by

Experiencing Virginia’s History on the Trail

If you recall from our last post, Chief and I were headed to a hostel after six straight days hiking the Appalachian Trail in the rain and deep woods.  It was Day 53 of our A.T. adventure and we were both in desperate need of a shower and a laundry facility.  Only a half mile off the trail, the Woods Hole Hostel in southwest Virginia boasts an original, beautifully preserved, two-story log cabin built in 1880.  We marveled at the large hand-hewn timbers and the way they were perfectly stacked in the living area to the open pitch of the roof.  The section above the large wooden dining table sported a loft where hikers could sleep.  The original cabin shared some more modern additions, including a large kitchen, office area, bathrooms and several private bedrooms.  The hostel constructed a separate bunkhouse for hikers in 1986 and this structure’s character resembles the original log cabin.  Woods Hole has been serving A.T. hikers for thirty years and incorporates massage therapy and food from organic gardening techniques in its services. The owners, Neville and Michael, raise their own livestock, vegetables and herbs for the business.  After a thoroughly enjoyable shower, Chief and I enjoyed a warm loaf of Neville’s delicious homemade bread and marbled goat cheese.  We had eagerly anticipated the hostel’s famous smoothie made with their homemade strawberry ice cream and served to the brim in a quart Mason jar.  Chief and I each had one and polished off every delectable drop.  For dinner, Neville and Michael prepared a wonderful pork and vegetable dinner with the help of nearly twenty hikers.  We all ate dinner in the original log cabin area in a family style setting.   Before the meal, all the visitors held hands in a large circle and shared our name and something for which we were thankful.  Just looking around the 19th century cabin, I wondered how many dinners had been shared in its history.  I do know that it continues to provide a homey and inviting atmosphere to weary A.T. hikers.

We had wanted to stay a second night at Woods Hole Hostel but they were already booked up so we hiked into Pearisburg and called the MacArthur Inn in Narrows, Virginia.  The inn was constructed in 1940, next to the New River, and was a popular stay for celebrities and politicians who enjoyed hunting and fishing.  The inn eventually fell into disrepair and closed.  The village was prepared to demolish the inn but a sympathetic resident bought it and has already invested half a million dollars in its renovation.  A friendly stay for hikers, the owner welcomed us by picking us up at the trail and transporting us to the inn.  He sported a large handlebar mustache and a deep southern accent and willingly transported us all around town at no cost.  The owner’s daughter prepared our dinner that night which consisted of a yummy salad, nicely seasoned ribeye steak, crab cake, country green beans, fried potatoes, and a homemade roll.  The meal culminated with a piece or angel food cake topped with fresh strawberries and chocolate truffles – all for a mere price of $10.95 each!

Our little piece of Virginia’s history was enriched with a stop at a one-room schoolhouse that silently stood right next to the Appalachian Trail.  The Lindamood School was originally constructed in 1894.  The wood siding of the schoolhouse has grayed and warped with age.  The front steps and porch have bowed but nevertheless welcomes hikers to the front door.   Inside, wooden desks line both sides of the schoolhouse and look like they are replicas from an earlier period, but in the middle of the the room stood a rusty wood stove, no doubt original to the structure.  There we met another hiker, Walkie Talkie Nightingale, who was reading a trail journal with comments left by hikers that had previously visited the schoolhouse.   Walkie Talkie is a recent college graduate from McLean, Virginia, and is the youngest child of parents who are both teachers.  A local church uses the schoolhouse to provide plenty of trail magic to hungry hikers.  Chief was quick to find an icy cold cola in a large cooler, as well as a nice selection of Little Debbie snacks and chips.  We three sat at the little wooden desks of the one-room schoolhouse, enjoying a cold drink and snack, and discussing education.  Although this quaint schoolhouse no longer is used to educate children it provides a much needed respite to fatigued hikers on the A.T.

Lastly, on Day 57 Chief and I hiked by the Keefer Oak.  This white oak tree is believed to be over 300 years old and holds the title of the oldest tree on the Appalachian Trail.  Its massive trunk was so large that Chief and I both couldn’t reach around its circumference.  The limbs were larger than most trunks of a tree, reached higher than we could see and were too numerous to count.  You couldn’t help but wonder about the many hikers, pioneers, soldiers, old men and dreaming children that have passed by or took shade from the Keefer Oak over the past three centuries.  Oh what stories that majestic tree could tell… we could only imagine and appreciate another interesting piece of Virginia’s past.

Historically Speaking, Chief and Toad

by

S(t)inking To A New Low

Hiking on the Appalachian Trail has certainly taught us humility.  Learning to live with only what we carry on our backs is a lesson in simplicity.  In addition, we have realized a need to be more grateful for the comforts in life especially when quality of life is severely compromised.

This week, Chief and I hiked through a portion of southwestern Virginia, a beautiful ecological area, but with no place for a hiker to shower or clean up.  We were somewhat prepared for this six-day stretch in the woods until we could arrive at a hostel nearly 100 miles away. We weren’t prepared, however, for six straight days of rain.  Add in the sweat of 10-hour hiking days to everything that is already wet and mildewed and it equals an odorous disaster of epic proportions.

Keep in mind that over the past seven weeks I have been meticulous about spraying our gear with Febreeze at every stop.  Regardless, our soaked shoes were the first things that began to smell on Day 49 so they stayed outside the tent at night.  We brought in the inserts with hopes they would somewhat dry overnight.  The damp, sweaty backpacks started to reek about Day 50.  Imagine wearing something all day that carries a gut-wrenching  odor AND holds all of your food and water.   The packs have to go in the tent at night so the stench was inescapable.  We experienced some really cold temps so the big question was whether to zip the tent up tightly or keep air flowing to mitigate the horrendous smell.  Great options – either we freeze to death or suffocate on the inside of a garbage bag.

