The PCT – Desert Sec. – Days 7 – 14

Day 7 – 0 miles

I wasn’t planning on taking a zero so early on the trip, but I sure am glad I did when I saw how miserably cold it was in Julian. I don’t want to know how bad it was on trail. I spent the morning sipping coffee and working on this blog.

At some point someone decide we should go out and get our free slice of pie at Mom’s. If you show your PCT permit, they’ll give you a piece of pie, ice cream and a drink! I got Apple Caramel Crumb with Cinnamon Ice Cream and a hot spiced cider. It was so delicious! I’ve heard some people say it’s not worth it come into Julian for the pie, but I didn’t listen because I don’t need that kind of negativity in my life. Also it’s free pie.

Did some more walking around and then came back to watch Stranger Things. It’s back to the trail in the morning!

Day 8 – 13 miles

Got a lift back to the Sunrise trailhead and hopped back on trail. The sun was shining and the breeze was cooling. The first few miles went by fast with big open views that kept me smiling.

Then the trail dropped quite suddenly and sharply into a canyon and the trail felt a little bit like the AT. I stopped at the bottom to have lunch as I has no chance of catching up to Bethany and Chris. One PB and dried fruit roll up later Austin comes around the corner in his new shoes. We had left him in Julian this morning to buy new shoes as I think he was finally convinced the old ragged Nikes he’d been sporting might have something to do with his ankle pain.

At some point I knew I’d have to climb out of this canyon and shouldered my pack to get to it. I found Bethany and Chris at the next water source, which was a water tank off a dirt road. We did some yoga on top of the concrete tank. Well they did yoga. I mostly rolled around in pain trying to strike some sort of pose.

The air was cooling and we decided to push on to a further campsite. It was a surprisingly tough bit of trail climbing up and down canyon walls. Again, like the AT.

Camp was a flat-ish spot of sand that one might consider a wash. I kept smelling weed which freaks me out now, because that can mean Poodle Dog Bush is nearby. Or some people are having a “safety meeting” (what they call smoking on the trail). Either way, not cool man!

Day 9 – 17.9 miles

The walk down to Scissors Crossing was kind of epic in the morning. You cross a huge flat plain with mountain ranges in the distance and the wind kicking up. Once you are on the “bottom of the bowl” you can’t see the road or anything else that looks like civilization and you feel totally alone, like in an apocalyptic movie. But then someone comes along behind you to bring you back to reality and you realize that there is a bridge with water and trail magic up ahead to get to. If your next thought is Yay! I get to sit under a bridge and drink water, then you either might be me or a bridge troll.

After a bit of a break I began the climb up and over one of those mountain ranges that weren’t so distant anymore. Looking up from the bottom it seems impossible, or at least improbable that it could be completed in a day, but switchback after switchback brings you closer to the “top”. I put top in quotations because you don’t really go to the peak on the PCT, just right under it on a ridgeline, rounding the mountain to another one.

I found some shade and Bethany and Chris as well. They are faster than me at the moment, but tend to take longer breaks which keeps us about even on pace and within the same walking group. They moved on before me though.

About 3 miles into the afternoon stretch I encountered a rattlesnake. I was bopping along and almost stepped on it because it was in the trail. How rude. The yelp that came out of my mouth was so screechy and foreign sounding I looked around to see if anyone was behind me only to notice that I had FLEW backwards 6 feet. Well then. The snake didn’t rattle its rattle which I could very clearly see that it one and I told it that it was a breach of protocol to not give me some amount of warning. Instead it sat there hissing like an angry cat and breathing like one too. I could see it’s little snake belly inflating as it hissed its annoyance at me. I tried throwing some rocks near it to get it moving but the snake stubbornly sat on the impassable trail. I guess it got tired of hissing because after five minutes it side winded off into the bushes never taking its beady little eyes off me.

Well that kinda took the wind out of my sails, but I tried to push on. After another grueling climb it started to get cold and windy and I just wanted to lie down. I looked for the first flat spot I could find and made camp.

Day 10 – 14.6 miles

I got started kinda late as I was feeling fatigued. Also I “slept” on a slant, so I wasn’t feeling great. The third gate water cache was only a mile away, so I hurried there for morning time things. Also found Bethany and Chris there too. We decided to go to the market in Ranchita together, where apparently a shower could be had. The 10 miles there flew by with occasional stops to admire Horned Toads and to briefly acknowledge the 100 mile mark.

We got to the market which was a hiker central and took showers in the creepiest building. The desert people are an odd bunch and their idea of offering a service is not what I’m used to. I’m sure the same could be said for eastern mountain folk. But I was able to get some more snacks and hang out with the Yeti statue, so overall – a win.

Got back to trail and walked through some of the prettiest valleys. Big wide open spaces with a single path winding through it. One particular hillside reminded me of that Windows green hill wallpaper.

The campsite was San Ysidro creek which was a nice little green oasis of Oaks and an actual creek. The frogs came out at night time sing loudly and there were turkeys patrolling the outer perimeter.

Day 11 – 12 ish miles

This morning while digging my cat hole a turkey flew down from a tree above me and nearly scared me, well…. shitless. Those things are loud (and surprising) when flying.

Being near water made everything on my tent damp, especially my inner tent walls. But I got packed up and going early into the oddly misty morning. The climb was tolerable and I made it to some more open pasture lands but it was all covered in mist so that you could only see a few feet ahead. I kept wondering if I made it to the end of the game board.

A couple miles up was Eagle Rock, which doesn’t look like much from the side, but once you get in front of it, you’re like – oh it is an Eagle! Because of the mist there was a weak colored but perfectly formed rainbow framing the whole thing. Got my picture and kept moving because even at 0700 it is a very popular spot.

The pasturelands continued. As I crested on hill a herd of mostly brown cows stood on the path. Just standing there staring at me. I shooed them, but that didn’t seem to motivate them to move. Of course I had to ask them to moooooooove. They didn’t think it funny. I started walking towards them and they sort of shuffled away. A lighter brown cow with a white face kept eyes on me the whole time.

After the pasture was some pretty creek side walking complete with trees and grass, which was welcome.

I got to Warner Springs around 1030, and had to walk a road mile to get my resupply box. For some reason non-trail miles always see like a chore. Sat around and sorted my stuff and got back on trail with Bethany and Chris (who I will now refer to as B&C for brevity sake). We made it 3 whole miles to a creek where we promptly layed down and napped after eating lunch in the grass.

Photo by Bethany

The campsite was near Aqua Caliente creek and there we met some younger folks who apparently thought it would be a good idea to have a campfire. I wasn’t present for this as I already went to my tent. Luckily another hiker gave them a talking to, because no matter how careful you are it is really hard to out run a forest fire, especially in such a flammable state.

Day 12 – 18 miles

It was a big long climb out of the canyon that housed the creek. Lucky for us, it was cloudy and windy for most of the morning. I’m sure there was a pretty view out there. Around 1000 the trail cleared one side of the mountain went into totally different terrain, full of brush and thorns. At one point it felt like I was getting into a fight with the trail and losing badly.

Photo by Chris

Lunch was at the next water source, a water tank at Mike’s place. The tank itself was halfway down a private driveway and in years past hikers could go down to the house and stay or chill for awhile. I had heard conflicting reports of abandonment and possible squatters so I just got the water and left to eat lunch with B&C at the top of the hill.

After some time the heat wore off, but not enough. We climbed up 5 miles to our campsite, a lovely little grove of manzanita that shielded us from the wind

Day 13 – 15.2 miles

The morning was warm which should have been my first warning. I got going at 0650, so I was a little late, but the miles went fast until about 1030. There was a long and exposed climb out of a canyon that seemed to go on forever. My steps got slower and heavier. Every though I had plenty of water it was just So. Dang. Hot.

That is a water source

I found two large boulders that created a hallway of shade and promptly sat down for a break. It was only 1100. My breathing evened and my face stopped feeling like a red tomato. I turned to eating my lunch and gazing at the climb before me. A few brave hikers kept going and I could see their distant forms moving through the waves of heat.

B&C caught up to me and we all wallowed in the shade. For some reason I felt like 1400 was a good time to start packing up and walking. It felt cooler to me, but apparently not enough once outside the shade. The next four miles were some of the longest I’ve ever walked. I was just zombie walking and slowed to a shuffle. The next water source was a delightful water tank maintained by a trail angel named Mary. She even had covered picnic benches and a little library. I shuffled in, grunted a response to the general vicinity of people and lay down in the shade.

I came to around 30 minutes later and drank a liter of water. The air actually started to get cool around this time and we contemplated moving further on. I decided I needed a town day, the next being Idyllwild. I was stinky beyond all redemption and needed a morale boosting shower. Also I needed to find a dowel to fix part of my tent that I lost somewhere. And get some sun gloves (they are so red!)

I told B&C this who were sad to be parting ways. They have a tight schedule to keep and are moving fast to keep it. To be honest I’m surprised I’ve been keeping up with them. They said we had to have a farewell breakfast at the Paradise Valley Cafe the next morning.

Day 14 – 3.6 miles

I woke quickly because I didn’t really sleep. I hadn’t noticed the slant when I set up my tent, but it became quite apparent everytime I rolled over into my tent wall. Anyways today was town day! And hot food at a Cafe! My steps were quick and B&C were not far behind. Before we knew it we were tucking into some breakfast food at Paradise Valley Cafe, which is a popular PCT stop as it is only a mile off trail.

It was at breakfast that B&C said they were going to Idyllwild too for various reasons. So the gang doesn’t get broken up! I found us a ride from the trail angel list in the restuarant.

Herk was a soft spoken mountain man looking fellow who drove a 1990 Toyota truck. It only had room up front for one passenger so B&C and another hiker named Yeti rode the in the camper covered bed. It was a hot 30 minute drive and with the windows down it was hard to hear the dulcet tones of Herk.

I was nodding along and apparently had agreed to a tour of the town – all of this unbeknownst to the passengers in the back who had eaten huge breakfast burritos and were bouncing around on 32 year old suspension. Idyllwild is not that big but he had decided we needed to see the furthest cardinal point at each end of town and then make a big U turn. Each time he did this B&C and Yeti would attempt to exit through the skimpy latched tailgate only to be thrown back into the bed.

Meanwhile up front Herk is giving me insider knowledge unaware of the turmoil in the back. I noticed by the third U turn and when we passed by the Inn without stopping I heard “If we turn around again I’m jumping out!” Finally Herk dropped us off at the Inn and my bewildered companions fumbled out of the back in a hurry. I thanked him gave him a tip, and turned to my new buddies like “what?”

I’m still giggling about it.

Anyways I’m showered, laundered, and I’m gonna relax before what promises to be a grueling stretch of the San Jacinto mountains.

The PCT – Desert Sec. – Days 0-6

Day 0 – Campo, California (CLEEF campsite)

Today was loooooong. I got up at 0300 EST in Columbus, GA and it is now 1700 PST in Campo, CA. You do the math. My flights were delayed and I would have missed my shuttle, if the nice shuttle co-owner hadn’t graciously driven me and another late hiker in her personal vehicle! Thanks Dee!

At the campsite in Campo, a section of this facility is sectioned off for PCT thru hikers to start and run by trail angels Legend, Papa Bear, and a motley crew of rotating characters. Every night they hold a spaghetti or burger group dinner and Legend gave a beautiful (if not practiced) speech about the magic of the trail. This camp is only a quarter mile from the monument and entirely run on donations.

