reason I kept plodding onward today. If you’re wondering, yes, I do read all of the comments. Thank you all for still sticking with me, and I’ve loved learning how many of you are also John Denver fans. I’ve just figured out how to post replies correctly, so I can now respond to your questions/jokes directly.

Day 31: Tuesday, March 5

Temple Hill Gap to Cherry Gap Shelter – 21 miles

The remaining 4 miles into Erwin afforded excellent lookouts over the town and Nolichucky River (alas, any sight of Pal’s was obscured by a cluster of trees). I walked into Uncle Johnny’s hostel, where I had bunked Friday and Saturday. Hoping to taste an ice cream sandwich and dismayed at their cost, I sampled some of the popular and slightly less overpriced brands of energy bars I hadn’t tried yet. Lounging on the sunny deck, it occurred to me that I might spend less on resupply by shipping an Amazon box to next weekend’s hostel. I highly value supporting local businesses, especially when it comes to rural communities that depend on hikers and other travelers for their economy, but these purchases would have come from a chain grocery anyway. I still have plenty of opportunities to patron hostels, shuttle drivers, and local eats. I found enough online deals to give it a shot.

Order placed, I started the march out of the valley. Unlike other big climbs, this one spanned a generous 15 miles, with frequent flats to offer reprieve. These level sections tend to be cut into the side of a ridge, snaking side-to-side with gentle vertical oscillation. Here the month’s conditioning paid off. My trail legs pounded along the course with long and heavy strides. Yielding to gravity on small descents and stalling out slightly when elevation recovers upward, the rhythm was similar to a rollercoaster (well, at my speeds, perhaps a kiddie-coaster). My gaze was locked-in a few steps ahead, planning the safest path among the stones and roots. The trekking poles absorb some of the impact and play different roles depending on the slope: pushing backward to provide supplemental thrust, stabbing downhill to brake momentum, or scrambling for points of contact when I stumble. With the endurance and rhythm I’ve built up, I can speed across the easy parts. I covered the 6 miles from Curley Maple Shelter to Indian Grave Gap in 2 hours, sustaining a 3 mph pace.

And every minute counted. If you recall, I met Tom the Trail Angel at mass on Saturday. “Trail Magic” is an act of kindness for through hikers provided free-of-charge, typically snacks and drinks, generously offered by those dubbed as “Trail Angels”. Anyway, I stormed into the gap just a few minutes before Tom planned to depart, but he was more than happy to extend his “business hours” for me. I was treated to a spread of apples, oranges, slices of banana bread, brownies, lemonade, and water. Famished from a postponed lunch but not wanting to be too greedy, I gratefully accepted one of each (except an extra slice of banana bread). He even provided a comfortable lawn chair. Reclined upon my throne and indulging in a king’s feast, I shared my “Why” with Tom.

It wasn’t long before a local shuttle driver rolled in, looking to strike up a chat with Tom. The nearby Forest Service team wrapped up their chainsawing and was regrouping at the gap, elevating our gathering to an impromptu block party. I transitioned to listening as the locals swapped stories of town news and intriguing travelers they’d bumped into.

With one more peak to hurdle and daylight hours waning, I posed with Tom for selfies before hurrying on my way. The clouds accumulated and muted the evening rays, the first signs of tomorrow’s rain. Summiting Unaka Moutain, I was pleased to find a spruce forest similar to that on Clingman’s Dome and other parts of GSMNP. Though badly damaged at times, young pines were mending the gaps according to nature’s course (or reforestation efforts). Occasionally, thick “hedges” of Christas-tree-height firs walled-in the trail.

Nearing the pinnacle, the ashen remains of last-light barely penetrated the dense, mature trees. The footpath was less defined, each blaze more suggesting than defining the way. Enveloped by the darkness and concentrating on not getting lost, I understood why similar wilderness inspired the frightening fairy tales and folk legends of generations past. Weary from the massive distance and evening hours, I didn’t stumble into the shelter until 8:30 PM. Drops began pattering the sheet metal roof before I closed my eyes.

Day 32: Wednesday, March 6

Cherry Gap Shelter to Roan High Knob Shelter – 17.6 miles

After verifying one more time that thunderstorms were absent from the forecast, I charged into the open forest. Armored with my new shell jacket and baggy polyester pants, I was determined to prevent the weather from eroding my morale. Since the showers were spread across the entire day, rainfall was thankfully light, forcing my hood up only half of the time.

I was delighted with the jacket’s water repulsion… for the first two hours. Moisture seeped through the “sealed” seams and spread across the fabric. Admittedly I wasn’t getting soaked through as with jacket #1, but this was a disappointing performance for a mere drizzle (what would happen in a downpour). So the search for the right raincoat continues. But the “hammer-time” pants held up splendidly.