I will tell you that over the years Chief has lost a bit of his sense of smell, which turned out to be a blessing this week.  I, on the other hand, have very effective olfactory senses that have contributed to more nausea this week than I care to share.

The crap really hit the fan on Day 52.  We were then five days into the rain. Chief and I each have three pair of socks and I calculated that I would have to wear each pair of socks two days before putting on a clean dry pair. I was looking that wet morning for my last pair of dry socks but to no avail. I asked Chief if he took my socks because he has the same type only in a larger size.  He emphatically denied having my socks and said I must have forgotten them at the last stop.  I was forced to put on the same wet cold dirty stinky foul socks for two more days.  Each day the stench grew stronger.  Every morning I put those socks on and every evening that I took them off my gag reflex kicked in.  On Day 53 Chief was packing up HIS dirty clothes and I counted an extra pair of socks – MY socks that he had worn!  He said it was a “simple error” on his part but by my calculation he had four pair of clean dry socks in six days.  In his defense, Chief is battling some major blisters on both feet and a deep sore on his left heel, all of which has been exacerbated with the wet weather conditions.

To make matters worse, Chief found a tick crawling up his thigh while we were in the tent.  Ticks are known to crawl to dark body areas before burrowing in.  This was enough to freak out anyone and Chief “felt stuff crawling on him” the rest of the night.  It makes no difference whether it was real or perceived.   I had fallen into a deep sleep only to be awakened by Chief frantically telling me there was something crawling up his groin.  He gave me the head lamp and told me to take a look.  Now this isn’t a great way to wake up anyone.  I saw no bugs but the experience made my stomach lurch.

Our baby wipe baths became less and less effective so that by the end of the week even Chief said he got a whiff of us.  “We stink,” he said grimacing.   “Are you JUST noticing this?!” I asked, already resigned to the fact that we had stunk to a new low.

To Better Times,  Chief and Toad

by

A Message In a Baggie

Messages while on the Appalachian Trail sometimes appear few and far between. Then again, sometimes messages are more frequent than we realize if we know how to spot them.

Cellular service has been unattainable in southwest Virginia but over the past few days we have received messages in less modern ways.  On Day 43, Chief and I took a zero day and stayed at the Lazy Fox Inn in Damascus Virginia. Damascus is a quiet little town, population less than 1,000, except during Trail Days .  This festival brings in 20,000 hikers, artisans, and visitors the third weekend each May.  We arrived the weekend after Trail Days and stayed at the B&B owned and operated by 90-year old Miss Ginny.  Our room looked like something at your grandmother’s house with lots of knick-knacks and a claw foot bathtub complete with Epsom salts. Miss Ginny told us where she hides the key to the house in case she had to go out. The next morning she made a huge breakfast with some amazing cheesy grits and homemade biscuits. Miss Ginny’s message to us was that we would complete the entire trail and she wanted us to send to her a note when we finished. She said that she would remember us and we have no doubt that is true.

We hiked to a campsite later that evening and in the middle of the night had an unwelcome message from a bear!  He seemed to be telling the campers that we were invading his domain by snorting and growling and pounding on the ground. No one dared exit their tent but there was much talk about it the next morning.  Thankfully we were all protected!

One message wasn’t even for us rather we had the pleasure of being the messenger.  As we were hiking the trail, another hiker was approaching from the opposite direction. He stopped to chat and told us he was from Mississippi and that his wife was picking him up at the next crossroad. He asked where we were from and when we said Ohio he told us that he had been born in Newark. The man said he knew the location of Marion,  Bucyrus and Shelby. That sparked a further comment from Chief that he had been on the police force there.  The man said that he had served in the Navy about forty years ago with someone from Shelby, Bruce F.  Just so happens that we have been friends with Bruce and his wife, Cindy, for  many years. Our girls grew up together and we went to the same church for years. The hiker told us his name and asked if we would let Bruce know he would like to speak with him.  As soon as we had cell service, Chief contacted Bruce and delivered the message. Bruce knew who the hiker was as soon as we mentioned Mississippi and said he had been thinking the past couple years about making a contact.

Day 45 was especially difficult as we hiked the rocky paths to and from Mt. Rogers.  The day was sunny which made traversing the trail hotter than we’ve normally experienced on a mountain.  We also hiked through the Grayson Highlands State Park and encountered the wild ponies on more than one occasion.  At one location four ponies were grazing in the woods, including one all brown foal that wasn’t very old.  As we walked along the trail, Chief spotted a yellow piece of paper in a baggie that had been strategically placed next to an A.T. marker.  On the note was written, “Chief and Toad”.  Now hikers will sometimes leave messages for other hikers but we couldn’t imagine who or why a note would be left for us.  It turned out this message was from Tara, an accountant friend we know from Columbus, Ohio that has been following our blog.  Tara’s note said that she had travelled to the Grayson Highlands.  She must have been out hiking the area and knew that we weren’t far behind.  Tara’s message came as a great surprise and was a source of encouragement to us on a day we were challenged both emotionally and physically!

We are truly grateful for the simple ways the Lord has provided for our needs.  Those messages of His love are worth sharing.  On Day 46 we were hiking a 19-miler and passed a trail volunteer who gave to us a banana.  Fresh fruit is such a luxury on the trail and we enjoyed it immensely!  We also met a ridge runner who gave us a message about a motel we had planned to use in two days.  He said we would be better served by catching a shuttle bus into Marion, Virginia the next day.  We heeded that message and woke early on Day 47 to hike the ten miles to the pick-up point.  On our way, we met a day-hiker named Sly who blessed us with a Snickers candy bar and said she would give us a ride to town if we didn’t make the shuttle.  That nourishment was needed and propelled us faster toward the pick-up point.  We couldn’t have been one minute later after hiking those ten miles because the bus arrived just as we were getting to the pick-up point!  God sent a message that he understands all of our needs.  There is no limit to God’s communication with us if we will only listen with our heart.