It was very windy. TBC….

Day 1 (AAAAAAHHHHH!!!!) – 11.3 miles (@mile 11.3)

Like I said it was windy. At 0530 my tent violently collasped on my supine form in a gust, snapping me awake with a vigor. I crawled out of my DCF and down coocoon and haplessly looked down at the mess I’d have to somehow wrangle into my pack. The wind cut through my sleep clothes, so I quickly set about my job.

There was a morning pancake breakfast that I wasn’t going to stick around for. I had a trail to start! I said bye to the few hikers awake, knowing they’d pass my slow butt soon enough. I took the dirt road up to the monument at the border, only a quarter mile. Once there a nice lady (whose name I never got) asked me some questions about hyperthermia and whether I had a permit, handed me a tag, and took my picture while I signed the register. Border patrol came blasting down the dirt road in a show of machismo, so I didn’t try to go stick my hand in Mexico through the wall like a lot of hikers will do.

I walked down to the first PCT marker and took my first official step towards Canada. It was very surreal. I’ve been preparing for this day for over three years (not as long as some, but enough for me) and HERE I WAS. DOING THE THING. Instinct told me to savor this moment – the beginning, the potential for all the things to come, and the relief of knowing you are where you need to be right now…and then some more hikers came along also excited for their start so I moved along, giving them their space.

The first mile winds back down through the scrub brush to CLEEF and crosses through the tiny hamlet of Campo. There are a bunch of crows out here, which surprised me. Seeing their sleek black forms playing in the wind seemed like a encouraging sign.

BREATHE IN: I can do this, I am capable, I am adaptable. The first real vista of the desert ahead was a record scratch moment. It is definitely different in real life because you can’t feel the wide open expansiveness through a picture. Feel the heat, wind, or weight of water on your back and down through to your feet. I could feel a little fear and doubt creeping in. What was I thinking? In my shape and health? Out here in such unfamiliar territory? Far away from family and friends? All by myself??? What was I thinking? BREATHE OUT: I can do this, I am capable, I am adaptable.

I started this trail with several intentions, but I never got too specific. It became clear in that first couple of miles, that I would have to clarify and cement my goals for this journey in order to bolster my mental strength (which TBH isn’t the strongest). I contemplated this as I weaved through the dusty hills of the desert, noting the strange and unfamiliar plant life. I found myself comparing it to being on an alien planet like something out of Star Trek.

I made it to the only known water source for the first 20 miles at mile 4.4. I loaded up to capacity at 5 liters and the added weight of all that water went straight to my hips. Gradually the hills opened up to bigger vistas and harder climbs. I stopped at the first bit of shade that coincidently had a nice view and ate lunch. There I met a nice lady from Montreal, but I had feeling I wouldn’t be seeing much of her because she seemed like a fast walker (and I was right).

After lunch it was a race to more shade and the stopping point for the evening. The sun beat down on my orange sherbert sun hoodie making everything glow. Light was EVERYWHERE! Bouncing off of rocks. Reflecting off shiny plants. Sparkling in the sand. This was my first indication that maybe I shouldn’t walk through the heat of the day (more on this later), but I stubbornly trudged on. I made it the campsite at 1430, which was early but I was BEAT (TM). The sun/heat drained away any and all of that peppy energy I started with. I plopped down on the bare rock under some shady manzanitas, chugged half a liter, and promply fell asleep.

When I woke the camp had filled with people, their bright blues and oranges flitting about the scrub like birds. I found out the site was mostly filled with couples, one from the Netherlands! By the way, I’ve noticed the PCT seems to be popular with the Dutch and Australians this year. I pitched my tent on some hard sand, weighing the stakes down with heavy rocks so my tent would stay in its desired position through out the night. I ate some cold soaked cous cous and promptly went back to sleep, leaving the brightly frocked couples to their chatter. Briefly I worried about seeming like an anti-social recluse – the curmudgeonly troll in the bushes – but then I remembered that I’m not out here to please anybody…so there. Nyah.

Day 2 – 11.7 miles (@ mile 23)

Blessedly my tent stayed upright all night long and I slept deeply until 0500 when I woke for no reason and without an alarm. Weird.

The rest of camp was stirring as I shouldered my pack and walked into the inky darkness. My headlamp made weird shapes of all the unfamiliar plants. The sun rose rapidly, all of a sudden saying I’M HERE! I walked along a ridgeline looking down into Hauser canyon and zoomed down a dirt road to the descent into said canyon.

It was about 0800 when I reached Hauser creek and stopped for my Second Breakfast. The creek was dry from the current drought California is experiencing. I still had 3 liters of water though from the day before. After some stretching and repacking, I set about to get The Climb over.

Everyone who starts a thru hike of the PCT is warned about the climb out of Hauser canyon. Multiple hikers have been rescued in the week I started alone. I thought getting there early would be a good idea.

Apparently I didn’t get there early enough. The sun blasted down from above with no mercy. There was zero wind to ease the heat and the path was exposed with little shade to offer respite. I’d walk a couple feet, huffing out of breath, and stop. The weight of my pack seemed to pull me backwards into the shade below. I drank half a liter in 10 minutes and looking up saw that the trail wasn’t even a tenth done.

I began to realize how different the actual trail was from what I was used to – the Appalachians. In those mountains the trail usually goes straight up the mountain with zero switch backs and straight down. The grade is extreme and often an actual path is non-exisent. I walk that trail by hitching my pack high up on my back, pulling on my trekking poles, and just busting up the thing until the top. This does not work on the gentle never ending climbs of the PCT. I quickly tired out and realized I had so much longer to go. It is a difference between multiple sprints and a marathon. You get the same place, but you’ll manage your energy differently.

My left hip started hurting really bad and made the climb even more miserable. I had to stop and stretch every 10 minutes. At one point I could have stayed and rested there for a few hours, but the goal was to get to Lake Morena and an actual real Cheeseburger. It meant punching through my mental wall, but also letting my frustration and pain be what it was. This was happening, and I knew I could make it through. I wasn’t expecting to butt up against my mental resisitance so early, but here I was.

Walk, drink, stop/stretch, and repeat until I made to the famed Lake Morena Malt shop. I limped my way up and quickly shucked my pack to go into the air conditioning. It was a real pleaure. Full on a rather large cheeseburger, I meandered over to Lake Morena to lay underneath a tree and nap. I saw some people I’ve been leap frogging around, but stayed to myself for the most part.

After a few hours in the shade and much stretching, I finally packed up and headed out onto trail around 1700. I was only going 3 more miles to a campsite that promised a wonderful sunset, per Guthook (the map app I use). There was a bit of a climb, but my hip seemed to handle it well and before I knew it I was upon my chosen campsite. Another hiker named Luda was already there. He was cowboy camping, which is something I’ve not had the courage to try yet. I like my DCF coocoon of privacy. It gives me a false sense of safety, I think.


A sunset was indeed had and I went to sleep early. Something I noticed is that the desert is QUIET. No katydids or crickets, no leaf crunching, no sticks breaking. Nothing but the occassional sounds of planes high up, and wind if it’s there. It’s peaceful, but odd. And it made me realise my tinnitus is really bad. The sound of nothing is deafening.

Day 3 – 11.3 miles (@ mile 34.3)

I actually kind of got hot overnight and had to take off my sleeping fleece. I got going around 0600 with a smile on my face, which is still wild to me considering I used to think getting going early was such a struggle. I winded down through some boulders and saw the lights of cars speeding along a highway in the distance. Once I got down into the valley and near the vegetation it quickly got chilly and I had to put my puffy on. I sped along a dry creek bed with the sun peeking over a mountain range to the east. A fog seemed to hang over the hills as I made my way to Boulder Oaks Campground and some of the cleanest pit toilets I’ve ever seen. I’d spend the night in them!

Crossing under the I-8, started a long ascent into the mountains Cleveland National Forest. The sun was blocked on the side I was walking for the first few hours by the mountain itself. Soon though I curved around into the direct sun and even at 1000 it was blazingly hot. For about two miles it was a climb up with no shade. I could feel the salt crystals forming as my sweat evaporated, almost like I was being salted as they do pork or fish. Eventually I made it to some small trees that offered little succor, but it was a break.

There was promise of trail magic at Cibbets Flats Campground (from the thru hiker grapevine), I just had to make it there. So I stumbled through it, surprising myself when I realized I’d already did the thing and saw the sign. The deal was sweetened by an offer of a free ride back to trail (the campground was 0.8 miles down a steep dirt road).

Snakes, dehydration, exposure, and NOW THIS?!?

I stumbled into the place through fresh smelling campers lazily having fun and found the thru hikers site where cold Gatorade and a turkey sandwich waited! Huzzah! It was a hiker feed hosted by a mother and daughter trail angel team. Shade, cold drinks, and food – I was happy. I also found Luda and the Dutch couple. I met another couple from Texas (a lot of couples on this trail), and the gal was an ICU nurse. The conversation turned morbid and dark as it does when you get nurses talking about their job, but everyone seemed supportive and undestanding. I went to the toilets to put an end to my part in the discussion as I felt the anger trigger trying to turn on. When I got back, they were onto the much lighter fare of digging cat holes in the desert. FYI, it’s like literal kitty litter. I’ve never had such an easy time of digging a poop hole. TMI?

More people started showing up, and it became crowded with people laughing and sharing stories. I started to feel some kind of way, especially when the beer and liquor got passed around.

QUICK SIDE NOTE: I guess this is a good a time as any to note that I am currently practicing sobriety. For many reasons, the strongest being a reaction to the pandemic, I was pickling my liver with the booze and about 6 months ago began to explore the reality of not “drinking my pain away”. I read The Naked Mind by Annie Grace and it seemed to stick that I might be strong enough to do this. After many slip ups and I’m sure many more, I’m now commited to this practice.

So anyways, I don’t really mind being around people who are drinking in small numbers, but in large groups, and all of them strangers? I thought it might be better if I went back to the trail. A lot of the hikers would be sleeping in this campground and I didn’t think it would do me any good to be around them all night. My overwhelmed brain was doing the klaxon noise and I quickly asked to be driven back to the trail head even thought it was still hot AF.

I was only going 1.3 more miles up the trail, through the blistering late afternoon sun. The heat was emanating from the ground and boulders like an oven. Oh and obviously from above too. But once I made it to camp, I knew I made the right decision. A dense thicket of scrub oak provided shade and cooled the area where I’d be sleeping. There was just enough room for my tent and I peeled off my sweaty hiking shirt for a dry one. Yes, I made the right decision, I thought as I lay in my cool tent and watched the sunset turn the canyon muted oranges and pinks. After all it’s hard to practice sobriety if you are drunk.

Day 4 – 7.2 miles (@41.5)

I am stinky. Everything is stinky. I had heard Mount Laguna had a wonderful restuarant run by a french couple that had a breakfast to die for…and also a coin laundry. So I packed up ealier than my PCT usual and got going at 0530 (!!what??) It was cool and breezy up and out of that canyon. The sun eventually peaked it’s fiery head over the eastern horizon, but a the breeze kept most of the heat off.

I was hiking fast for me, but I kept worrying about the other hikers blasting past me. I don’t know why it is a constant nagging thought and had to tell myself to stop letting comparison get the better of me. I’d go at my own pace and get there when I get there. But I think it’s a natural instinct to want to categorize and rank the situations you are in. Judgey Me is a real bitch and really works to ruin my day.