I broke for lunch at Clyde Smith Shelter. A few minutes later brought a surprise reunion. I originally met Kyle at, you guessed it, Standing Bear Hostel. We again crossed paths at the glorious Smoky Mountain Diner in Hot Springs, NC (he too had a run-in with the dog, but not the silent man). I was elated to yet again meet up with this ultramarathoner who introduced me to the wonders of Carnation Breakfast Essentials. Through him I learned that Milkman had made it to the Smokies (that’s the only news I’ve had of my Week 1 acquaintances for some time). He was greatly amused by my food-assessment spreadsheet.

Though we both had the same stopping point in mind, we travelled the bulk of the afternoon separately. He did catch up to me for the last mile. Our conversation was so effective at lifting our minds off the trail that we nearly missed the sign for the shelter.

Roan High Knob Shelter is unique for a few reasons. At 6,100 feet, it’s the highest on the entire AT. It previously served as a fire watchmen’s cabin (only the foundation remains of the tower that stood a stone’s throw from the porch). As such, it is a fully-enclosed two-story wooden shack (I’ve never been so excited to see a door in my life). Even better, a stash of trail magic awaited us inside. I was happy to have Kyle claim the Snickers and Sour Patch Kids so I could indulge in my favorite beverage: hot chocolate.

Spirits lifted by the luxurious accommodations and lavish delicacies, we swapped backstories whilst hanging gear to dry. Running my paracord as a clothesline, I taught Kyle the square knot I used to secure it to a rafter. We had a good chat going past dinner, but we cut it short in favor of quality sleep.

Day 33: Thursday, March 7

Roan High Knob Shelter to Mountaineer Shelter – 25.1 miles

Though precipitation tapered off, the fog did not lift overnight. The damp breeze kept me turtled in my heavy winter coat for several hours. The low visibility cast the woods in a mysterious and isolated mood. While I do prefer clear skies that provide stunning vistas, I still appreciated this new “flavor” of the though-hike experience.

The descent from Roan High Knob sported the best-maintained pathways yet. Ground-retention nets, gravel, and frequent runoff trenches saved me from a drenched and muddy slip-and-slide down the mountain face.

The air cleared up early afternoon, just quick enough to afford my first glance into Virginia before descending the Roan High Mountains. Though the day saw a net elevation drop of 4000 feet, the going was often too steep to safely increase velocity. However, I was able to book it the last 8 miles over Buck Mountain, finishing just before 7:45 PM. On the banks of the Elk River, I was greeted by my first wildflowers, yellow daffodils. Halfway down the Roan Highs, a sign informed me I crossed from North Carolina into Tennessee for the last time. Two states down!

At the shelter I met Cyncity (pronounced “Sin City”), a fellow engineer and Hokie! We shared the same intended destination for tomorrow, so we cut chatter short to get to sleep. But running into a VT-alum was a fitting reward for churning out the first 25-miler.

Day 34: Friday, March 8

Mountaineer Shelter to Laurel Fork Shelter – 17.8 miles

An awesome conclusion to the section. The terrain was predominantly a gentle decline. I chose to take it easy before lunch, but eventually I stepped on the gas and was “crushing it” (as we hikers like to say) at full speed. The threat of rain had me sealed in my extra getup, though only a few drops made an appearance.

The final major landmark for the week was Laurel Falls, which instantly joined my list of favorite spots along the AT (along with Wayah Bald and Clingman’s dome). Laurel Fork winds its way through a 500-foot gorge. Stark rock faces rise straight up from the waters, and I particularly enjoy majestic stone formations. I proceeded at a snail’s pace, taking it all in with wide eyes and gleeful heart. Dropping further into the crag brought me directly to the falls. The roar of the torrent and pristine droplets perfectly captured the overwhelming power and beauty that raw creation shines forth.

The shelter itself perches above the river bed, with the water’s clamor muffled by surrounding trees. I had some time to myself, so I listened to selections from the Appalachian Trail playlist I’ve accumulated. While I’m observing silence during Lent, it felt truly right and just to sing forth the joy and awe that the falls bestowed upon my soul. It also served as an early celebration that I’d overcame last week’s mishaps and was exactly back-on-track with the schedule.

