©Copyright 09/24/02000. Fresh Ink. All rights reserved
Harold and Düg arrived at Springer Mtn. Shelter shortly after sunset. There, they met Dick and Glenn Barrick aka Coot and Tumbleweed. They were two other fellow potential thru-hikers out for a long walk north. Also there for the historic occasion was a photographer from National Geographic and his girlfriend. They had taken quite a fascination with Coot and Tumbleweed and were busy asking them questions and taking pictures. Coot and Tumbleweed were only too happy to oblige. They had a timeless old-timer quality about them that somehow seemed synonymous with the Trail. By the light of the fire, their presence seemed definitive, even pre-ordained.
For Düg however, it was a different story. He was completely exhausted. He had left San Antonio by bus almost two full days ago hoping that he would be able to nap along the way. Unfortunately, that had not been the case. So it was that, by this time, he was going on about thirty-eight hours without sleep. Needless to say, he quickly ate and went to bed.
During the night there was a terrible storm. It sounded horrific but Düg was too tired to do more than make a mental note for morning. He saw that he still had a roof overhead and quickly fell back asleep. Then, suddenly, brilliant flashes coming from inside the lean-to awakened him. It was just before dawn and the Photographer and his girlfriend were setting off these enormously powerful bursts of light. They explained that these were from their light meter and that they needed a reading for the shoot. They then proceeded to take pictures of Coot and Tumbleweed as they got dressed, ate breakfast and packed up. Every minutiae was captured on film. Looking to turn this extreme misfortune around, Düg realized it was a golden opportunity to catch the sunrise, if there was one. With monumental effort, he crawled from his bag, snapped a picture, then crawled back in and went back to sleep. Many months later he would gaze upon that sunrise for the first time.
Hours later Düg awoke to find Harold just about completely packed and moments away from departure. Harold was getting a late start at around 11 am. He had slept right through the morning's festivities and woke up a little over an hour ago. He was concerned that getting such a late start did not bode well at the start of such a momentous journey. So they soon said goodbye and he left. Then, as Düg still lay there in that space between sleep and consciousness, he vaguely recalled the storm from the night before. He remembered that, in the second between when he went to sleep and when he awoke, for a microsecond, there had been a storm. It had been fast and furious. Did he only dream a tornado? He looked around; there was some damage but nothing too serious. Later, in the Smoky Mountains, he would discover that the extensive damage around Clingman’s Dome was a result of this storm. Düg remembered that he had left his stove and cook kit out last night and expected them to be gone with the wind but everything was fine. So he made some coffee and began his day.
The National Geographic people had pitched a tent several yards away and were busy packing daypacks. It looked as though they might have suffered some minor damage during the night. Later, they stopped over to comment on Düg’s late start. They suggested that such a late start was indicative of someone who probably wouldn’t make it. Düg remembered the hiker he had passed in Gainesville. They explained that they were on their way back down to Amicalola Falls and were leaving the tent for their return the next day. They seemed apprehensive that he might still be there when they got back. But he felt great. He thanked them for their kind words and vote of confidence then they left. But he was even more thankful for the silence they left behind. It invigorated him.
Finally, around one, he was all packed up and ready to go. He had found a Trail Register in the shelter and read it over breakfast. There were quite a few people ahead of him already. There was Scott Dorloo as Pacer, Bill Bowling as BB, and Dan Chant as the Irish Rover. There was Dick and Nancy Hill as Gramp and Granny GoAT, and many others that didn't even have Trail names yet. There was Rebecca -- AT Hike for the Homeless, Beth and Chandra, Chris and Beth, Ken and Carrie Curin, Eric Fier, and many, many more. It was clear that there would be plenty more of these Trail Registers along the way. It was also clear that there would be plenty of thru-hikers as well. Finally, with one last look around, he signed the book, coupled with his pack, and began his journey north.
Chattahoocheeville
"North Georgia is Blue Ridge country. The Mountains have the form of an enormous V, open to the north. The apex of the V is Springer Mountain."Appalachian Trail Guide: North Carolina-Georgia 7th edition, p105
As Düg descended from Springer, he entered into the lush world of Georgia's Chattahoochee National Forest. This region extends all the way to the North Carolina-Georgia border. It is a "Hiker's Mecca" of rhododendron, mountain laurel and flame azaleas. According to the Trail Guide, there were more than 300 miles of trails within an area of 1.65 million acres. About a third of this land was Federally protected.
Despite the weight of his pack, Düg hobbled on past the old logging road where Stover Creek Shelter was located. From there he followed along Stover Creek through a stand of ancient Hemlocks.