I call this the thru hiker All American Special. I just need my half of the waffle Dad!

Then the Pines started appearing! And I forgot all about Judgey McJudgeFace. TREES! PINE TREES! I didn’t realize how much I would miss their presense. Soon I was crunching along a path of old pine needles and feeling refreshed. My step quickened the closer I got to Mount Laguna and before I knew it I was sitting down to a cheesey and bacon-y omelette with tangy sourdough toast.

I managed to get a place in the PCT crash pad which was basically a tiny room where you slept on the floor. It was $25 and had access to a shower and kitchen. Also, there was one futon in the room and since I was there first, I claimed it as my domain for the day. I showered, I laundered, and I lounged. I met a German gal and we spent the afternoon doing the compare my country with yours thing. We went back to the Pine Cafe and had Four Cheese Ravioli (so good!)

Came back to the “room” and tried to fall asleep. The futon was comfortable enough, but I was so itchy. (Weird Laundry detergent?) I evenutally took two Benadryls and fell alseep. A storm was coming on Monday that everyone was going to stay in town for, but I didn’t want to waste a day waiting around and spending money. My point: I wanted to get to sleep early and I don’t usually medicate myself for that, but I really needed some sleep.

Day 5 – 14.5 miles (@ mile 56)


I woke later than I planned, but still early. The people there were going to stay in Mount Laguna to wait out the storm in two days, so they were still sleeping. I realized I lost my green yogurt spoon, but luckily enough found a random plastic spoon in the hiker box. I packed quietly and stepped out into a sleepy morning.

Back on trail, the dreamy quality of the light continued as the sun rose slowly over the mountains gradually waking everything up. I was on a ridgeline overlooking a wide vista and saw the sharp gradiation from cool blues to warmer tones. I was still in the pines and it felt a little like walking in woods at home. I saw a huge golf ball thingy that the USAF owns. It became a referernce point to how far I’ve gone through out the day.

Eventually the trees thinned out and I was walking along a mountain top in the full on wind with views out for miles! The subtle color hues of the desert on full display, with the warm ochers, and suprising greens and blues. The views went on for miles, with no trees obstructing the distance. You could see where the path was going to in the distance (a rare thing on the AT). Even though the sun was on full blast, the wind actually made it cold and I had to keep reminding myself to drink water.

I made to Pioneer Mail Picnic Area for lunch and met some folks who had an Airbnb available in Julian and offered me some space during the storm. How synchronistic! I’d been thinking I should figure this whole rain thing out. Originally I’d been telling people I’d just walk though it, after all if you didn’t walk in the rain on the AT you’d never get anywhere. But some of the more expreinced West Coasters were warning me of the high winds and lack of cover being more of the problem and that perhaps I’d want to wait it out. The problem being that everything in Julian (the next town up) was booked or prohibitively expensive. So it was with great surprise and gratitude that I accetped Chris & Bethany’s offer to take one of the rooms. They’d booked a huge Airbnb themselves and were looking for hikers to share it with. On trail it isn’t a weird thing to be comfortable finding total strangers to share a space with.

They were going to hike on though and try to hitch in Julian, but I wanted to spend one more night out on the trail. I found a secluded spot at the top of Oriflamme Canyon that was only another 3.4 miles. There was a huge boulder and brush to block most of the winds. I decided tonight was the night I’d try cowboy camping for the first time. Why? With rain coming? I honestly don’t know.

This is a water source.

I watched the stars come out after the sunset, which was fun. I had forgotten how they just kind of appear all of sudden as the light dims. There were the obnoxiously bright lights of the airplanes going to San Diego every 10 minutes. At first I didn’t know what they were, and the seemed hover on the horizon in a weird way (ALIENS?!?!) until they got closer and you could see it was in fact an airplane (not aliens). The night stayed clear and surprisingly warm and I think I fell asleep around the 8th airplane, kinda like counting sheep.

Day 6 – 4 miles to Sunrise Trailhead (@ mile 59 5)

Welp, boulders and shrubs can only do so much. Around 0430 in the morning, the wind kicked up and I could see in the ambient night light that clouds were blowing in. I decided there was no reason to keep sleeping, so I gathered my things in a hurry, brushed my teeth and set off.

The wind bullied me up and down that canyon. OHHHHHH I thought, this is why no one wants to be out here in a storm! There were small corners of the trail that were sheltered and I managed to eat a bar while watching the sun rise through the clouds over Salton Sea in the distance.

I got to the Sunrise Trailhead on the highway and sat in the pit toilet to warm my fingers up. There was no traffic at this time of morning anyway, so wasn’t going to stand out in the cold wind with no hope of a hitch. Eventually though I went out to wait and see, and then another group of hikers showed up and we all commiserated on our pitiful state. In a stroke of serendipity, a man in a camper van rolled up and we crammed everybody and all our things in there. And so we went to Julian.

Everyone in the van wanted to go to the coffee shop once we reached town, but I hunted heartier fare, so I stopped at the Julian Cafe for a Corned Beef Hash Omelette. I sat by myself as I do, but oddly enough the driver also showed up and I shared my booth with him. He said his daughter was doing the trail and he was just bumming along, camping in his van in the desert as a sort of support in case she needed it. (ah-hem…Dad?)

We parted ways and I went walking through the ridiculously cute town main street. I went to the general store and picked up some snacks because I didn’t pack enough food (I thought I’d be going faster than I am). The proprietor of one establishment ran out and bade me to come inside for free hot cider and a snack pack of chocolate covered bananas. Don’t have to tell me twice, as it was already getting blustery and cold. The cider was topped with whipped cream and cinnamon, and I sipped it in front of their fire place. What a life.

Julian is known for its apples and the fact that you get a free slice of pie at Mom’s Pie Shop if you show your permit. I think there is a bit of pie rivalry going on, because I read in the Julian Cafe’s menu blurb, that they were voted best pie in San Diego. Fascinated by the town’s pie history I went from store to store, and eventually bumped in to Bethany and Chris in the Olde Goat buying lotion. More serendipity! They walked me to the house we were staying in and I took a shower in the oldest tub in Julian. (It was the first house to get plumbing). After a short nap, we all went to the brewery and I had a wonderful pork sandwich, but apparently the pizza is where it’s at. It was pouring rain and I am definitely glad I made the decision to come into Julian and take zero tomorrow. And that I randomly met Chris, Bethany, and Austin (the other “roommate”) at that picnic area. It’s funny how things work out on the trail. Like magic.

Prologue: The Pacific Crest Trail

Yep. I’m doing it again. Thru hiking.

This time I’m going out west to the Pacific Crest trail (PCT). Why? Author and Hiker Sarah Wilson puts it best:

“It seems to have put its hand up for the job of being my teacher in this lifetime. And vigilant student that I am, I keep going back to have the raw, honest, story-steeped land pummel me with its teachings.”

If you didn’t know, the PCT stretches 2,650 arduous miles from the border of Mexico in California to the border of Canada in Washington. A northbound hiker will test their grit through the desert, the treacherous Sierras, the varied landscapes of Oregon, and the hopefully snow free Cascade mountain range. Water is more of a concern in the beginning, and then snow becomes the ever present threat when you reach the Sierras.

This trail will be different from the Appalachians in many ways. Obviously it is further away from my home of Georgia. I will truly be out there on my own. There will less chance of getting help from people I know. There fewer towns and I hear the trail has less of a social atmosphere than the AT…which I’m not mad about.

Below is a map.

I’ve been spending the past three years fine tuning and whittling down my gear. I’ve come to the conclusion, I desire comfort over being lightweight. And yet, there are still many things I’ve done away with. I wonder what the PCT will teach me.

I can never make a cool looking gear picture, but more importantly all that stuff fits into my pack. <——My pack list

I chose not to bring my big ass camera, and to instead go with my phone and the Osmo for video purposes. I still haven’t even put together a video from my last trip. It gets kind of overwhelming. But I’m going to need something to do in 6 months while I recuperate from this crazy adventure I’m about to embark on.

You can follow along here on this blog. I’ll update it as I can. Also I’ll post on Instagram @a.worthwhile.adventure

That’s about all I’ve got for right now.

The Great 8: Days 29 – 36

Day 29 – 0 miles

I took a zero day at Standing bear. Mostly I just fought with my phone and the wifi connection so that I could upload my blog. It wasn’t a very restful time and that place wasn’t very peaceful.

I’ve decided now that the schedule/plan/timing of the BMT is complete I can treat the next part of the Smokies as an acutal vacation. Im not going to worry about miles or timing. I’ll get there when I get there.

Day 30 – 10.4 miles

Slowly I meandered out of Standing Bear to make my way back to the AT. My destination was Cosby Knob shelter and that was 10 miles all up hill. Since I’m starting vacation mode I’m also not going to worry about how long it will take or how hard it will be.

I got back into the woods and it was amusing to note the immediate differences between the AT and the BMT. There were blazes on every surface, as if I was going to walk off the mountain. The well worn surface of the trail knew no overgrowth. Switchbacks and gentle grades! The trail itself was like a vacation. All ease and no stress.

I got to Davenport Gap Shelter and took a break. I saw a long black snake which I thought was a black water hose at first, except water hoses don’t move on their own. A trio of section hikers stopped by too and I ended up commiserating with them about how hard the BMT was.

Then it was a climb. Comparatively it was easy though. I kept passing day hikers and other backpackers. My legs felt great and ate up that incline. I was sweating buckets but I didn’t have to stop every five minutes. It felt amazing. I blazed past Mount Cammerer because I’d already seen it and there seemed to be bunch of people on trail.

Before I knew it, I was already at my destination. I don’t know if it was the manageable grade or what but it didn’t seem as energy suckingly hard as previous parts of my journey. The wonders of a well maintained trail.

Today I am grateful for feeling physically strong.

Day 31 – 13.4 miles

I both love and loathe staying in shelters. It’s easy to pack up and you stay dry. The drawback is that you have to deal with people.

I got going early because the forecast called for rain. A Saturday special. There was a bit of a view on the way up to the first ridgeline but after it started raining in earnest everything was socked in.

I ate lunch at Tricorner Shelter in order to get out of the rain. Three other NOBOs showed up dripping wet and we all lamented the chill and wetness. I was somewhat more dry than them because of my umbrella, but not by much.

After lunch it was a ridgline walk that most likely would have been beautiful if it wasn’t for the blasting winds and whited out views. There is a stretch of dead pine trees I remember from my 2018 AT thru hike that looked spooky in the mist. I took another picture of the same trees in the same mist. Apparently I’m not allowed to see that view. There was so much wind.

I made my way to Pecks Corner shelter where the temperature quickly dropped. I made moon eyes at the others in the shelter who had stoves and therefor hot food. My sad little cold soaked cous cous was filling but it wasn’t hot.

Today I am grateful that I didn’t get too wet.

Day 32 – 7.4 miles

The temperature dropped into the 30s overnight. It was a real struggle to leave my sleeping bag for the frigid morning. The half mile walk back up the trail from the shelter warmed me up good.

Most of the morning was a ridgeline walk where you could see both sides. The north side was cold and blustery while the sun warmed the south side. Cloud rivers moved against the trees and there was still frost on some of the pines.

