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Smoky Mountains: Part 2


Gatlinburg road crossing

The enchanted forest had turned creepy in the fog and clouds. As I crossed the road into Gatlinburg, I was tempted to get a ride in to escape the approaching storm, but where was the excitement in that? When I arrived at the shelter I pondered continuing, as I had only done seven miles. However, there was no way I would make it to the next shelter before the rain hit, and combined with the wind and low 50s, I decided I would rather not risk hypothermia. Reluctantly I stayed, and warmed up by the fire.


Thruhikers moving tents into the rain to make shelter space for those with reservations

Now despite all the fantastic people you meet on the trail, there are always a few sour apples. Such was the case with the two guys who came striding into the shelter, cocky and full of liquid confidence, causing a disturbance to the peaceful atmosphere. I watched drama unfold as some snapped at their rude behavior. Soon, a group of eight arrived with reservations. Thruhikers are required to give up shelter space for those with reservations, and since the shelter was already over capacity, someone had to move. My throat tingling from campfire and cigarette smoke, I immediately volunteered. Though it was pouring rain, I eagerly ran out to set up my tent. Finally, I would have some peace and privacy.


It was midnight, and I lay awake listening to the rain. Lightning flickered in the distance. One. Two. Three. I counted until thunder rolled, as habit from working in the field. 24 seconds. Safe.

Huge flash. One. I barely had time to form the word before thunder roared around me. I froze. Not safe; it was too close. What should I do? Squat in lightning position inside my tent? My sleeping pad is filled with air. Does that even protect me from the lightning splashes? My tent poles are metal. That attracts lightning. But not as much as the tin roof on the shelter. Should I run up to the shelter? I would have to cross an open field. Am I exposed here? I'm pretty close to the field. My thoughts raced. Indecisive, I lay petrified on my mat. Eventually I settled down, as the danger seemed to have passed. Then: flash, boom! Again, right on top of me. My heart raced. Lord protect me. I pondered again what I should do. Finally sleep overcame me and the storm moved on.


 

Firefly had pulled a muscle in her back rolling over in her sleep, so I forced her to let me carry her tent. I barely noticed the extra weight as I checked my phone, turning it off airplane mode to see if I had service. A message awaited me from my mom, wishing me a happy April Fools day. It was April Fools? Something must be done about this. A plan started to form...


The perfect spot for my plan

I found the perfect spot. A huge flat rock with a straight drop off and incredible view. I waited for Firefly, eating lunch. She arrived just as I was finishing. "So don't hate me," I told her, as she climbed onto the rock, "But I set your tent here to get my food bag out and I was looking at the view and stretched my legs out and... I accidentally kicked your tent over the edge..." She started laughing. Laughter? I had expected silence, anger, vengeance, anything but laughter. "Are you serious?" she asked. "Yeah!" I answered, trying to hide a smile, "I'm so sorry! I feel really bad, I'll buy you another one, "I continued. She laughed louder. "Why are you laughing when I'm so filed with remorse?" Unable to keep up the act, I pulled out a note: April fools!


She informed me she was laughing so I wouldn't feel bad, if what I was saying was true. Wow what a good friend. I suppose kicking a tent off a cliff could be funny...

 

The last day in the Smokies. I passed a few men going south and one walked up to me, holding out a bag of honey buns. I gasped a thank you. The AT: the only place where it is ok to accept sweets from a stranger.


Delicious surprise

I covered the downhill miles quickly and arrived at the shelter just after lunch. Despite having traveled 15 miles so far, I felt good, and pondered continuing to the hostel a few miles away. Though I enjoyed the Smokies, I was ready to get out. I waited for Firefly to see what she thought.


The food room

She was in agreement with continuing to the hostel so we took off. Standing Bear Hostel has a small room devoted to food, and their system of 'take what you want, write it down, and pay later' makes it easy to buy too much. Firefly and I gorged (and I mean gorged) ourselves on pizza and chips and dip.


Deciding to save some money, we continued up the trail to find a place to camp. Apparently a ton of food makes Firefly take off while it turns me into a snail. I was in a severe food coma. This wasn't your average post-lunch fatigue. This was I'm-going-to-sit-on-the-side-of-the-trail-and-stare-off-into-nowhere-for-hours-even-though-it's-getting-dark kind of coma. It took everything I had to put one leg in front of the other up the hill. I imagined a duplicate of me jumping around cheering me on. It was dark when we reached a suitable camp spot two miles later. I tallied up the days miles. 20.5. Our longest day by far. Every part of me hurt.

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