"The enormous evergreen trees along Stover Creek are known as Cathedral Hemlocks and are the only stand of virgin timber from Springer to the Smokies"The 1988 Philosopher's Guide, pg 15
Next he passed through an area called Three Forks. There, the convergence of three mountain streams, Stover Creek, Chester Creek, and Long Creek, formed the Noontootla Creek. Crossing a bridge, the Trail followed Long Creek to the beautiful Long Creek Falls where he ate a late lunch.
Afterward, Düg continued on through thickets of rhododendron to Hawk Mountain Shelter, 7.7 miles from Springer. There he met up with Coot and Tumbleweed, Harold, and a few more of the cast of characters. There was Cecilia Goodrich as Mountain Mama, Aubrey "AT" Davis, Donald Cochran, and Herb Smalls. There was also a US Army Ranger. The Ranger was explaining that he was from Camp Merrill, just south of Cooper Gap. This was an Army Ranger School. He said he just stopped by to let everyone know there would be a little training exercise going on that night but that it would be far enough away that no one would be bothered.
Düg's spider-sense tingled. He knew better. He had been in the Military and he could speak the lingo. "Far enough away" meant just outside the shelter and "no one would be bothered" meant they were in for a wild night.
Seeing the Ranger sent him back into the no-coincidences department. After Basic Training and Tech-School, the Air Force had sent him to Camp Bullis, an Army Base, for Air Base Ground Defense Training. There Airman Page was fully trained in the M-16 Rifle, the M-60 Machine Gun, and the M-203 Grenade Launcher, among other things. He spent many days in the field covered in camouflage, digging fox-holes and manning them. His own instructor had gone to Ranger School, so coincidentally he had to have come here. Thus, it was somewhat significant to him that there he was, fresh out of the military, and right back in an Army Training Camp. It was actually kind of funny. That is, until about two AM.
As evening approached a group of soldiers passed through during dinner. They were on their way to a far ridge where they would be conducting maneuvers. However, sometime during the night they must have been flanked by another group and driven back because they were now caught in an ambush, right in front of the shelter! It being pitch black all that could be seen were flashes of machine gun fire chattering endlessly in the night. It was rather frightening to the others but to Düg it produced an odd sensation. He had to laugh.
Many years ago he had discovered Robert Anton Wilson, a ribald writer with a penchant for paradigm popping prose. He had written the definitive farce, along with Robert Shea, called the Illuminatus Trilogy. One prevailing theme of this work was the concept of synchronicity, that there are no coincidences. This was a classic example. Indeed, for him,it would have been unusual if something like this didn't happen. Still, he felt bad for the others.
"At 04:03 PM 1/11/97 -0600, David Craft wrote:
Camp Merrill is in northern Ga, just off the trail. Airborne or some other >serious group trains there. The camp is named after a famous WWII (?) >officer, "Merrill's Marauders". John Wayne or some other macho stud played >Merrill in a movie. Their training does go into the trail area, however the >soldiers are penalized for contact with civvies."
"The 'serious group' is the US Army Rangers. Camp Merrill is a training post. Soldiers completing Ranger school spend three weeks there during the mountain phase of training. They learn basic mountain climbing and infantry patrol work in rough terrain. The Ranger school is considered the toughest leadership school in the Army. Many of the students you might see are only operating on 2-3 hours of sleep a night and as few as a single MRE meal per day. The successful ones do this over 9 weeks in the red clay of Ga., the Appalachians, the Fla. swamps and the Utah desert. Think of it as the thru-hike from hell. Cadets from North Georgia College, a state military college, as well as from the Civil Air Patrol, also train around Merrill."
Jim Greenway
By dawn all signs of a battle were gone except for shell casings and the smell of burnt gun-powder. It was gearing up to be a beautiful day and a few of the gang were gearing up as well. Coot and Tumbleweed were making what would come to be their trademark, patent-pending, early morning departure even as almost everyone else was still waking up. Harold was quick on their heels. AT had the most stuff. His pack seemed twice his size. Most of it was camera equipment. In contrast, Mountain Mama appeared well accustomed to keeping it light. They were next to leave. Apparently Düg was not the only slacker. Herb Smalls was still enjoying a leisurely cup of java. Herb had the right approach. He was out there to enjoy himself. Düg got under way about 30 minutes later.
Suches Life
Düg descended into Hightower Gap. Then, after crossing USFS 42, he blazed on to Horse Gap and began his ascent up Sassafras Mountain (3,336 ft).
Next came a steep ascent up Justus Mountain (3,224 ft). From there the Trail descended into a saddle before continuing over Phyllis Spur where he ran into AT and Mountain Mama. They were just passing Coot and Tumbleweed. This leap-frogging would continue all the way to Virginia.
The Trail then continued down into Devils Kitchen. This was an area like many in Georgia where the Trail seemed to wind like Tesla Coils through the landscape. Düg had a name for these types of trails. He called them Sidewinders. Georgia seemed to be filled with Sidewinders. After a time he wound up at Gooch Gap Shelter where he decided to stay for the evening. Harold was already there as was Donald. As the afternoon progressed, the rank and file stumbled in. Coot and Tumbleweed decided to pitch a tent. They had a really neat tent called the Crescent. It looked like a half dome. Before sunset, Herb Smalls stumbled in, completing the octet.