At Bradley’s view I sat and watched the clouds make their way south. The wind kicked up leaves scattering them down the rocky descent. The chilly air made my eyes water. It is a dramatic feeling being up high like that and seeing landscape stretched out to the horizon as a meteorological event puts on a show. There is no one about and all of this (waves hand at view) could be just for you. It is for a short while and everything is possible. But there are miles to walk and more things to see so I must move on.

I got to Charlie’s Bunion where apparently everyone wanted to be today. I politely waited my turn for some picture taking and then moved onto Icewater Spring shelter where I met Tiger who came to meet me! He going to hike a few days in the Smokies with me. The sun was warming and we sat outside the shelter reminiscing and complaining. It was like the old times, a whole 3 years ago, when things were slightly less complicated for me. It was nice.

Today I am grateful for Bradley’s view.

Day 33 – 4.6 miles

In the frigid morning I woke to the promise of a hot breakfast in Gatlinburg. Tiger’s van was parked at Newfound Gap and we were going to town! Even early in the morning the trail was crowded with day hikers. This should’ve been our first hint.

For a random no-festival, non-holiday Monday, Gatlinburg was packed with tourists. All the pancake houses (its a thing) had lines out to the street. We ended up at Old Dad’s, a overpriced convenience store with a grill, where apparently “we’re out of that” is their favorite phrase. I was bummed I didn’t get my pancakes, but at least I got a hot meal.

After a resupply at Food City and a stop at McDonald’s, it was back up to the mountains. The drive was swift, right up until Clingmans Dome where traffic came to a standstill. Tiger took decisive action and turned us around to a trailhead that would take us to Mt Collins Shelter.

Despite all my warm clothing I’ve been cold AF the past few days. I got some warm socks and a bag liner at the G’burg NOC, so that maybe I could hang out at camp without putting on every article of clothing I own. I’ve also had some sinus issues, with an alternatively stuffed nose or running nose. It makes going uphill challenging, so I obtained some Alka Seltzer.

In the morning we’ll drive up to Clingmans Dome where Tiger can park and we’ll get on down the trail.

Today I am grateful that the Gatlinburg NOC had more bear socks.

Day 34 – 11.2 miles

I took a Benadryl to get through the night and had some weird dreams. I slept pretty well with all the warm things I bought in Gatlinburg. We got back up to Clingmans Dome and walked around the tower. It was nice to see the open mountain ranges without rain clouds blocking everything. There were even cloud lakes in some of the valleys.

The easy grade of the northern half of the Smokies was over. Today was a return to the wild ups and downs I was familiar with on the BMT. The difference, however, was that you got some straight aways and views occasionally. Its the little wins that keep you going. I also got to talk Tigers ear off, who I’m sure was regretting his decision to hike with me for awhile. After almost a month by myself, its quite the treat to walk and talk with a friend. It makes the miles seem to go faster.

We got to our destination shelter and found that it was quite crowded. This has been very odd for me, as I’ve been pretty much alone at camp for the past several weeks. There was much chit chattery and much socializing. It is a stark contrast to the first half of my trip. Im not sure how I feel about it.

Today I am grateful that my knee is feeling stronger.

Day 35 – 12.1 miles

Derrick Knob Shelter was jam packed with hikers so once one person started crinkling their stuff in morning everyone got moving. The bright moon was still setting through the trees when I went to get my food bag. Tiger and I got moving with the usual chattering. Tiger warned me about the upcoming trudge up Brier Knob and he wasn’t kidding. It was horrendous, but unlike the BMT it didn’t last all day.

Once we crested the ridgeline to Thunderhead the views opened up and you could see for miles. The changing leaves brightened the hills and painted the range in reds and yellows. Tiger refused to sing the Rocky Top song on top of Rocky Top even though he is supposedly a fan of Tennessee. The descent to Spence Field was grassy and mild.

Earlier Tiger had said that he was going to stay Spence Field Shelter and go back to his van in the morning. So after lunch at the shelter I said goodbye to my friend and headed off on my own again. The next few miles were a cruise so I put on a podcast and drifted in and out of awareness.

There was one last climb up Little Bald to Mollies Ridge and it was forgiving compared to earlier in the day. My sinuses have settled down (Thanks Alka Seltzer!) so I was able to breathe easier on the way up. I got to the shelter and it was all ladies for once. A guy did show up but he only ate his dinner and then moved on. So Ladies Night was back on!

Today I am grateful for sunshine on mountain tops and a friend to share it with.

Day 36 – 11.6 miles

The moon was so bright that during my usual 3am trip to the “Toilet Area” I didn’t even need my headlamp. Right around the time I was supposed to be waking up and getting ready to go it started raining heavily. So I just lay there and stared at the downpour from the nice dry shelter. However I wouldn’t be getting further along the trail just laying there, so I eventually rose to greet my last day in the Smokies.

The trail was rolling and not much to see until the Shuckstack near the end. The old fire tower was a little off trail but I wanted to see the landscape with all the moving clouds. The first time I had climbed those rickety steps, they were dry and it was sunny. Today the rain made the terrifying climb even more so. Once I made it to the top enclosure, of course it stopped raining, but it was still windy…and cold. I got a few videos and pictures, ate some snacks, and called my shuttle. Then it was back to the trail.

The business of the traffic on trail told me I was getting closer to the end. Day hikers were out to see the fall leaves and views from the tower. They gave my wet bedraggled self a wide berth. Then I was at the trailhead just like that. Back where I started the Lakeshore Trail, so that the northern loop is complete! I love the Smokies (even the BMT part) and am a little sad to be leaving them. Some hikers like to complain about the permit/shelter system but I think it is a small price to pay for such beautifully tended trails and views.

I was walking the road to Fontana Dam and Nancy from the Hike Inn (also my shuttle) stopped by to see if I wanted to be picked up there. I wanted to walk across the dam though, so she kindly waited for me on the other side. I did the walk, got some dam videos, and was almost to the other side when an uneven part of the sidewalk got me. I ate concrete, or rather my knee and palms did. It was embarrassing. I just kind of wallowed on the sidewalk for awhile like a landed fish. I limped up to the waiting Nancy and asked for some napkins to staunch the blood flow on my knee. Here I show up to her establishment twice with busted knees. She must think I’m a complete klutz.

Anyway I got back to the Hike Inn, showered, laundered, and then went to town on some Mexican food. Im going to take a zero to recover my dignity.

Today I am grateful for Neosporin and Aquaphor.

Day 37 – 0 miles

I woke to find that my hands and knee hurt even more. I’m fairly certain my left wrist is sprained. It’ll take longer than a day for this all to get hike worthy, so I’m calling it. My trip is done. I guess I should change the name to the Almost Great 8? The Okay-ish 8? The Not Quite An 8?

Of all the things in the mountains; the roots, rocks, bears, mosquitos, rain, blasting winds, steep inclines, spiders, turkeys, downed trees, deep water crossings, mud pits, dehydration, heat exhaustion, and frigid temperatures; it is an unassuming piece of concrete sidewalk that took me out.

I’m not all that upset that I’m won’t be completing the whole thing. My ego wants me to push through it all and finish at Neels Gap, but I know I’ve gotten what I wanted out of this trip. It funny, I started this trip hoping to gain some clarity on some big questions and feel like I just gained more questions. I do feel better though. It’s what happens when you force endorphin production through long bouts of physical movement. Maybe I’ve got one thing figured out, which is enough for now.

WARNING: Bloody content below.

The Great 8: Days 19 – 28

Day 19 – 13.7 miles

My shuttle to the trail got me there pretty early and of course it was raining. Heavily. Lucky for me, I overpacked on rain gear. So I slapped on some rain gaiters, a rain kilt, and of course a rain jacket. The piece de resistance though is my umbrella that I can clip to the shoulder of my pack. Overkill? Maybe, but I stayed dry for the most part, in a downpour too.

The elevation climb was actually gentle, and there were switchbacks, which was very surprising! So getting back up in the mountains wasn’t the usual BMT slog fest. It was a pleasant walk in the rain. The rain darkened the tree trunks and gives the leaf color a pop. It seemed extra green today.

I thought my knee was better after the rest. I could walk around in town without any pain. I failed to take into account my pack and the uneven slick terrain. I’ve been going slow in the hopes that will help, but I’m not sure? It feels the worst going up and down the steep slopes, which is most of the BMT.

I stopped relatively early. An hour before sunset. I didn’t make it to the original campsite I’d planned on Bob Bald. (I wanted to camp there because of the funny name.) As soon as I set up my tent and hung my food it started pouring rain. Im staying mostly dry. This Dyneema tent I’ve got is a little cocoon.

Today I am grateful for that gentle elevation climb.

Day 20 – 4.7 miles

The day started out drippy wet, where the wind knocks the moisture off the leaves making it seem like it is raining. I packed up and headed out fairly early. The mist curled through the trees obscuring the path ahead.

And what a path. For some reason, right after Cold Spring Gap the trail wants to act like its the Whites in New Hampshire (think crazy hard and rock climbing). Combine this with an absolute downpour, I was climbing up either a waterfall or a bog, depending on the steepness at the moment. After slipping and sliding over wet rocks and tricky roots, my knee called it quits. Or rather I did, because it was hurting so bad.

I asked myself: Self, why are you forcing this? I didn’t have a real good answer other than pure stubbornness. So I thought my knee was better but it wasn’t (not for the BMT anyway). No sense in further damaging it because “I have to complete it”.

I managed to get one bar of weak signal and called The Hike Inn who said they’d be able to pick me up! It meant backtracking a little, but that’s fine. Going down that hellacious mile to where I camped the night before only reinforced that this was a good idea. My knee started to have a sharp pain with every crunch down. Luckily the forest service road back to the Cherohala Skyway was mostly mild.

I got picked up and wrapped in towels. Tom even brought a bag of ice for my knee. After getting showered and laundered, the owner Nancy took me and another hiker into town where we ate Mexican and I resupplied. I was operating as if I was going to continue. Worst case scenario I’ve got a big bag of snacks.

Today I am grateful to Tom and Nancy for answering the phone and being able to pick me up. Also that 1 bar of 4G.

Day 21 – 0 miles

I slept and ate and elevated my knee. Nancy stopped by to see if I wanted to go into town. My knee felt great, no pain at all. I went to Walgreens and got a knee brace though. I’m not sure what is going on with this thing.

Today I am grateful for restful sleep.

Day 22 – 10.1 miles

I woke to the pounding of a downpour on the roof. Great. In an awesome turn of events though the rain died down by the time I got dropped off at the trailhead. My knee felt fine, but the 32 pounds (I weighed it at the Hike Inn) on my back didn’t do it any favors. I put a brace on it just in case.

I said bye to Tom and turned my sights toward the Smokies. (If you hike in this area definitely give Nancy and Tom at the Hike Inn your business, they’re good people). FINALLY! Back in the Smokies, one of my favorite National Parks, though Death Valley is still number one in my books. The trail was so mild and forgiving, as they are when you maintain them. There were a few blow downs, but you could tell they were very recent.

I cruised along side the Fontana Lake at a steady clip, making sure not to over exert my knee. First I passed an Antique Road show of old cars (from the 30s I think?) left in the wilderness. Their rusted metal carcasses were no match for the trees and ferns that overtook them.

I spent a pleasant lunch at Lost Cove Campsite where I was even able to take my socks off to air out! The sun peaked out from the clouds and everything started to steam. I crossed Eagle Creek on an old metal bridge.