Until our next message, Chief and Toad

 

 

 

by

When the Trail Throws a Curve

It’s been nice to hear from several Appalachian Trail hikers, soon-to-be hikers, and HISOs (hiker in spirit only).  We hope you all enjoy our stories and will share your hiking experiences as well.  Our internet access in eastern Tennessee has been sporadic the past couple weeks and several followers have wondered about a new post.  Thanks for your patience — we never want to disappoint you!

In this post, we wanted to share with you some stories of when the trail has thrown us a curve.  This is an unexpected event, with no prior warning, that may be positive, negative, or just plain weird.

In a prior post, we shared about the other Chief we had met on the trail.  We referred to him as Chief 2 Feathers for clarification purposes and he is section hiking the A.T. over a period of years.  Chief 2F had spent a few days with some friends so we lost track of him for a while.  On Day 29, Chief 2F found us in Hot Springs, N.C.  This was a very nice surprise because we like Chief 2F.  We scheduled to meet for dinner at a local Mexican restaurant where Chief 2F told us that he was leaving the trail for this year.  An unexpected family situation and a tough couple days of hiking had forced him to call it quits.  Chief 2F is one hiker with whom we genuinely bonded on the A.T. and we were sad that he wasn’t continuing.  Over dinner, we reminisced about our days of hiking together and planned to meet again in the future off the trail.  When we parted Chief 2F wouldn’t say goodbye, rather he said, “See you…”.  Funny how a friendship can begin on the A.T.

On Day 30, we slackpacked out of Hot Springs and had prepared ourselves for a long day’s hike.  Let’s pause for…

Hiker Lingo:  Slackpacking — paying someone to deliver your backpack to your next location, leaving the hiker to navigate the trail with only a light-weight daypack.

Some hiking purists don’t believe in slackpacking, but even elite hikers take advantage of slackpacking to conserve energy.  Hiking without an extra 25-35 lbs. on your back allows your legs to move faster and keeps pressure off the feet!  We felt free and easy on the trail until Chief suddenly saw a huge snake actually on the walking path. The snake wouldn’t move so we had to pass it in the brush without creating a disturbance.  From that moment we were reminded how important it is to watch for snakes as many a hiker has stepped or nearly stepped on a rattlesnake.

Days 31 and 32 were spent climbing some of the toughest but most beautiful mountains in Tennessee, Big Butt and Big Bald (ironically this could describe me and Chief — LOL)… Anyhow Big Butt was some of the rockiest terrain we have navigated.  Big Bald is covered with grasses instead of trees and offered a breathtaking 360 degree view of the surrounding majestic mountains — an unexpected but wonderful surprise.

Not so wonderful, Chief has really been struggling with a sore left shoulder.  Not one to complain, he probably needs to see a chiropractor or doctor and needs to reduce weight in his pack.  My problem is a nasty case of poison ivy.  It’s not the little bubble poison ivy like I’ve experienced in Ohio, this is huge welts with monster bubbles.  I picked up some herbal soap at one of the outfitters and it is helping to relieve the itch and remove toxins.  I fear that for the entire hike I will be relegated to wearing long pants and long-sleeved shirts as a proactive measure.

We do hate missing church on the trail, but on Sunday, Day 35 another hiker, Brother Timothy, passed us hiking.  We have seen Brother Timothy on a few occasions.  He is a young man from Chicago who says he is hiking the A.T. to share God’s love and speak His truth to whomever will listen.  On this particular day, Brother Timothy was wearing only a T-shirt and his underwear in addition to his hiking shoes.   As he passed, I could hear the King James Version Bible on tape coming from his pack.  “Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.  Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.”  Blessed are those that hike only in their underwear, for they shall not chafe.  (Disclaimer — that last sentence isn’t in scripture, just a thought to a weird curve we’ve experienced on the trail…) It reminded us of The Gnome — another hiker with a long white beard who wears brightly-colored purple tights.

On Day 36 we were looking forward to a hike up Roan Mountain in Tennessee.  The A.T. thru-hiker book promised a majestic view atop one of the tallest mountains.  As we began the arduous climb a soft misty rain came down, which was welcome on this warm day.  It quickly turned dark and the mist became a downpour that lasted for more than four hours.  By the time we reached the mountain’s summit, lightening was cracking around us and water was flowing down the trail in currents like the French Broad River.  We felt like salmon trying to swim upstream, navigating rocks and tree roots.  Unfortunately Roan Mountain also boasts some of the coldest temperatures on the Appalachian Trail.  It became apparent that tenting was out of the question and we needed to make it to a shelter before dark to escape the wet cold storm.  The shelter was another mile hike and by the time we arrived there were seven other hikers claiming space in the shelter.   The only place left to roll out a sleeping bag was on the floor.  With no private area, I asked the men in the loft if I could have ten minutes of privacy and quickly changed into dry clothes there.   Both Chief and I promptly got into our sleeping bags and shivered for three hours before we started to warm.  About 11 p.m. I realized that I hadn’t gone to the bathroom.  I woke Chief thinking he would go with me into the woods and watch for bear and snakes in the dark.    He sleepily said, “Don’t go far,” and hunkered back down into his sleeping sack.  So I put on my headlamp and prayed for a safe solo journey to the “ladies room”.  This was only our second night in a shelter and for good reason.  The snoring is awful (and I’m not even talking about Chief).  When I was able to finally fall asleep, I suddenly awoke at 4 a.m. to a mouse crawling on top of my head!!!  It is a moment like that when I think about the perfectly good house with indoor plumbing we have in Ohio and no vermin squeaking and playing pat-a-cake on my head during the night.