Cyncity caught up after an hour. We worked through the starter topics: where we’re from, why we’re here, and who else we’ve spotted. She hit Springer exactly a week before me as number 48. We marveled at the realization that 50 people started between us, yet we could only put together ~15 of those individuals that either of us ran into. Even accounting for the “leapfrog” effect from staying off-trail periodically, it didn’t make sense to us if less than half of those 50 had quit already. She had several stories of trail buddies that departed for one reason or another. In the back of my mind, I hoped similar fates hadn’t befallen my favorite Week 1 friends.

We had a bit more in common, too. I brought her up to speed on the changes to Tech and downtown Blacksburg since she’d graduated. We shared amusing anecdotes that only fellow Hokies understand. Furthermore, we pondered how our profession as engineers alters our perspective of the trail. We reveled in situations where we applied practical problem-solving to compensate for inadequate gear and other tricky situations. It was refreshing to happen upon another person with a similar background, though I’ve yet to meet a fellow Catholic hiker.

Day 35: Saturday, March 9 🦆

Laurel Fork Shelter to Boots Off Hostel – 6.7 miles

On this day, at 6:36 AM, I celebrated my 24^th birthday on the trail. I held to my tradition of rising early to recall he past 365 days of my time on this Earth. I fondly recalled the culmination of my university academics and the summer’s foretaste of working life in North Carolina. I chuckled at goofy antics and solemnly recalled regrets and mistakes. This culminated in a prayer of thanksgiving and a resolution for personal growth in the year to come.

I traveled to the hostel with phone and watch turned off. I abandoned the measurements of time, altitude, and distance that drive my plan and monitor my performance. Just me, the mountain, and God.

Even so, I showed up to Boots Off Hostel and Campground mid morning. I jumped right into camp chores, desiring to get them out of the way as quickly as possible. One hot shower, load of laundry, and town trip later, I started fixing an early dinner of chocolate-chip pancakes. Coming to realize that most hostels have full kitchens, I turned to prepping food for most of my in-town meals to save on cash. Plus, I enjoy cooking as a way to relax, and I’ve missed preparing my favorites exactly as I like them.

As I was settling down to a feast of pancakes with a side of microwaved chicken nuggets, Kyle entered the kitchen. He planned on staying the night, too, and his girlfriend brought his resupply to the hostel. I traded some pancakes for a helping of pulled pork. Even though we couldn’t chat much that evening, I was pleased to have another enjoy the fruits of my labor. As the season gets busier, I hope to find more opportunities to share meals.

Day 36: Sunday, March 10

Boots Off Hostel and Elizabethton, TN

I shuttled to the church early enough to join the morning rosary. Upon learning I was on the AT, a parishioner generously handed me some cash for lunch. And you know I headed directly for Pal’s, this time upping my game to the Double Big Pal with bacon. All too soon, this was the final time I would be in the proximity of this cyan sanctum of fried delights. I did pay a visit to the Ingles salad bar, craving spinach and carrots just as much as the hamburger.

Elizabethton has most of the amenities a hiker needs and more, but is far from the trail and didn’t seem to have its own character. It gets 0/0 crosswalks in my book. Boots Off has had the best value, friendliest staff, largest breakfast, best kitchen, and long-lasting hot showers to-date, plus all-you-can eat Texas Roadhouse peanuts. That’s an easy 8 out of 8 color-coded bunks, the first A+.

Having the grounds of the hostel to myself, I’ll enjoy the remainder of today catching up on podcasts and other recreation. I think it’s just about time to start another batch of pancakes…

Coming Soon

On Tuesday, I will enter the Twilight Zone of Virginia. This state houses the most trail of any, containing 500 miles (about 25%). In the time it took to knock out GA, NC, and TN, I’ll still be stuck in VA. Some discouraged hikers contract the so-called “Virginia Blues”.

Pebbles

New birds: American Crow, Carolina Wren, Turkey Vulture

Other hikers: Drifter ‘n Blue, a couple vlogging with the channel On the Loose. Drifter’s sectioned most of the AT and wants to put together the whole shebang. Bright Eyes is a South-Bounder who started in Newfoundland, aiming to complete the “International Appalachian Trail” which extends past Katahdin into Canada.

Amusing Trail Names: Kronk, Jolly Green Giant

Trail Tips: If you consume raisins and crackers simultaneously, the tastes and textures combine to approximate an Oreo cookie. To dry wet shoes faster, remove the soles.

Songs in my head: Overworld Theme from New Super Mario Bros Wii, Planet Whisp Act 1 from Sonic Colors, La Bamba by Los Lobos, Midnight Flyer by the Eagles, Twenty-four by Switchfoot, and The Heat is On by Glenn Fry. That last one really captures the energy of crashing through the woods…

🎶Caught up in the action I’ve been looking out for roots🎶,

Max “Frassati” Stelmack