In the afternoon when I was hanging out at Possum Hollow for a snack break I heard some thunder in the distance and the light got dim. Dark storm clouds were rolling in. Lucky for me the trail turned into a flat old road bed and I scurried as fast as my knee would allow to the Calhoun House. Built in 1928, it is the only remainder of a mill town called Proctor. I made it to the porch of the house just in time. It isn’t locked and you can walk around inside if you want. It smelled moldy and looked creepy so I decided to stay on the outside. I sat and read a book on my phone while the rain splattered on the creek in front of the house. I was dry so it was pleasant.

After 30 minutes or so I packed up and made my way to Campsite 86 known as Proctor Field, just a short walk away really. I’ve set up on a bed of pine needles which actually feel comfortable. The only uncomfortable thing is that I think the squirrels are mad at me for invading their turf. They keep chattering in the tree above.

If I’m careful and can maintain a steady pace I think my knee will hold out. I hope so, because I really want to finish this section.

Today I am grateful that my knee held out.

Day 23 – 12.6 miles

More rain in the morning. A deluge really. I didn’t get started till late but once I did get going it felt great. The air was cool and crisp. Climbing up to Welch Ridge warmed me up quick though. There was cell service up there so I took a “whats going on in the world” break.

There are still plenty of ups and downs but they don’t seem as extreme as the southern part of the BMT.

I saw some southbound hikers and what appeared to be two hunters with dogs. There was water everywhere and not just cause it rained. It seemed like every 100 feet there was another creek to go down to and go back up from.

Occasionally I would get a glimpse of the lake through the trees. For a purported Lakeshore Trail it doesn’t seem to actually go down to the lake. That’s fine by me though, because that is where the mosquitos live. I like being up high on the ridgeline.

Even though most of the trail was mild today, I just couldn’t make the miles I was aiming for. I get real pessimistic and critical in the afternoon. Today I just decided to stop early and hope that there aren’t any rangers checking permits. (You are supposed to stick to your chosen backcountry campsites on your permit.) I’ve been feeling pretty “meh” lately.

Today I am grateful for the chat with the only other solo female hiker I’ve seen on the trail.

Day 24 – 18.1 miles

I managed to make it through the night without getting rained on. It made waking up early and getting going easier. I made it to the campsite I was supposed to stay at last night to find three ladies still enjoying their morning coffee. The site was pretty, but I’ve gotten used to camping alone and I’m not sure I remember how to be sociable. Not that I ever really was in the first place. I’m glad I stopped where I did.

I noticed a pattern with the trail this morning. Turn left inland and away from the lake, go down to a water source whatever thay may be, cross it, veer right towards the lake and climb up. Rinse and repeat. Sometimes there would be a little straight part, but mostly it did this all morning. I felt like I kept doing the same thing over and over.

Going around one bend I saw a rather large bear who promptly exited stage right. All along the trail I’ve been seeing bear poop, full of berry seeds. I’ve been poking them to see how old they are, they’ve all been dry. Down by one of the many unnamed little creeks I saw a littler bear searching through the brush. It was a lithe little shadow who didn’t respond when I clicked my trekking poles. I swiftly made it up to the other side keeping an eye out for any angry mama bears.

You can always tell when you get close to a major trailhead because the path becomes well worn and wide. About a mile from the Tunnel to Nowhere I spotted day hikers. I tried to not creepily sniff them. So fresh. So clean.

The Tunnel to Nowhere was built in the 60s as part of a roadway that they never finished constructing. Now it is a tourist destination to walk the 1000 yards and turn back. On Guthook (a hiking map app), comments stated that the tunnel was creepy. It may have been when there weren’t hoards of children with glowsticks running and yelling. It made me think that the tunnel could be a cool rave venue…if it was still 2000.

It was a brief roadwalk down to the new trail that I’d be following: Noland Creek. On the way down I saw two snakes and thought oh its that kind of creek huh? The path was a smooth forest road of gravel. It made the miles easier and I actually got to camp where I’d originally planned!

Today I decided to eat more snacks and take more frequent shorter breaks. I noticed that I turn into a cranky baby in the afternoon which just drags down my energy. Sure enough right around 1500 I was getting antsy to be done, so plopped right down on the side of the trail and ate my first Snickers of the whole trip. Maybe it was just psychsomatic (addict, insane!*), but after awhile I felt my mood shift and things weren’t so melodramatic anymore. I’m sure the sugar helped.

Today I am grateful for making mileage in decent time.

*everytime I say that word i have to end it with Prodigy’s extra bit. *shrug*

Day 25 – 14.7 miles

Today was tough, both physically and mentally. I did all the mental hard work before this trip with all the planning, cross planning, and contingency planning. But there are just some things you can’t plan for. Weather. The park closing your campsite choice. How unexpectedly tired you feel. Downed trees.

I’m doing the actual physical work, and it’s surprising. Not to play the getting old card, but I am, everyone does. Now that I’m over 40 things just don’t work the same. I’d like to think of this hike as a rediscovery of what my body can do with all the demands placed on it, especially after years of neglect and stress. I can do 18 miles, but only if I eat enough calories and take many breaks. I can sleep comfortably in the backcountry, but only if I set up in the right spot. I can do the long hard ascents/descents, but only if I control my breathing and manage my pace. Also stretching is important.

The responses are a little slower and my recovery is definitely longer, but I’m doing it. After so long of taking care of others physical needs first it is deeply satisfying to tend to only my own. It is a deliciously selfish act.

All that to say, today was still tough. There were two waist deep creek fords early in chilly morning that were kinda scary and slowed me down. There were downed trees I had to crawl through. Going down Pole Road Creek was rough and had multiple wet feet crossings. And then I lost one in a pair of my favorite socks. They were Darn Toughs with bears on them and you could see their little claws.

In the afternoon it was a long hot dry climb up and up and up. Where I was practically drowning in water earlier, there was not a spare drop to be found. I put on some podcasts to distract me from the pain in my knee and feet. I even stopped and ate a Payday.

The sun has been setting earlier and earlier and I was getting close to walking in the dark. The last three miles seemed to stretch on forever. Finally I crested Newton Bald right as the sun set.

Only to find I had company and a lot of it. There were at least 8 other people jostling for spots. It was crowded for a Sunday night. I wasn’t feeling chatty so I went and got my water (100 yards downhill of course) and set up my tent. After eating some snacks to stave off hunger, I crawled into my tent and lay blissfully flat.

I thought I’d fall asleep quickly but I lay there…not doing that. I had to replay the day and figure out why 14 miles was so much harder than the 18 before. All I could figure was my attitude about it? Also it is easy to stay awake when five other people are up way past hiker midnight yakking loudly by the firepit. As soon as I heard a man complaining about vaccine mandates I put my ear buds in so I wouldn’t emerge from my tent like a banshee full if righteous indignation IF YOU WOULD HAVE JUST GOTTEN THE VACCINE…

Today I am grateful that the last 0.2 miles to camp were flat.

Yay! A bridge!

Day 26 – 14.5 miles

I woke early and tried to be as quiet as possible with my crinkly things. But not too much, seeing as how my site companions stayed up late. The descent to Smokemont was gentle and fast. I felt like I was flying and nothing hurt, all was right with the world.

The trail after Smokemont campground was a well used horse trail that went to Chasteen Creek Cascades. This pretty lunch spot looked a lot like Long Branch Falls on the AT. After lunch the horse trail stopped playing around and got real. Real hard.

I encountered a new menace: freshly fallen leaves over loose rock. When the leaves are all fluffy and not trampled down they hide the treacherous rocks underneath. My feet twisted this way and that, with my arches taking a beating. Onwards and upwards, forever climbing.

I started to get annoyed and contemplated again why these shorter days were harder. Part of it is my attitude, part of it is the trail conditions, but mostly I think it is time. The backcountry permit put me on a schedule where I have to camp in designated spots. I am forced to go a set mileage in a certain amount of time, no matter what. That was stressing me out and I didn’t realize how much. I have to go go go, why are you so slow? you’ll never make it before sunset, stop stopping so much!

Here near the end of this section, I’ve decided I don’t care. I’ll get there when I get there. What a relief. And then I came to a campsite I thought was closed for bear activity like the last two, but it wasn’t! There was even a camper already set up and it was Judy from Lightheart Gear (IYKYK)! I found out she used to be an FNP too. How wild it that?

Now I get to chill and relax before sunset. Have a chat with an awesome lady and not have to climb a 1200 feet ascent in an hour. What a win!

Today I am grateful that the Enloe Creek Campsite was open and that I got to meet Judy.

Day 27 – 10.1 miles

I did not sleep much. My tent was on a slant and I was itchy all over. Eventually I took a Benadryl and zonked out, but it made me groggy in the morning. I definitely didn’t wake up on time. Oh well. At least I got to have one last conversation with Judy before we split ways (she was going south).

The climb up to Hyatt Ridge wasn’t that bad, but I know that I would’ve hated it yesterday. Once up top the air got thin and chilly. There were more pines and their scent kicked up with every step. The decent was rocky down to Beech Gap where I had lunch. After which was another extended climb up to Balsam Mountain.

Since I wasn’t caring about time or mileage I went slow and then slower. The further up I got the more Boreal the forest became and even though it felt neverending, my spirits lifted at the sight of pines dripping with verdant green moss interspersed with the shocking yellows/reds of the Birches. A cool breeze knocked leaves off in showers that lazily drifted through shafts of sunlight dappling through the canopy. Very sweaty and very dirty, I gingerly stepped through this mountain top church feeling a little bit soothed.

I’ve been asked many times why I like thru hiking, or what I get out of it. Its often hard to explain, but after listening to a podcast it became a little clearer (Real Talk Radio with Nicole Antoinette – Episode with Amanda Jameson, if you’re interested).

It is these mountain top moments of peace/clarity/awe/joy/whatever that bring me back to myself. They teach me the true things that can’t be planned or forced or commodified. The trees, sky, moss, birds, wind, and light fill me up with something unnameable, but significant just the same. Each moment is cherished because they are fleeting as the landscape changes. The only way to get up to that mountain though is to walk and put yourself in the way of those moments. Or thats what I think anyway. There are other ways achieve these moments, but I find that the movement is what works for me.

Also you can eat whatever you want and still lose weight. Win-win in my book. Which is also what I am grateful for today.

Day 28 – 16 miles

I woke up chilly which was a first. It took awhile to get the gumption to crawl out of my sleeping bag. Eventually I shouldered my pack and moved through the dew laden trail.

The trail up to and after Laurel Gap Shelter is all Boreal, which means high elevation pines and a chill breeze. I associate this type of forest with Maine and it brought back kinder memories of vacations and finishing the AT. The sun dappled the ground and everything seemed fresh.

The climb up Mt Sterling was tough but not interminable like the rest of the BMT. The higher you go, the trees start of thin out and you see a little more out into the distance. It feels like you are about to get the prize. After rounding a corner of brush you come upon the top Mt Sterling which doesn’t have views, but it does has a fire tower you can climb!

The top of that fire tower is a bit creaky and worrisome, but the views are unparalleled. You finally get to see some mountain range! It was a beautiful day and the wind was cooling. I got some awesome pics, ate some cheese, and rested a bit. Even though there were 6 miles to go downhill I considered this the mental end point. Which is probably for the best because when I got to the end of the actual trail at Baxter Creek, I didn’t see a BMT terminus marker. Or at least they didn’t make it obvious. It just kind of ends.