Morning couldn’t come soon enough and we hiked down Roan Mountain sixteen  miles and headed straight to the nearest hostel, Mountain Harbor B&B.  We planned to pitch the tent and get a shower for $10.  The owner said they also had a nice room with a king-sized bed and a bath for $125.  I must have been an emotional mess because Chief took one look at me and said, “We’ll take the room.”  The beautiful room in the old farmhouse held a wrought iron bed with a lovely handmade quilt.  The bathroom was immaculate, smelled of jasmine and had plenty of fluffy towels, hot water and soap.  I shampooed four times to make sure there were no remnants of mice.  The bed was amazingly comfortable and Chief and I agreed it was the best night’s sleep we had in the past 37 days.  We awoke in the morning to the fragrance of fresh coffee and Miss Mary’s homemade breakfast of egg croissants, sausage gravy and biscuits, fried potatoes, fresh fruit, French toast with honey pecan topping, and raspberry sweet rolls.  This place was truly an unexpected but magnificent find!

On Day 38 we left the B&B well rested and well fed.  We were told by another hiker, O2, to take a curve that is off the A.T.  The curve led to a magnificent waterfall about 150′ high.  It was a spectacular sight!  We probably would have missed this had we not been open to the curve.

Chief was able to get an appointment with a chiropractor who is also a hiker.  After a spinal adjustment, Chief was feeling better but then fell TWICE on the trail landing both times on that shoulder.  Those incidents, however, didn’t seem to negatively impact his legs.  Over the past week our daily mileage has steadily increased to a high point of hiking 22.7 miles on Day 41.  Today is our 42nd day on the Appalachian Trail and we arrived in Damascus, Virginia– Mile 469.  So three states are completed (Georgia, North Carolina, and Tennessee) and a multitude of curves are yet to experience.

Until next post,  Chief and Toad

 

 

by

For Better or Worse

First, we would like to welcome the new followers of the blog, especially those folks from the bus tour trip to Newfound Gap near Gatlinburg.  It was a pleasure to speak with you about our thru-hike!  We sincerely hope you enjoy the posts about our adventure.

Chief and I will celebrate 35 years of wedded bliss this summer.  He has been telling people that for this milestone anniversary he is providing me with a six-month “vacation” in fourteen different states, “eating out” every day and experiencing nature’s scenery up close and personal.  Of course Chief gets a kick out of this hugely exaggerated anniversary description of our Appalachian Trail hike and gets a sarcastic eye-roll from me.  Several folks have wondered how a couple can spend time together 24/7 without conflicts.  Well you can’t.  We thought we should honestly share some of what the first month of our A.T. hike has been like for our relationship.

If you know Chief then you aren’t surprised to learn that he is a planner.  Everything about this hike is researched, scheduled, calculated, and tabulated.  He keeps track of trail elevations, miles hiked per hour and how much down time is used.  My style is a bit different — more along the line of whatever happens today just roll with it.  That style difference has led to some consternation and a suggestion from me such as, “Can’t you just give it a break and let it go for one day?”  Of course there is no right or wrong way–well, I think my way is better but for purposes of this article we will let it drop right there.

We had planned to shuttle fifteen miles from the A.T. into Gatlinburg, Tennessee on Day 23 to resupply and shower.  When we arrived at our pickup destination at Newfound Gap, I called the shuttle service only to be told they cancelled us to take a better fare.  I was incredibly angry and disappointed, but Chief took the lead to find a solution.  Another hiker, Cricket, was dropped off by his Cousin Bill and Aunt Rose from Durham, North Carolina.  Chief asked Bill if he would drive us into Gatlinburg and he agreed to shuttle us and our friend Sunshine, but Bill wouldn’t take any money for doing so.

The next day we had arranged a shuttle back to the trail with a man named Herbert.  Herbert is a colorful local character with a thick Tennessee accent who made us “gis” how old he was.  I “gissed” 60 and Chief added five years, but we both missed Herbert’s actual age of 71.  Herbert could sure tell tales about people he’s driven and he talked the entire drive back to the trail.  We heard that folks in those parts “just want 10-12 acres they can grow some ‘bacca and butcher couple hogs”.  Herbert told us about his wife, Georgia, who “is kin to Dolly Parton — they was third cousins,” he shared.  He and Georgia had been married nearly 50 years, but she had passed away a year ago.  Herbert spoke of her as though she was waiting at home with his lunch lovingly prepared.  It was evident how much he missed her, and it reminded me to be appreciative of the time we have together.  So…

On Day 25, I stabbed Chief with my pocketknife.  You should know that this incident was neither premeditated nor serious.  Not having any other uses for my brand new Leatherman pocket knife, I was using it to cut an apple in half for lunch.  At the same time I handed half the apple toward Chief, he was reaching a hand toward me.  He stuck his finger right into the point of my pocketknife.  Instinctively, Chief yelped, but the wound didn’t even bleed until he forcefully squeezed one tiny drop of blood from the microscopic hole.  Technically this accident could be construed as being his fault but we let it drop right there.

Days 26 and 27 were exhausting as Chief led us to hike for 17.6 miles and 15 miles respectively.  He believes we need to increase our daily miles by pushing our strength and endurance.  I have a slightly different perspective on that type of reasoning and words were exchanged in exuberance.  Nothing positive came from that exchange so we let it drop right there.  Truth is, Chief may be right.  Nevertheless we are hiking on dry trails that are less rocky than Georgia and seeing more green as trees leaf out and the mountain woods spring to vibrant life.

Mothers’ Day is Day 28 so Chief is giving us a day off tomorrow.  We had to hike 12 miles to get to Hot Springs North Carolina, but we enjoyed a hot mineral spa bath and fresh peach apricot smoothie.  Did I mention my husband is amazing?!  I better let any remaining conflict drop right here.