"By some amazing fortune, all eight of us have made it to Gooch Gap Shelter. The climb up Sassafras Mtn was a royal burden to the loins and that was only a third of today's journey. My bones and muscles ache and have tightened into complete exhaustion. What's worse, tomorrow will be a big day - 13 miles to Blood Mtn. plus 3 miles round trip to Suches. Consolation resides in the glory of shipping about ten to fifteen pounds of equipment home. Nevertheless, tomorrow will make or break me."from "Did Ed Garvey Sleep Here?"
A Record of the Thruhike of The Agnostic Monk, circa 01988
The next day, Coot and Tumbleweed were gone by sunrise. Again they were quickly followed by Harold, Mountain Mama and AT. A certain cabin fever had set in during the night and the early start was indicative of a race to push ahead, to break away from the pack. Düg had caught the bug as well. He too pushed off early leaving behind Herb and Don still making breakfast. He had a long day. He decided he needed to mail his tent home from Suches or be crushed beneath it's weight.
Coincidentally, when he arrived at Woody Gap, so too had Beth and Chandra, but from Suches. They were fellow thru-hikers who had met a lady the day before. She offered to cook dinner and let them spend the night and they had accepted. Chandra described a fabulous home cooked meal. Düg explained that he was on his way to the Post Office. The lady was only too happy to give him a ride in to town. He was beginning to learn just how friendly many folks were to thru-hikers.
Back on the Trail, he felt a burning desire to make up for lost time. But apparently he hadn't lost much because there on the top of Big Cedar Mountain(3,737 ft), was Beth and Chandra. He stayed a few minutes to enjoy an excellent view of Woody Lake and the town they had just left behind. Then he continued on.
Down the ridge, the Trail crossed several logging roads. There were a few moments where it became difficult to follow and he almost made a few wrong turns. If he had not been paying close attention he might have gotten lost. The Trail crossed, re-crossed and occasionally even followed dozens of old logging roads. The directions were at times vague. Somehow he managed to find his way to the top of Burnett Field Mtn (3,487 ft). There he met Hazel who was also hiking the Trail.
Losing the tent was like finding out you've been driving with the parking brake on. Suddenly, Düg was filled with speed. He put it into gear and practically ran over Gaddis Mtn (3,545 ft), and Turkey Mtn. (3,770 ft). Finally, late in the afternoon, he reached Blood Mtn (4,461 ft).
"According to Indian legend, a battle fought on Blood Mountain between the Cherokees and the Creeks was so fierce that the mountain 'ran red with blood.' Lichenous plants covering its rocky slopes have a reddish hue."Appalachian Trail Guide: North Carolina-Georgia 7th edition, p131
Atop Blood Mountain were spectacular views and panoramic vistas. Near the summit was a stone two-room shelter where Düg had planned to spend the night. But it was cold and damp in there and he was feeling spunky. So he pressed on the remaining 2.1 miles to Neels Gap and the Walasi-Y Center.
"A few words from the Happy Grapefruit of '87:'Best advice I can give any new hiker is to carry four days only of food and make Neels Gap their first mail drop."The 1988 Philosopher's Guide
The Walasi-Y Center, run by Jeff and Dorothy Hansen, was a genuine Hiker's Haven. It was a first class Hiking Store, a Hiker Inn, a Laundromat, a lunch counter and so much more. Unfortunately, the Hiker Inn was full. It was a busy year for thru-hikers.
Just then, he ran into AT. AT had come back to the center just in case Düg might happen to make it there that night. When AT and Mountain Mama had gotten there earlier in the day, it had been full as well. Luckily, the Hansens had worked out arrangements with Keith and Retter Bailey who owned Goose Creek Cabins down the road.
AT extended an invitation to Düg, to share the cabin he had rented with Harold and Mountain Mama. Düg gratefully accepted.
After a long hot shower, the four went out to dinner. There, they met Rebecca -- AT Hike for the Homeless, and Ken Bushpig, two other northbounders. They also discovered an interesting fact about the surrounding counties. They were dry. That is to say, they did not serve alcohol. There, in the Bible Belt, prohibition had not been repealed. But that was ok because Keith Bailey was a good friend to thru-hikers. He was glad to drive all the way to a county where there was alcohol just so everyone could enjoy a beer. Thanks Keith!
The next morning, Düg awoke in pain. He could barely walk. The tendons behind the knee of his left leg had become sorely enflamed with tendonitis. Worse, he discovered that there were problems with his pack.
©Copyright 09/24/02000. Fresh Ink. All rights reserved