I took advantage of the bathrooms and then started the 3 mile road walk to the Appalachian Trail. So now I’ve connected that loop! Made my way to Standing Bear and ate some pizza. Soon it will be southbound on the AT!

Today I am grateful for the awesome views on Mt Sterling.

The Great 8: Days 13 – 18

Day 13 – 13.4 miles

I slept so good on that flat dry hotel mattress, but I woke up feeling hung over. Very weird because I did not drink. I’m guessing it was all the pizza and Coke I consumed the night before?

I got to the trail and realized I was also feeling a sort of civilization hang over too. My nervous system has been a wreck for years now, always on constant alert, usually for things I can’t control or even name. When hypervigilance and high anxiety becomes your norm, understandably it is incredibly hard to relax. Impossible really. Physically, you literally can’t slow down and all the bumper sticker philosophy just relax and let go! won’t fix that.

Walking the trail for the past weeks has forced my body to recalibrate. Instead of worrying about the general insanity of the world, my immediate and very real concerns are simple. Are you hungry? Ok eat. Are you thirsty? Yes, drink some water. Is that a bear? No it is just a very loud squirrel. I am appropriately on alert for things that directly affect my immediate situation. I can meet my own needs in a concrete and tangible way. And oh, how relieving is that? My nervous system can take a break, chill out. I drank that water, ate that food, found that campsite, and made those miles. Good job hormones! You did it Epinephrine! Now go get metabolized and let me sleep.

After all this woodsy quietude and lack of consistent access to social media, it is bit discomfiting to go back to it all. Everything is so loud and in a way that is very jarring. I mean, I already knew this. I guess its finally seeing the juxtaposition of a quiet brain vs our loud society. Does this even make any sense?

The rest of the day didn’t shape up any better. The trail continued its neverending quest to somehow go up even when going down. The spiders OWN this part of the trail. Every five feet its another web to the face so that I had silk dangling from my hat. I am one with the spiders. In fact, I am a spider now and spiders are great!*

The weeds were overgrown and I had to climb over or around lots of blow downs (big dead trees in the way). My feet hurt. It may sound like I’m complaining but I’m just reporting the news. This trail is hard work.

And it was all very frustrating. But that’s okay. I let it out. Who was going to care that I cried? Or that I screamed curse words at spiders? Or that when I tripped for the third time I just lay in the pine needles and had a hissy fit? Certainly not the squirrels or those damn spiders. Real emotions let out in real time and truly being in the moment. Thats why I chose this hard work right?

Also I made 100 miles today on the BMT, which makes it about 133 total. It doesn’t feel like that many and it doesn’t feel like I’ve been on the trail almost two weeks. I guess it is hard to see progress when you are in the middle of it.

Today I am grateful for pit toilets.

*Paid for by the Spiders are Awesome Committee.

Day 14 – 14.5 miles

It seemed like there were some long term residents at Lost Creek Campground. They apparently leave a dog in the tent unattended. They also wake up at 0530 in the morning to have loud arguments and then drive their loud vehicle up the mountain.

Since I was up, I had a nice breakfast drink by the creek. After a lovely pit toilet stop I made my way up the gravel road back to the trail, which immediately goes back down to Lost Creek.

The next 3 miles are the best I have seen on the trail so far. A beautiful dramatic creek walk looking at all the ways in which water carved its way through the mountains. The water was crystal clear and blue tinted in some places, like glacier water. The sun made its way into the valley and glittered off the busy water. The trail itself was relatively mild and best of all no spiderwebs! I floated beside this creek in awe and joy and didn’t even feel my sore feet. It was peaceful and I soaked it up.

But eventually good things must come to end and the creek walk did. I was dumped out into some mountain roads and shuffled my way into Reliance. The Hiawassee river flows through it and there was even a thoughtful pedestrian lane on the bridge to cross the river.

I made my way to Reliance Fly and Tackle where I heard there was a good burger to be had. It was like something out of a Hee Haw sketch. As I walk up to a stereotypical backwoods looking gas station there are four good ole boys sitting out front drinking. One even had the Boomhauer accent. Maybe it was more like King of the Hill. As I was obtaining my burger the owner and de facto leader shot at the stop sign with a shotgun. Everyone hooted and hollered and then had to each individually go inspect the sign. Many observations were made and the bullet in question was approved, I guess?

I mentioned that I had to walk back the way I came to get back on the trail (as this stop was a little off trail). It prompted a discussion of how I should get back, in terms of local mountain instructions. Boomhauer said something about a powerhouse and a “swanging bridge”. The others were talking about going up and down the hillside based on water levels of the river. Finally one fella broke it down and said go up that road (pointing to the road in front of the store) and it will meet the trail. Okay?

Sure enough the road went up and then down and the BMT met up with it by the river. And the trail promptly went into the overgrown bush. I stayed on the road.

There came a point when the trail turned away and up from the road so I had to return. The trail snaked its way up to a ridgeline only to immediately sink back to the river. But this wasn’t the fun wide open river. No it was a claustrophobic buggy nightmare. The skeeters were out in full force and hangry. I got my revenge though because I think I ate about 20 of them just breathing.

In order to move 10 feet forward you had to go up 200 feet in elevation and come back down. Its why I hate walking next to water. The geography of water side walking isn’t always a straight line, like a nice sandy beach. Sometimes the only way forward is up the rocky mountain and then down the rocky mountain.

The mosquitos chased me up the river to my campsite. So now I have dozens of bites on top the scratches on my arms and legs. I quickly and poorly set up my tent and threw everything in. Only two of the little bastards managed to make it in and were quickly dispatched. I am now sitting in my tent hoping that as the evening cools they’ll go to sleep and I can fix my tent.

Today I am grateful for the walk along Lost Creek.

Day 15 – 16.6 miles

I think I twinged something in my derby knee running away from the mosquitos. It is a chronic issue, something I’ve learned to baby. I woke to swarm of more mosquitos around my tent and tried to run away from them but my knee wasn’t having it.

I crossed the creek and trudged up through the maples and sassafras to higher elevation. I traded mosquitos for spiderwebs. As I was coming around a bend I scared a turkey who in equal measure scared me. It gobbled off into the brush leaving me to my thoughts.

The past week or so, the trail has really gotten to me. I itch all over, my feet hurt, and the trail itself has been the opposite of rejuvenating. As I thought I about it, I realize its my own fault. I’ve been ascribing to some arbitrary thru hiking “rules” that cause me to harshly judge myself in which I have to do high mileage days. And for what point? There is no trophy at the end of this.

On the other hand I do have a schedule to keep. The backcountry permit for the Smokies is set for specific days. And I have to get there. Maybe I should have given myself more time?

I reviewed the reasons I started this whole thing in the first place and no where does it say “to complete every step of the BMT”. One of the reasons was too push myself, and I have (I haven’t exercised in forever remember?), but not to the point of more burnout. There is also that whole getting my mind right thing.

The trail joined a motorcycle track that was pretty much five or so miles of cruising along a ridgeline. It allowed me my self absorbed ruminations. After Unicoi Gap though, the forever climb and the heat got me super critical of myself. Why can’t I just do this? Why is it always so hard? Why didn’t I go to the beach?

I stood huffing and puffing on that steep incline and realized the only way I was going to get through this was to stop wishing for the situation to be anything other than it was. A thought popped up hard things can be hard and you can still do them. If I could just accept what was in front of me, then I wouldn’t waste energy on thinking how it could be easier.

I also thought what would I say to one of my friends in this very situation? I wouldn’t berate or bully them, but tell them to take it easy and make sure to have some fun. I certainly wouldn’t talk to them the way I talk to myself. Why is it so much harder to be nice to yourself?

So I took a deep breath and a deeper swig of water, then accepted the fact that I would be continually climbing to camp and that I’d get there after sunset. There was nothing else to be done about it, except to do it.

A calm settled over me and I kept moving along. Up ahead I heard some rustling and saw a dark shadow. Thinking it another turkey, I crunched forward. Nope, it was a bear. A juvenile by the looks of it. As soon as it caught sight of me it sprinted off trail and rocketed down the mountain. I looked down and saw a perfect feather (turkey I’m guessing) and laughed at how the universe decides play.

And guess what, I did do it. I got up the forever mountain, I walked through the dark, and I made it to camp. I did the hard thing. I didn’t have to berate myself in the first place.

I decided to reschedule one of my planned stops in Tellico Plains a day early. So I’ll be getting off trail for a couple of days. I know how hard I’ve worked and how far I’ve pushed myself, but I also know I need rest. Especially this knee. It might sound whiney or even naive, but when you haven’t made time for yourself to rest in so long, you kind of forget how. Even your vacations turn into work. I guess that is one positive point to this whole sweaty ordeal.

Today I am grateful for Welsch’s Fruit Snacks.

Day 16 – 2.2 miles

I got to see the sunrise through the trees and I didn’t have to get up early to start walking. I slept in and enjoyed my morning drink. I only had 2.2 miles to go to Sandy Gap where my shuttle would pick me up to go to Tellico Plains.

It was a pretty ridgeline walk with an acutal view! The breeze was light and cool. The ascents and descents were manageable. Of course that was only for 2.2 miles. I’m sure right after the gap it got real again.

I got to the gap, surprisingly, a little early. So I sat and listened to a podcast that dealt with personal and societal pressures. The idea of performing your hardest and when to let go. It was an unplanned recap of my own thinking for the past two days.

So now I sit in A/C once again, full of food, and freshly showered. I’m going to rest my knee and wallow in all the comforts. I’ll reevaluate my planning and then most likely let the mountains take me where they will.

Days 17 & 18 – 0 miles


My knee is feeling better. I’ve ate my weight in sandwiches. I’ve taken many showers. I feel ready to tackle the last part of the BMT.

The Great 8: Days 6 – 12

Day 6 – 0 miles

Had a great sleep at AT’s. Spent the morning sipping coffee, and chit chatting. Eventually AT took to me Lowes where I picked up a contractor bag. The Nyloflume bag I had been using apparently had micro tears because my sleeping bag was wet when she picked me up. A contractor bag may be a little overkill, but at least my sleeping bag will be dry.

AT drove me to Skeenah Creek Campground where I also had sent my first resupply box. I thanked AT for her much appreciated hospitality and waved goodbye. I was alone again.

The campground put me in a trailer room (looked like the kind they use for construction offices), but there was no working A/C so they moved me to a cute little Shasta. Where I am now. Eating left over pizza.

Today I am grateful for coffee with a friend.

Day 7 – 10ish miles

I did not sleep very well in the Shasta. The bed was too short because, well, the whole trailer is short. Also the bedding was dirty and even though I shook out the leafy stuff it feels weird to sleep on dirty things that aren’t your own. The only snippet of the dreams that I remember had bugs in it.

I decided to take an alternate route of my own making because the forecast called for rain and lots of it. Basically I just road walked back to another part of the trail. And of course it rained. As soon as I stopped to put on the rest of my rain gear it calmed down.

I took a break at a Baptist church that had a covered picnic area next to a cemetary. I think I might have triggered the mountain gossip mill with my road walk, because three good ole boys came rolling by in a white pick up giving me the stink eye. But since I was already moving there wasn’t much they could do. I don’t think they get many hikers in these parts.