That’s the way marriage works.  Sometimes you just agree to disagree and let things drop.  The details and opinions are not as important as the relationship.  We know there will be disagreements on this journey, just like in everyday life and we make it work for better or worse.  We have hiked 275 miles so far with 1,905 more to Maine.  That’s a lot of togetherness, but Chief knows that I love him, and now he also knows that I have a very sharp pocketknife.

In Unison, Chief and Toad

 

by

How Much Is That Doggie in The Window

Having now been on the Appalachian Trail for three weeks, we have witnessed more than a few spectacles — people and places that attract attention or that are unusual to us.  Sometimes we just stare in wonder or disbelief (depending on the situation)…

On Day 19 we hiked to Fontana Dam in North Carolina.  This large, beautiful lake attracts visitors and sportsmen alike and we were amazed at the clear deep blue water.  The sunlight glistening off this large body of water was visually refreshing even though we were incredibly tired and dirty.  We were blessed to get a room at the Fontana Lodge because they were totally booked due to a Mini Cooper convention that weekend.  Imagine the sight of 700 Mini Cooper cars and their passionate owners who come to drive an 11-mile stretch of North Carolina highway that sports nearly 400 curves.  It ticked off the hikers that all the rooms at the Lodge were booked because the hikers walk more than eleven miles and carry backpacks that are nearly as big as a Mini Cooper (chuckle).  We felt rather guilty that we got a shower and a king-sized bed for the night while other hikers stayed at the “Fontana Hilton”, the sarcastic name for the not-so-nice hiker shelter.  Nevertheless, we laundered clothes and enjoyed an ice cream cone from the General Store in preparation of entering the Great Smoky Mountains National Park the next day.

Day 20 was a gorgeous sunny morning as we began our walk across Fontana Dam and into the Smokies.  We are required to each have a thru-hiker permit that cost $20.  The permit gives us seven days to hike through the Smokies.  We dropped our permits in the lockbox and ascended the first hill. A few minutes later, a ridge runner told us there had been a bear attack the night before.  Evidently two hikers had left their tent for a short time when a bear smelled food and took off with their backpacks–one of which held a new cell phone.  The ridge runner told us to be sure and sleep in the shelter to avoid bears getting close, which we did that night.  Before we tell you about the shelter experience, we met up again with Sunshine, a twenty-something gal from Memphis.  We had met Sunshine our first week hiking but had lost contact with her during the torrential rains.  She is an experienced hiker but is attempting a solo thru-hike of the A.T.  She is looking forward to meeting her husband in a week in Hot Springs N.C. as they haven’t seen each other in three weeks.  This day on the trail we witnessed some hikers who stopped  for lunch but were also smoking a bit more than cigarettes.  We know that some hikers are inclined to the “party-side” of the culture but it is not done discreetly on the trail.  While taking our own break, a hiker came up and asked us about the bear in the tree 50 yards back.  He said we had walked right by it and that it was a spectacle– an estimated 450 lbs!  Later on in the evening, we were hiking with Sunshine and we saw three young deer coming to graze in the clearing in the woods.  We kept hiking and the trail wound around to where the deer were eating.  Two ran away but one just walked on the trail in front of us.  We arrived at the shelter late in the evening and The temperature had already dropped into the 40’s.  Chief talked to a young man that is attempting to hike the entire trail in 60 days.  This young man was a spectacle in his own right, having hiked 180 miles in three days!  The same distance had taken us nearly three weeks.  Most of the sleeping spots in the shelter were taken.  The shelter has two rows of boards so you either sleep on the top or on the bottom row. There is only enough room for each person’s sleeping bag and you sleep right next to a new “friend”.  We were able to finagle two spots together on the bottom row and Sunshine slept on the top row.  I slept next to a girl named Tinkerbell, who didn’t flutter quietly, rather snored like a lumberjack all night long.  On the other side of Chief slept Kristin, a young girl from New Hampshire who started the trail with us in April.  Her phone alarm went off at 4:00 a.m. and nearly everyone in the shelter woke up except Kristin.    After ten minutes, Chief nudged her and she turned it off and slept another four hours.

We couldn’t wait to leave the shelter and hit the trail on Day 21 even though we planned a 15-mile hike.  The cool morning quickly heated up and we stopped early on to take off coats, hats, and gloves.  A hiker we met yesterday, Honeybee, said she got her name with a surreal incident she had in her tent with a bee.  We wonder if the bee was attracted to the vibrant tattoo sleeve on her left arm or her sweet child-like demeanor.   Anyhow, she said she took a video of the bee and all was well.  Honeybee prefers to hike in a short skirt when the weather gets warm.  Needless to say, she always has a young male hiker following her, for the  witty conversation of course.  The other spectacle of this day was a hiker named Sterling, a good ole boy from Georgia, who interacted with the wild turkeys on top of Siler’s Bald.  We never saw the turkeys but we heard them.

So in three weeks of hiking we have covered nearly 200 miles.  Our feet are terribly sore but we are in good spirits and have even lost a few pounds (that is a positive consequence).  Another milestone came on Day 22 when we reached Clingmans Dome, the highest point on the Appalachian Trail at 6,643′.  The observation deck on Clingmans Dome straddles the borders of North Carolina and Tennessee, as does a bit of the trail for the next hundred miles.  We were sitting by the trail enjoying a snack and watching the many visitors walking up to the observation deck.  One man heard Chief say that he wished there was a Coke machine nearby.  The man, whom we now lovingly refer to as the Good Samaritan,  told Chief he would give him a Coke from his car.  Chief walked down to the parking lot, all the while telling the Good Samaritan about our “Hike for John”.  The Good Samaritan gave to Chief six cans of icy cold drinks and said he would donate to the Gurneys.  God bless him!  During that time I watched several tourists pass the sign for the Appalachian Trail and listened to their comments.

Woman to her boyfriend:  “I could hike this trail if it was more level and not so  rocky.”

Man to his wife:  “This trail goes from Georgia to Pennsylvania.”  (Actually it goes to Maine)

Several people came over to talk to Chief and me asking questions about thru-hiking the trail.  “Do you have a gun?” asked one lady.  I said no (I have one but not with us)   “Where do you get food?”  I answered Wal-Mart, just like you (but I wanted to say that I fired my hiking stick from a crossbow, taking down a large buck that I field dressed before taking it back to the shelter to process.) “Have you seen any bears?”  Not yet (but evidently they are around on the trees and we are too blind or ignorant to see them!)  But the biggest revelation came when a man and woman with six kids came up to us and said, “So OLD people CAN hike the trail.”  It was then that we realized we were the biggest spectacle of all.  Until next stop…

Happy Tales,  Chief and Toad

 

by

A Rose By Any Other Name

First, we welcome several new friends from Virginia and thank the many followers of the blog that have sent comments and well wishes our way.  We truly wish we could respond to each of you individually but just know that we eagerly read and GREATLY appreciate your kind words and continued support.

A friend from Ohio, Dale F., asked if we could share some stories about folks we’ve met on the Appalachian Trail and their trail names. We are happy to comply with that request since there are lots of colorful characters you should get to know.

In the last post, we told you about young Jeff whom we just met up with again today. Jeff still doesn’t have a trail name that he likes so we are calling him Doc because he has an extensive first aid kit including a snakebite kit. That kit could have come in handy today as we passed a point on the trail with a handwritten note taped to a log that read, “Rattlesnake 25 ft ahead”. The note was dated yesterday and fortunately we neither saw or heard that slithering threat.

On Day 15 we met Shaggy and Scooby on the A.T.  Shaggy is in his early twenties with long curly hair held back with a colorful buff and he sports a  fairly long beard. He has some very colorful ink on his right lower leg and a goofy laugh that he shares often.  His sidekick, Scooby, is a loveable female German Shepherd that carries her own backpack of food. A few days after we met the pair, Shaggy made a difficult decision to send Scooby home because she was struggling with sore paws and legs. We’ve seen several hikers with dogs but we certainly miss Scooby.  Shaggy is such a kind soul that he wanted to donate to our “Hike for John”, as have several other hikers we’ve met.

On this date, our path surprisingly  intersected with the Bartram Trail, which encompasses about 100 miles in western North Carolina.  Be sure to check out the page on our website about William Bartram to find the significance of the Bartram Trail for Chief.

We are at a point in our hike that we see many of the same hikers every few days. Most of those folks who are serious about a NOBO hike are still on the trail. Let’s pause for some…

Hiker lingo– NOBO – northbound; SOBO – southbound;  YOYO – hiking one direction the entire way then turning around to hike the other way (that’s crazy x2)!

We met Re-calc on sunny Day 16 as we left Wayah Bald Lookout.  Wayah is the Cherokee word for wolf and we have heard the howling on the chilly mountain nights.  In his mid-sixties, Re-calc hails from a small town near Kansas City and is retired from the pharmaceutical field.  Re-calc said he got his trail name from getting lost and climbing the wrong mountain, not once, but twice.  While training for his hike, Re-calc said he couldn’t find a bag of sand to weigh down his backpack so he used a bag of manure (really!?!?). He said this day he needed some company and hiked with us for the day, helping to push us to a record 16-mile day.  Obviously he is fast but not too good with directions.  Re-calc said that he saw the two bear cubs on the day we went through that area but didn’t get a photo because he was running for safety.   A section hiker we met the next day, Driver, was able to obtain a coveted photo of the twin cubs.  Driver is from Medina, Ohio and on a two week hike before he returns to his truck driving position.  Re-calc asked Driver if he was a Michigan State fan.  To an Ohio State fan that is a blasphemous question!  Like we shared, Re-calc isn’t too good with directions.

Section Hiker – someone who hikes portions of the trail for weeks or months over a period of time/years.

Imagine our surprise to discover another Chief on the Appalachian Trail.  For purposes of clarification we will call him Chief 2 Feathers as he has been given variations of the trail name as he section hiked for several years.  Chief 2F is age 59 and retired as an EMT/Fire chief.  He hails from Virginia but spent most of his life in Connecticut as evidenced by a thick New England accent.  What we find most remarkable is that Chief 2F had open heart surgery last September and has been training in rehab with his backpack since January.  He was released by his cardiologist to hike a large portion of the trail and he hasn’t looked back.  He scales the mountain trails and skims over treacherous rock paths faster than we can follow.  Chief 2F’s goal is to complete all sections of the A.T. within a ten year span.  In addition to all the normal gear, Chief 2F also carries a guitar in his backpack and he joyfully shares his repertoire of Christian and folk songs at night in camp.

On day 18, we were hiking toward a stretch of North Carolina road where we noticed a quaint picnic area.  Chief said he wished there was a Coke machine because it would have been a perfect venue to enjoy a refreshing drink.  Not five minutes passed when a car pulled up and two trail angels, Mouse and Georgia, got out with some trail magic.

Trail Magic – unexpected food and drinks shared with any hiker passing by, typically that which is most craved but not available to hikers.

Mouse and Georgia are a young couple from Atlanta who just completed a six-week section hike.  They came back to share trail magic with other hikers and supplied a cooler of soft drinks (Yes, Chief got his icy cold Coke), chips, PB&J sandwiches, apples, oranges, and homemade chocolate covered peanuts.  May God bless them and all of our new friends on the A.T.  There is no pretense or positions on the trail.  Each person can be exactly the person God created them to be and enjoy the sweetness of the name of their choosing.

Talk With You Soon,  Chief and Toad

 

 

 

 

 

 

by

“Baby Bears Ahead”

That is what the handwritten note said that was attached to a tree we encountered as we walked along a sunlit portion of the Appalachian Trail on Day 9. The rain had stopped and we were enjoying a carefree moment until we saw the note. It said baby bears had been spotted the previous day and hikers should walk in groups and make lots of noise. “It’s not the baby bears I’m worried about,” said Chief. If you know Chief he always states the obvious. “It’s the hungry protective mother bear that will get us.”  (Not funny). We waited several minutes for Jeff who had stopped a while back to try a phone call but he didn’t show up so we tentatively proceeded along. We had met Jeff earlier that morning on the shuttle ride from the Best Western back to the trail. Jeff, age 23, is from Connecticut and shared that he is hiking to get in better physical shape so he can become a police officer. Again, if you know Chief, he had lots to share with young Jeff. The two hiked together for several hours earlier and talked cop shop.  I kept a safe distance behind happily engaged in my own thoughts.

Jeff eventually caught up with us and was moving at a fast pace so we guessed he had also seen the handwritten warning about the baby bears.   Thankfully, we never saw a bear that day and the three of us camped at Sassafras Gap that night with one other hiker from Salt Lake City.  We have noticed in this second week that our stamina has improved and we are able to hike a couple more miles each day. Although we are popping Ibuprofen like skittles, these old bodies seem to rebound the next day with renewed energy. It also helped that Jeff gave to us a tube of Pain-a-Trate, a cream that saved my aching Achilles. Old Jack from Walasi had told us to slow down and give ourselves 2-3 weeks to get “trail legs”. He said most novice hikers try to do too many miles early on and that causes the body to overwork and shut down. Maybe hiking in the sunshine just felt better, nevertheless our packs seemed less heavy and we felt stronger.  I am enjoying the time with my thoughts as I hike.  It is hard to find quiet time to think in our world.  There is so much “noise” and distraction, constant media and such.  The devotion on the Jesus Calling app read, “The mind is the most restless, unruly part of mankind.  Long after you have learned the discipline of holding your tongue, your thoughts defy your will… When the Holy Spirit controls your mind, you are filled with Life and Peace.”  I can relate to needing a more disciplined thought life.

We awoke to another gorgeous day on Day 10, even though a little groggy from awaking several times during the night due to coyotes.  We’ve found it takes about an hour to pack up our backpacks and tent and get ready for another day of hiking. We both think there has to be a more efficient way to do this task but so far it has escaped us. During our hike that afternoon I heard a faint growling sound in the brush above the trail. Chief stopped in his tracks and looked back at me so I knew he had heard it too.  “That sounded like a baby something,” he said.  “Definitely a baby something,” I echoed.  We quickened our pace down the trail and about 15 minutes later we heard a hiker let out a scream presumably to frighten off that something. A hiker that evening at the shelter talked about several bear sightings he had experienced in the last few days.

Day 11 brought our first milestone as we hiked from Georgia into North Carolina at Mile 78.  That’s one state down and thirteen states to go.  We have found that the A.T. attracts many foreign hikers.  We met Max and his friend from Germany who recently finished the equivalent of high school and have a six month visa to finish the trail. Their biggest challenge is calculating miles into kilometers.  We have also met hikers from Australia and the United Kingdom.  The majority of hikers overall are very young and men. We have only seen a few “senior hikers” and women.  One woman came up behind me and startled me so badly that I almost fell over the hillside.  She asked how I was doing and I replied, “Fine.”  (But in my mind I screamed — How do you think I am doing since you snuck up behind me and scared the crap out of me almost causing me to be killed falling off this mountain!?!?!?). I really need to work on those thoughts.

Day 12 started off with a bang as Chief was walking to the privy (without his glasses) and ran head first into a large tree branch.  The force of the blow knocked him to the ground where he sat stunned and dazed.  Again, if you know Chief you are not surprised by this incident and I shouldn’t be thinking my thoughts…  Unfortunately, I wasn’t trained in concussion protocol, which might have come in handy that morning.  Either way he wasn’t getting out of hiking that day.

On Day 13 we hiked up Albert Mountain, one of the highest peaks on North Carolina’s A.T.  The rocky ascent was wet from last night’s thunderstorms and the dense fog prohibited us from seeing what is reported to be an amazing view.  We hiked far enough to catch a shuttle into Franklin, North Carolina on Day 14.  After six days in the wilderness we were in DESPERATE need of a shower and clean clothes.  It also allows us Internet access to keep you updated on our adventure.  In our first two weeks, by the grace of God, we have hiked 107  miles and Chief still puts up with me.  Now I just need to work on my thoughts…

Until Next Stop,  Chief and Toad

 

by

Where’s That Ark When You Need One

Greetings!  First we want to thank the many friends and followers of our Appalachian Trail hike. Hundreds have visited this website and written comments and many have text or emailed words that encourage us daily. Thank you for your prayers and support –they are needed–and for your support of the Hike for John.  Together we can show our love and support for the Gurney Family!

We have so much to share from the past few days.  Days 4 & 5 we continued hiking in the rain and camped at Lance Creek that night in preparation of a climb of Georgia’s A.T. highest mountain the next day.  That 4,461′ ascent was challenging and took several hours.  Every time we thought we cleared the summit, there was another bend of the trail revealing a higher plane.  At one point we heard church chimes, which was odd because the only things we typically heard were pelting rain drops and an occasional bird singing.  The chimes were playing, “The Old Rugged Cross”.  Interestingly, the name of the mountain we were climbing was Blood Mountain.  How symbolic!  There is an old stone shelter atop Blood Mountain (see photo page) that contains a journal for hikers to sign.  We jokingly referred to it as a clue for CSI in case we didn’t make it down.  The rock face descent was so treacherous our fate was questionable.  Of course we made it down the mountain to Neels Gap before nightfall and spent the night at Walasi-Yi Center.  This historic stone building is well known in the hiker community with its quaint store to resupply and a bunkhouse for thru-hikers.  It is also the only place on the entire A.T. where the trail actually goes through a building.  We met an old hiker named Jack who likes to hang out at Walasi and tell stories.  Jack is a throwback with long gray hair and hippie necklaces and says he thru-hiked the A.T. nine times (seven of which were in consecutive years).  Jack and the Walasi staff were very helpful and even did a shakedown on some of the hikers.  We pause here to share…

Hiker lingo–  Shakedown:  when an experienced thru-hiker goes through the contents of your backpack and tells you what to discard to lighten pack weight.

Out in front of the Walasi-Yi building is a large tree with hundreds of pairs of hiking boots and shoes hanging in its branches.  Legend says it is the tree of shame.  Hikers who come down off Blood Mountain and quit the trail throw their boots into the tree.  Committed to continuing, we spent the night at Walasi for $17pp which got us a towel, shower, and a bunk in the basement bunkroom with seventeen  other rain-soaked hikers.  As you can imagine the hiker funk was off the chart.

Hiker funk:  a smell resulting from the combination of sweat, mildew and foot rot that typically takes multiple cleanings to eliminate.  It may garner you private seating in many restaurants.

Moving on… the hikers were treated to a hot dog and hamburger cookout that night by members of a local church who brought enough food and desserts for a small army.  Talk about a ministry!  It also opened up opportunities for conversation with hikers about their worldviews. Chief talked to three hikers, one of which is an atheist and two recovering addicts, trail names Detour and Machinegun, who have struggled with faith and religion.  We continue to pray for them and see two on the trail.  Detour sprained an ankle and is heading home to Pennsylvania.

Day 6 brought a few hours of sunshine and lifted the fog long enough to catch our first sights of the beautiful Georgia mountains and valleys.  The views were breathtaking as we looked from a mountain top over the many other mountains and green gaps in between.  Several  dogwoods in white bloom dotted the landscape.  The rain returned by afternoon and the wind kicked up so there was a definite chill in the air.  We experienced our first trail magic in the late afternoon when we hiked down a mountain and across the road.  A man named Bob was serving piping hot vegetable beef soup and sandwiches out of the back of his truck to hikers.  We were sharing with Bob about our Hike for John and he prayed for John and for the success of our endeavor.  We then hiked to the top of another mountain and dealing with pure exhaustion we pitched the tent in a remote clearing while the rain continued.  The continuous rain drops on the tent has become a familiar sound at night but something unfamiliar caused us to awake during this night.  The sound of footsteps on the leaves surrounding the tent conjured up all sorts of unwelcome thoughts.  We know there are deer, bear, raccoon and other wildlife in the area and we follow protocol with tying up all food in a bear proof bag.  The steps stopped close to the tent and then thankfully went off in the opposite direction.

We awoke the next morning to even harder rain!  How could that be?!  Good thing we were atop a mountain because we may have needed an ark.  Packing up the tent and backpacks in the downpour resulted in heavier packs due to the saturation of practically everything we carry.  We had a long hike planned this Day 7 to get to Blue Mountain shelter about 9 miles away.  We first had to get drinking water at a nearby stream, which in hindsight  was silly due to the numerous waterfalls we encountered the entire day.  The torrential rains continued all day.  The trail, once muddy, turned into small ponds and we couldn’t avoid the soaking sloshing feeling with every step.  The fierce winds kicked up around each bend and blew our packs with gale force.  Think Lieutenant Dan on the boat during the hurricane scene in the Forrest Gump movie.  That is how we felt!  Even with all our rain gear we were chilled to the core.  The only way to keep warm was to hike faster so we started at 9:00 a.m. and didn’t stop until 5:30 p.m. covering about 11 miles over jagged rocks and trail ponds.  When we got to the road at Unicoi Gap we were given a ride into the town of Helen, Georgia by a nice lady who rescues cats.  She didn’t understand why we were out hiking and kept asking us where our car was parked — LOL.  She dropped us off at the Best Western  motel that has rooms for $55 for hikers.  Finally this was our ark!  Thank God for the protection of a dry hotel room!

Day 8– We are taking a zero day at the Best Western.  There are lovely people here and they serve a mean southern breakfast for FREE!

Zero day:  when a hiker takes a day with no miles due to injury, bad weather, utter exhaustion, or to enter the sanctuary of the ark.

Until next time,  Chief and Toad

 

by

Go Into the Rain

Dear Friends:

We began our A.T. hike three days ago at Springer Mountain, Georgia. Torrential rains and cold weather have made for muddy trails and less than ideal conditions. Day 1 was a rough climb over a mix of slippery rocky terrain and mud which caused Toad to slip and fall not once but twice. Chief had a mishap by missing a trail blaze after a creek crossing causing us both to hike a quarter mile on the wrong trail before discovering the error. By the end of the day we were cold, wet and exhausted and wondering WHY we were out in these elements with aching muscles and pruny feet.  We met several hikers who also planned to go to Maine but several have dropped out already.  We were told that 20% of hikers quit within the first thirty miles.

Day 2 was not only a hike up and down one mountain but TWO mountains. The going up was a killer cardiovascularly, but the decents wreaked havoc on these old knees. The view would have been amazing if there wasn’t so much fog.  Nevertheless, we enjoyed the woods carpeted with last fall’s brown and red leaves and the young green plants of spring popping through.  Wild violets were a welcome sight of color and a reminder to find joy in the small things.

So it’s Day 3 and the rain was so penetrating today that we finished mile 21 and got a ride to the Hiker Hostel to dry out ourselves and our gear.  It has been hard to focus on anything but our discomfort.

Before we left, I downloaded the Jesus Calling app on my iPhone. Today’s devotion read, “When you are shaken out of your comfortable routines, grip My hand tightly and look for growth opportunities. Instead of bemoaning the loss of your comfort accept the challenge of something new. “. Ok, God we get it. We need to embrace the opportunities you provide starting on Day 4…

Chief and Toad