In fact, except for the two (or maybe one?) Army dudes I haven’t seen anyone on trail. Not even day hikers. I suspect the rain is keeping a lot of people inside. I’ve thought about trying to sit out the worst of the storms too, but then I’d never get anywhere. The thing about the Appalachians is that is rains all the time. If you waited for ideal weather then you are going to be disappointed all the time.

Once I was back in the woods I felt safer, even though the rain and wind were kicking up, knocking the trees about. By the time I made it up Deadennen Mountain the rain stopped and the sun came out! I hooted and jumped about in an awkward jig, I was so happy. It meant that when I got to camp I could dry out my socks!

I went along the ridge line with a little pep in my step, despite the sore spot on my heel. The wind was still brisk, but now there was sun!

Camp was at the top of Tipton Mountain. I had to haul 4 liters of water up a steep slope, but that’s okay because now I’m up in the Sassafras and warm and dry.

Today I am grateful for the sun coming out.

Day 8 – 11.6 miles

The gusting wind in the canopy contrasted nicely with the warm cocoon I had going in my tent overnight. I slept quite nicely despite the slant that my tent was on. It made me keep sliding to the side. I woke pretty early but I have a hard time getting moving. I always do. Even at home. The siren call of a comfy bed is too alluring.

The trail on the other side of the mountain was overgrown with asters, goldenrod, and brambles. The spiderwebs that were crafted with precision the night before smacked me in the face. I feel like I’m some kind of Godzilla figure in the spider community. Here I come stomping down the trail destroying their mountainside condos. But even deer use this trail so its not the best place to be setting up shop.

I sat on Brawley Mountain underneath a fire tower you couldn’t climb. I noticed a little spider mama protecting her brood while I ate a Cliff bar.

The wind and sun ushered me down the mountain. My step got quicker as the BMT dumped me out onto a road at the Toccoa River. Just down the street was Shallowford Bridge and then the Iron Bridge cafe! Hot food!

But I’m sad to report it was just a Meh burger. I did however meet a cat and that made my day. If there is a cat within sight distance of me I’m going to try to make friends. It made me miss my kitties though. Weasel and Squid were my only real “in person” comfort during the pandemic as I live alone. Their job description now says therapy animal. And I just left them. I know they are safe and well cared for at my parents house, but its the idea that they think I abandoned them. I can’t tell them otherwise, they are cats. Yeah so, that’s weird right? Are yall slowly backing out of this blog?

Mmmhhph. Yeah so, after the food I started up on what was one of the most terrifying road walks I’ve ever been on. Little to no shoulder, blind turns, huge trucks barreling by, and Trump signs/flags all over the place. The pavement hits your feet different and seems to hurt more. After 3 miles they throbbed in pain. Finally the trail veered back into the woods up to Fall Branch Falls, a bit redundant.

At the bottom of the falls I took a little break and found my knife that I thought I had lost earlier today. Usually it is clipped in my left pocket with my chapstick. I noticed it was gone about 10 mins out from Iron Bridge Cafe. I thought I might have dropped in the bathroom so I went back and looked around. It was nowhere to be found, so I wrote it off as a loss. Then after my break I saw it on the ground, neatly sitting in front of my pack. Here’s the thing, I would have heard it fall if it was stuck in my clothing somewhere. Also I hadn’t removed it from my pocket for any reason today. So I’m pretty sure my knife quantum leaped to this new location because it didn’t want to do that road walk. Thats my theory and I’m sticking to it.

There were so many day hikers, and they all smelled so good, like fresh laundry. I did not. One young child went EeeeeEEEeeeewwwwww! after he passed me. His mother hurried him along with an apology, but also judgment in her eyes. I cackled so hard I had to sit down on a conveniently placed bench.

Back up on the BMT proper, it was back to up down up down. Mostly up. If there was an easier way or a switch back offered, the trail designers said “nah, let’s go straight up that side”. But that is the Appalachians for you.

Today I am grateful for cats. All of them, but especially my own.

Day 9 – 9.3 miles

I had a dream about my cat. I was trying to find a carrier and wandering around in a panic. I woke up all sweaty despite the chill in the air. I heard something canine (wolves?) howling. It also sounded like some young ones were trying to join in but not quite making the harmony.

The day started out with some delightful ridge walking. I had some lunch on Scroggins Knob where I was able to air out all the damp things! The trail took a steep dive in elevation down through a pretty meadow and onto private land. This meant more road walking.

The first part wasn’t so bad. All gravel and back country roads. I enjoyed looking at all the cute cabins. However I had to cross US 76 which was very busy and very loud. I made it across but had to sit down for a minute just inside the tree line. The anxiety hit my nervous system like a bullet. My heart was beating fast and I was hyperventilating. It was quite a shock. Eventually my nerves settled down and I was able to move away from the wretched highway.

More road walking, this time paved and with cars flying around corners. However there was a bit of shoulder to walk on. I quickly made my way up the mountain roads to join the BMT back in the woods. There is a shelter on this private land that they let hikers use. It is nestled right underneath a house and next to a road. So no privacy. Ill be doing my business in the dark.

Today I am grateful that I did not get run over by a truck crossing that highway.

Day 10 – 18.1 miles

Finally I meet a fellow NOBO thru hiker. A guy named Rover showed up to the shelter last evening. He seemed nice enough but it also put into context the difference between this trip and 2018’s AT. In one word: socialization. First of all, this trail has none compared to the AT. It is very sparse and hardly anyone does it. Secondly, the easy camaraderie and familiarity of thru hiking is gone for me. All I’m thinking is does this guy not believe science? Is he an anti-vaxxer? Does he still support Trump? Is this guy a QAnon looney?

With all the Trump flags and signs in this part of the country, still hanging, I’m not taking any chances that anyone I meet on trail is “safe”. Not that I freely trusted everyone before, but somehow now it’s different.

I made polite talk (ugh..) with the dude and knew I wouldn’t be seeing him again anyway. He was doing 20+ mile days. Not my scene.

The elevation was killer today. All uphill at >45 degree angle. This trail will definitely get your butt in shape. Everytime I stopped to catch my breath (which was frequently) I noticed spider webs everywhere. Most were perpendicular to the ground but some were parallel like a trampoline. Perfectly round and tightly woven they looked like the underside of a CD floating in the bushes.

I think what is so frustrating about the interminable climbing is that there are definitely no views up top. Just more green tunnel. But sometimes is flattens out for awhile and it feels like you are cruising along high up above everything. Your worries are down there and you can’t help but think about both the literal and metaphorical weight you are carrying.

I got to my original stopping point of Double Hogpen Gap early and just decided to keep going. This put me up over another mountain and down into a valley. There weren’t any viable campsites until South Fork where I threw down my pack and called it an evening. I looked up how far I went and was surprised to see I managed 18 miles! It may not seem like a lot, but for the Appalachians and considering the fact I went couch to trail, it is.

Today I am grateful that my feet didn’t fall off after 18 miles.

Day 11 – 14.2 miles

I get a late start. My feet throbbed all night. I even elevated them on my pack to no avail. Also I was just plain tired. I keep having to gently remind myself that I haven’t hiked like this since 2018, so I can’t expect to make miles easy right away.

I might have picked one the toughest trails in the southeast to jump off the couch onto. Today’s selection of trail included a lot of stream hopping at first and then mostly fighting my way through overgrown weeds and brambles. My legs are looking pretty rough.

Double Springs Gap is the Georgia/Tennessee border and the home of two very disappointing springs. Originally I planned to stay here for the night, but I arrived early and the place seemed kind of creepy. Probably all the twisty Rhododendrons. Stinky too. I must have some past karma with Rhododendrons I need to work out.

Like a real dum dum I decided to make one last climb for the day. It was a slog fest up Big Frog mountain and Tennessee’s big Hi YALL! to NOBO BMT’ers. There was one mile of over 1000 foot elevation change through overgrown brambles and over loose rock. It was brutal. But I did it and actually made it to camp an hour before sunset (a real win for today).

Today I am grateful that tomorrow is town day (re: shower)!

Day 12 – 9.1 miles

I woke with a vigor because today is Town Day! I am most definitely ready for a shower. It has been said that you get used to your own stink, and to a certain extent you do, but I still think being clean is better.

The other side of Big Frog was gentle in its descent. Almost an apology for the other side. The rising sun spiked through yellowing leaves giving the trail a sparkly mood.

I spent most of the walk down from the mountain thinking about the things I’ve carried. Literally, I definitely carry too much food, especially for how not-hungry I am. I also probably carry too many comfort items – do I really need that many baby wipes? Those are things I’m willing to physically carry, because it behooves me to be clean.

Metaphorically, I’m wondering what i can take off my back. What no longer serves me to carry about? What is so heavy it prevents forward movement? What bundles can I finally lay to rest?

The great thing about walking in the woods for so long is that you have all the time to think. So I’ve got a few ideas. Im still ruminating on them.

Today I am grateful for modern plumbing and hot water heaters.

The Great 8: Days 1-5

Day 1 – 7ish miles

My alarm woke me at 0430 from a frantic dream full of whispered plans and adrenaline pumping anxiety. Not a good way to start your day, but nothing to do but tell my subconscious brain to take a chill pill. I had already packed the night before so after giving my kitties extra nubbins, me and my Dad head out into the inky pre-dawn.

My Dad was riding up to Mountain Crossings at Neels Gap with me so as to drive my truck back the 3.5 hours to Columbus. He got to nap for awhile until Atlanta traffic made me stop suddenly and swiftly.

We got to the gap and took a few pictures. My Dad even tagged a blaze so now he’s an AT hiker! I said goodbye and headed up and up and up the Appalachian trail towards Blood Mountain.

Finally! I was back on trail. And of course it was raining. But this, I didn’t mind so much. The canopy of leaves kept most of the water off my head, the breeze was cooling, and the foggy mist made everything seem like a dream. The car wash of shrubbery soaking my legs brought me back to earth though. But even that didn’t last long.

Soon I was up in the stinky Rhododendrons and the musty carpet of fallen foliage. I was happy for this smell, because it meant I wasn’t at work. I wasn’t toiling uselessly to uphold a system that doesn’t seem to care. I wasn’t trying to do my job helping people who in the end didn’t want help. I wasn’t watching people die from something that could have been prevented. I wasn’t being gaslit for my experience and knowledge. I wasn’t yelling at grown ass adults to keep their C-collar on (do you want to be paralyzed?) or traumatizing someone’s granny with straight caths. And definitely wasn’t holding in my pee for 12 hours. Welp that little “verbal vomit” came outta nowhere. Keeping it in.

I stopped about a mile in to inhale a Cliff bar and really take it the fact that I would be walking out in them hills for the next month and half. It still doesn’t feel quite real.

I knew what would really suck would be falling and hurting myself on the first day so I took the Freeman trail to bypass going over Blood Mountain. On a good dry day the trail on this mountain is precarious. I know because I’ve already been up and down it three times. I think it cut off a mile or so of the AT, but I’m not out here to “crush miles” or even walk every step of the AT or BMT. This isn’t that kind of trip.

I also didn’t bring my Canon, so I won’t be getting all the “artistic shots” and videos. I brought my phone and a little gimbal camera. And depending on how I feel afterwards may or may not fashion the footage into a video. This isn’t that kind of trip.

I got to Lance Creek pretty early around 1430. I could’ve pushed farther, but I factored this stop in when planning. I knew I’d be tired from driving and would want to end early. I set up my tent in the rain and laid out for a nap. It was a pretty good nap. I woke up, filtered some water, and ate some food. No one has come by, so I’ve got the place to myself. Another benefit of the rain: keeping the crowd down.

Today I am deeply grateful that I have the opportunity, means, and ability to walk this trail.

Day 2 – 8.2 miles

The day started out misty as the rain plopped down on my tent. I actually slept pretty well which is a first. I don’t usually sleep very well in the backcountry, always on alert for sticks breaking or I just can’t get comfortable.

I packed a wet and dirty tent (never fun) and made my way towards Preachers rock. The rain was mild so I didn’t get too wet and the mist curled through the trees creating a moody dreamy vibe. I spent the first part morning in a contemplative mood. There weren’t any views but there was pit toilet at Woody Gap that was well recieved. There was also cell signal so I conducted my very important business (posting on IG).

I scrambled up Ramrock mountain to get my very first real view on the trail. I sat there munching on cheese and met two day hikers, one of whom used to work at Memorial in Savannah. The very place I’d just left! A weird coincidence.

I continued on to Gooch Mountain Shelter (the Goooooch!) As I got closer the rain grew heavier and I actually started to get drenched. Out of nowhere I started laughing because this is exactly what I needed. I didn’t even stop to put on my jacket. I just moved through the pines and cedar laughing like a loon and letting the rain wash away my sweat.

By the time I actually made it to the shelter I was soaked, but happy. There was a couple from Atlanta that I chatted at. I say “at” because I don’t think I let them get a word in edgewise. Apparently two days by myself turns me chatty. Another couple of people showed up, one of whom is a Starbucks shift supervisor (my old job that I was recently contemplating wasn’t so bad). Another coincidence. I don’t know what those are about, maybe nothing; but this trip does feel a little serendipitous.

I’m made a corner in the shelter, so hopefully my stuff will dry out a little. Ha! Such wishful thinking.

We looked through the log book and some previous tenants of the shelter used it to keep score on a game of Rummy. Someone named Wizard had their own scoring system that seemed to consist of symbols, a robot, and of course a penis. This prompted a discussion on what the dick to currency conversion rate would be. The only person who had the necessary equipment to comment on this did not know. I don’t think he ever had to do the math. I guess we’ll never know.

Today I am deeply grateful for all the pretty spider webs with rain droplets on them.

Day 3 – 7.7 miles

I didn’t sleep very well. I never do in shelters. The floor is so unforgiving, even with an air mattress. The arm I’m laying on will go numb and then I have to flip which wakes me and everyone else up. But it’s the price you pay to stay dry.

The day started out misty but warm. The humidity is ramping up. I spent most the morning mindlessly thinking about life and things. Eventually that’ll stop (I hope) when I get tired of my own thoughts. I already have a separate post planned that goes more in depth on why I’m doing this. Because why not? There isn’t much to do but walk and think and breathe.

There were a lot of ups and downs. Everytime I made it to a gap, I knew there was a slog of a climb coming up. But I’m glad of it, because it gives me a real good work out.

I hustled it to Hawk Mt Shelter because despite the sun trying to peak out the weather report said rain was coming. This puts me 0.7 miles short of my goal for today. I don’t mind it. Gotta use these shelters while I can. The BMT doesn’t really have shelters. I think there are two. So its all tenting all the time.

There was a couple of people there at the shelter. One fella who was an former dentist from New Jersey was hauling one of those old fashioned external framed packs and he also had very strong opinions on Chanterelles.

I fell asleep (kinda) to the thrum of rain on the metal roof and the rifle fire in the distance. The Rangers were out doing night exercises? It reminded me of home.

Today I am deeply grateful for the little patches of sunlight in the afternoon.

Day 4 – 14.4 miles

Whooooweee what a day. It started out the usual. I could see a sunrise though the trees, but the clouds soon obscured all the color. I took off first and encountered a cranky hunter (I think?) a little up the trail. The reason I think he was a hunter is that he carried a hand gun and was wearing camo. He also didn’t follow the unwritten code of the trail to nod/say hello/grunt at passersby. Just dead eyed stared at me. Very creepy.

I beat tracks to Long Creek Falls where the noseeums ate me alive. But I was going to eat my Cliff bar by a pretty waterfall! After that it was a steady climb up to the Stover Creek Shelter. Incidently this is where I first received my trail name Compass back in 2018. All I did was help a dude back to the trail. My trail name story isn’t very interesting.

Following that stop it was more climbing and passing a bunch of day hikers. I tried to move to the side so they wouldn’t smell me. But I could certainly smell them! So fresh and like clean laundry! I’d forgotten how bad you can smell.

As I climbed Springer Mountain the wind and rain came rolling in so I skipped saying hi to the AT monument at the top. There really isn’t a great view on a good day let alone when it’s raining. The start of the BMT is 0.3 before Springer’s summit and it winds back down the other side of the mountain. It’s kind of unassuming a little sign, here’s the start. The BMT looks pretty much exactly like the AT just slightly more rugged. It crosses the AT a couple of times and even merges with it for awhile before splitting west.

There was a melodramatic view at Owen’s Overlook. I sat there for awhile letting the wind and mist buffer my face while I ate some cheese. The spot I had planned to camp didn’t look very appealing so I continued on. And on. And on. I just kept walking. The rain occasionally gusted through and the wind kept knocking more water on me. Finally i made it back to Three Forks where the mosquitos were awake and in business. I threw up a damp tent, dragged my dirty pack in along with a bunch of forest detritus, and snickered at the mosquitos flailing against the mesh.

Even though I managed 14.4 miles I didn’t feel all that hungry. Munching on M&Ms I rolled out my feet which were very unhappy. Changed into my jam-jams and now I’m writing this blog post.

Its funny, it still doesn’t feel real to me that I’m out here. Its like my brain is in limbo and waiting to see if this experience is going to last. My body remembers and is handling the changes oddly well, but my mind seems to have some trouble letting go.

I noticed that checking my social media is a bit distracting and made me feel icky. I was sitting on top of a mountain, originally checking my texts, and somehow ended up scrolling for about 10 minutes with no memory of what I looked at. It was like a I was hypnotized and felt like a betrayal to the trail experience. I wonder if I’ve gotten so used to social media approval that its absence makes real life seem unreal? Either way, it would seem this forced break with the internet is going to have some benefits.

Today I am deeply grateful for the emotional view at Owen’s Overlook.

Day 5 – 10ish miles

I slept well in the mosquito palace, despite having some intense dreams. Of course it started raining heavily as soon as I set off, drenching my clothes in minutes despite all the rain gear.

I waded past Long Creek Falls again and finally set off on the BMT as it heads west away from the AT. The rain was pulling a Forrest Gump. It came from above, sideways, and even below. The trail transformed into a slick clay slipn’slide and at some points (always uphill) was an acutal creek. It was really hard to be mindful and grateful when you are cold and wet. Also when everything you’ve got has been wet for days.

At some point, in a river of mud, I started internally yelling at myself for not being strong enough. I should be bad ass boss babe-ing this, no whiney complaints! You’ll dry off at some point, stop being such a pussy! I came upon an unnamed Bald (literally just listed as Bald on the waypoint). The driving rain eased up and the wind calmed. Another, kinder thought drifted through my mind, why can’t you ask for help?

I stood at that grassy bald underneath a slate gray sky and realized the rain was offering help, I just had to ask for it. Could I bluster my way through and tough it out Amazon style? Probably. Did I want to? Nope. And thats fine too. Luckily there was signal up there and I was able to get in touch with a derby friend who lived near(ish)by. AT was going to pick me up at the Toccoa River and let me stay with her overnight! I just had to get there.

The wind picked back up, but thankfully the precipitation was merely a drizzle. As I was descending one of the many PUDS I heard some odd stomping behind me. Thinking it was another hiker with a serious pace, I turned around to let them by, only to be scared shitless by a bedraggled Army dude in full gear and rifle come right up on me. He said Excuse me ma’am and ran down the hill. I was left wondering what that was all about…and ma’am?

On the other side of another mountain I saw either the same Army dude or another sad one coming towards me this time. I was hoping I wasn’t walking through some military training exercises…but why use a public hiking trail?

The wind burst through the trees on Wildcat Ridge and even knocked a heavy limb down right next to me. I took this as sign that getting off trail was the right decision. I hurried along the sodden trail and finally reached the swinging bridge at Toccoa River, which was frankly kind of terrifying. After that I met with AT, who drove me to her apartment. I ate some delicious pizza and took a glorious shower! We sat on her soft carpets and talked about life and STUFF and looked at all the pretty lights that she has (disco ball and galaxy light=win).

And now I get to sleep on a soft warm DRY bed. It was truly serendipitous that I found signal when I did and she answered my text so quickly. The universe gave me break.

Today I am truly and deeply grateful to have friends who are there when I need help.

The Benton Mackaye/ Appalachian Trail Figure Eight (The Great 8)



Well here I am again, about to set off on a walking adventure and writing about it. I was supposed to thru hike the Pacific Crest trail in 2020, and I’m sure you know how that turned out. I was going to attempt it again this past year, because surely the pandemic will not last that long? Right? Oh how naive I was.

I decided to cobble together a one and a half month long hike in the Appalachians and then the Delta wave happened. Oh by the way, if you didn’t already know, I’m a travel ICU nurse. So of course I start feeling guilty and selfish for setting out into the woods while yet another surge of Covid is crashing the healthcare infrastructure.

But here’s the thing, I’m not much good at the job right now anyway. I. AM. TIRED. And who isn’t really? I believe all healthcare workers deserve a break (not more protesting and violence) and I’m just one of the lucky few who has the opportunity to do so. Besides my therapist told me she was writing me a prescription for a 1.5 month long hike, so I guess I have to go now.

Yes, I have a therapist now. My mental health has not been great. I already dealt with chronic depression and generalized anxiety. *Covid Pandemic enters the chat* I haven’t been officially diagnosed but I’m fairly certain that I meet the markers for PTSD, which makes it complex because it stems from my job. Why am I writing all this? Because it is a big reason for wanting to walk long distances. It’s a form of therapy. Also, it is part of my story and let’s normalize talking about mental health, yeah?

So now you know that.

My trip will start at Neels Gap on the Appalachian Trail (AT) and I’ll walk south to Springer Mountain where the Southern Terminus of the Benton Mackaye Trail (BMT) starts. I’ll move north roughly parallel to the AT and then cross it just before the Smokies. The BMT ends at the northern border of the Smokies where I will hop (figuratively) over to the AT and make my way south back to Neels Gap. As you can see on the map below, the BMT (red/yellow line) and the AT (dark blue dots) form a wonky looking figure eight. Thus, it shall henceforth be known as the BMT/AT F8! By only me probably.

It is about 513 miles altogether and will take a month and a half. I hope to be done by the end of October. Yes I am going by myself, and no I’m not too worried about it. I’ve got Garmin InReach with a handy SOS button if needed. I’m bringing a mask and sanitizer of course. I’ve planned out all my food and resupply stops, so there is nothing left but to go and do it.

Here is a handy map to gaze upon.

Here is my Gear list if you are interested in that sort of thing:

I’ll be posting here as signal allows, probably a week at a time.

I will also be posting on my Instagram account: