Weekly Trail Update #2: April 2 – April 8, 2018

Welcome back for another trail update.


Day eight: Cable Gap Shelter to Russell Field Shelter – 21.6 miles

Today was one of my shortest days. I got up at my normal time, after not sleeping too well as I accidentally set up my tent on a hill and was sliding all over. At one point the poles collapsed and the sidewalls just caved in on each other. But there was a privy there so it was nice to use that.

I passed Fontana Dam after about three hours and was hoping that the visitor center would be open so I could grab a snack. It wasn’t. It wasn’t even open for the season yet.

Passing Fontana Dam.

After crossing the dam you’re immediately in Great Smoky Mountains National Park, and after about a mile of walking in the road you move back to the trail. There’s a box to deposit half of the permit we had to buy, and then we’re off. There were lots of climbs to get up into the Smokies, and the weather was actually quite warm.

By the middle of the afternoon, I was getting pretty run down. I had originally planned to stay at Mollies Ridge Shelter, but over the past couple of days I’ve been putting in extra miles to get ahead and avoid a 27-mile day at the end of the Smokies, as planned. If I were to keep with that trend I would have pushed to the Spencer Field Shelter. However, about a mile short of Russell Field I’d had enough. My feet were really feeling it and my knees were getting sore too. I needed some rest.

Just before I got to the shelter, I had my first (and second) bear sighting. A black bear, not too big, right in the middle of the trail. He got scared and ran off, but once I got to the shelter he came around again and basically circled the shelter for about two hours. It was pretty wild.

Peek-a-boo!

The shelter here is huge – a double-decker with room for 14 smelly hikers. There’s only about seven of us here, which is a nice change from the overflowing shelters I’m used to seeing. There’s a couple of groups here that have been hiking together for a while now, so I’m the only outsider, but they’re all very nice. The one and only woman, whose name I can’t remember, recognized me from Instagram. Hilarious.

I like not having to put my tent out for a night and having the extra space to spread out. The downside, of course, is that there’s someone snoring. Good thing I have my earplugs.
Tomorrow I’ll press on and try to get a hair farther than what’s on schedule so that I really can knock a few miles off that 27-mile day. Hope my feet hold up.
Day nine: Russell Field Shelter to Mt. Collins Shelter – 22.3 miles

Sleeping in the shelter was nice for a change last night. Not having to put up or take down a tent made for a little less work, which I appreciated. However, even though there were only seven of us you can bet your ass there was a snorer. Luckily I had my earplugs, so once I popped those in I was good to go.

The hike today kicked my ass. There were several tough climbs, most significantly the one to Clingmans Dome, and the trail was incredibly technical. Lots of big steps, loose rocks, and so many roots. I messed up my planning a bit and ended up, actually, right on schedule. My plan was to stay at the Mt. Collins Shelter but I had been doing extra miles to avoid a 27-mile day tomorrow.

Because you’re required to stay in or near a shelter in the Smokies (no stealth camping allowed – not that I’d want to with this level of bear activity), I have limited options for distances. The next shelter after Mt. Collins was eight additional miles, which would have meant a 30-mile day. I’m not quite ready for that yet. In fact, I struggled enough getting these 22 miles in today. By the time I arrived, at about 6:15 p.m., I was sputtering with frustration. Not only is the shelter a half mile off the trail (and water an extra tenth), but I was so over the technical terrain. My feet were cut up, my knee was aching, and I couldn’t  seem to make any good steps. It was infuriating.

View from Clingmans Dome.

So the following day I was scheduled to do 27 miles and then have an easy 10-mile day into Standing Bear Farm the day after. Instead of that, because I don’t think there’s any way I can manage that mileage on this trail and in my condition, I’ll probably plan to stay at Tri-Corner Knob Shelter, which is 20 miles, and then have an 18-mile day to Standing Bear. Not too bad, I don’t think. Should work out.

Day ten: Mt. Collins Shelter to Cosby Knob Shelter – 28.8 miles

This was my longest day yet. Yesterday I was completely spent from that 22-mile section and I had decided that there was no way I’d be able to pull off 28 miles on similar terrain. The shelter at Mt. Collins was a half mile off trail, which I hated, and of course was packed full. I pitched my tent just outside, as did about a dozen others, and after having dinner I was out like a light.

I woke up a little late, at about 6:20 a.m. (I was wearing my earplugs so I think that drowned out the alarm) and packed my stuff. I was on the trail at 7:20 a.m.

To my surprise, the section from the shelter to Newfound Gap, 4.8 miles, was super easy. Soft, well-maintained, and with barely a rock to step on. I breezed through and got to the gap in just under two hours. At the gap, which has a large parking lot and lots of tourists, there was a group from a local church doing trail magic, i.e. handing out treats to hikers. Their spread was so good I actually asked if the items were for sale, not believing they would give this much away. They had oatmeal cream pies, Oreos, Honey Buns, Cadbury eggs, and more plus a whole cooler of drinks. It was heaven. I chatted with them for about 15 minutes while stuffing my face, and it was so great. It’s just what I needed.

Awesome trail magic!

I continued across the parking lot to where the AT picked up and an older guy started asking me about the hike, gear, etc. I’m always happy to have these conversations with people and hope they get inspired to do it themselves one day. For the next few miles on this stretch, there were lots of day hikers as you’d expect. After that, though, I barely saw anyone.

Out of the gap, the trail climbs up to the mountain ridgeline and essentially just follows it, offering some great views of the surrounding mountains. The trail stayed pretty consistent without too much incline (sloping more downward) throughout the day. At about 3 p.m. I stopped at the Tri-Corner Shelter, where I had considered stopping, but only grabbed water. I had already decided to push on, but the shelter was full anyway.

The last eight miles to Cosby Knob was rough, mostly because my feet were trashed. They had held up quite well thus far, but the trail deteriorated here and included a lot more rocks and roots, like the prior day, which slowed me down.

Despite that, I did eventually make it to the shelter just after 7 p.m. Of course it was completely full and I was greeted by a ridgerunner (a volunteer trail maintainer), which I hadn’t seen at a shelter before. She asked to see my park permit and then showed me one tiny tent site available, otherwise I’d have to backtrack about a half mile to another sanctioned tent site. I happily took the place available to avoid having to walk any more. Unfortunately it’s at a slight angle, so I’d be fighting the slope all night.

Also, it was supposed to rain that evening. It was expected to ease up by noon or so, but likely to be a wet morning so I needed to prepare for that.
Day 11: Cosby Knob Shelter to Standing Bear Farm – 10.5 miles

Last night was the most miserable experience on the trail for me so far. I was awoken at about 1 a.m. to the sound of rain on my tent. No big deal; I knew it was coming. What I didn’t expect was to be violently stirred at 3 a.m. when a big gust of wind took out the trekking pole at the front of my tent, making it collapse inward and exposing the open screen to the heavens and the pouring rain. I hurriedly tried to reposition the pole and the vestibule, but it was hopeless. The wind and rain were blowing so fiercely that it took all I had to keep the pole upright but water continued to spray inside.

When I finally got the pole positioned I still couldn’t manage to affix the vestibule so I grabbed my poncho and draped it over the entrance. In my sleep-deprived state, I thought this would be sufficient. Wrong. I tried to shield my face from the swells, but it didn’t seem to make much of a difference. Slowly, water pooled in the appropriately named “bathtub” floor of my tent and also began to fill the crevasses of my sleeping bag, pad, and pillow. Every few minutes, I would feel a cool sensation where I had rolled into a puddle and it was seeping through my down jacket or through my pants. I would try to move away from it, but it only seemed to make it worse. I resorted to wrapping myself as tightly as I could in my quilt and pulling it up over my head to cultivate warmth and provide protection from the elements. It did the trick insofar as I didn’t get hypothermia, but I wasn’t getting any sleep either. I lay there for hours, trying to manipulate the weather with my thoughts and willing it away, to no avail. I wrapped myself tighter, experiencing an uncontrollable shiver whenever I shifted. If I changed position, so would my pillow, and I’d be exposed to the icy wetness of its surface on my cheek.

Eventually, I think I just ran out of steam and was able to doze off for a few minutes at a time. I checked my watch often and it   seemed that more than 15 minutes had passed since the previous glance. My alarm sounded at 6 a.m., but it was barely audible over the  wind and pattering raindrops. I decided to try to wait it out, knowing that the forecast said it should die off. By 7:30 a.m., it had done so about as much as it would, I thought, so I made a break for it.

I hopped out of the tent and began furiously pulling out my sopping items – T-shirt, socks, jacket, quilt, gloves, etc., wringing them out, and stuffing them into my bag. The items were so bloated with extra water that I couldn’t fit everything in my pack as I usually can, so I had to strap my tent to the outside. I poured out my shoes, flung on my pack, and beelined for the trail. I was so uncomfortable and upset that I didn’t say a word to any of the fresh-faced folks emerging from the bone-dry shelter.

Once I got going, it began to sleet instead of just rain. Since my gloves were soiled, I had to stick my hands in my jacket pockets while cradling my trekking poles in order to keep them somewhat warm. I was cursing the fact that I didn’t get to stay in the nice shelter and that I didn’t set my tent up well enough to withstand the weather, but I quickly snapped out of that attitude by coming to grips with the fact that there was nothing to do about it now. “The only way out is through,” as they say, and so through I went.

Not long after starting, I passed an old gentleman on the trail and exchanged courtesies. Later on, after meeting a guy named Timeless and hiking with him for a while, I realized that the first guy I passed was Pappy, the oldest Triple Crowner. He is 87 years old and is thru-hiking the AT for the second time. He only started hiking after he turned 65 – pretty incredible.

Timeless has been hiking with him for a couple of weeks and says that while his achievements are amazing, he isn’t quite as sharp as he maybe used to be. For example, he didn’t bring any rain gear, a tent, or trekking poles when he started. He says it’s hard to tell if he’s going senile or actually thought those were good ideas. He helped Pappy acquire these items and has been hiking with him and planning their mileage accordingly. They do seven to ten miles per day.

Timeless was a nice and interesting guy – retired Navy, loves sailboats, and lives in South Carolina. I really enjoyed chatting with him until he split off at Davenport Shelter, their destination for the day, as it helped take my mind off my soggy situation. It wasn’t even 11 a.m. by the time we reached the shelter – a nice short day for him. I, however, had another four miles or so to go in order to reach Standing Bear Farm.

The remainder of the hike was fairly easy. Swooping switchbacks, a couple of short climbs, and even some walking on the road.

I got to Standing Bear Farm a bit after noon and was thankful that they had space – which I’m now discovering is not always the case – and I opted to stay in their tree house, which is exactly as it sounds. It’s small and simple, but private.

Accommodation for the night.

Sun-dried gear.

I had heard mixed reviews about this place as it’s a bit rustic – the laundry system is an old-school washboard and electric dryer, for example, but I found it to be just fine. They have a resupply shop that is decently priced, a hot shower, kitchen and sitting area, and a bunkhouse. It’s quite cozy.
I sent myself a resupply box here, and mom also sent me a package with some cookies and treats, which was great. Since I arrived so early, I was able to get first dibs on the laundry and shower, and spread my gear about the lawn to let it dry under the now-blazing sun.

All afternoon I relaxed, checked email (signal is weak), and did my chores. It was really nice. Everything dried, my electronics are charged, and I’m fat and happy.

One of the best parts was that I got to chatting with another guest, Crunch Time, and later on when he saw me digging through the hiker box looking for a left-hand glove to replace the one I lost, he told me to ‘hold that thought.’ He left, reappearing a minute later with a brand new pair of the exact gloves that I have (OR versa liner). He said that he had done the same thing (lost one), ordered a new pair, and then found his original. He gave me the new pair, saying he’s just glad someone can use them. The trail provides.

Tomorrow I’m preparing for a big climb out of this valley but should be relatively smooth after that. I’m planning for 20 miles to set me up for another short day into Hot Springs on Friday.

Day 12: Standing Bear Farm to Catpen Gap – 21.5 miles

Staying at the hostel last night was very nice. Unfortunately, the tree house didn’t have any heat, but the blankets provided some nice warmth. The temperature dropped drastically overnight and was below freezing for much of the morning.

I slept in a little late, packed my stuff, and made my way to the common area to make breakfast and top off the charge on my electronics. I had gotten some pretzels from the hiker box, so I tossed them in with my oatmeal. It didn’t taste as great as I thought it would.

I was on the trail by 8 a.m., heading up a long and sloping hill out of the valley. This hill was several miles long and it took me over two hours to reach the top. The temperature was still below freezing, but I had worked up a good sweat.

There were not many remarkable things to see today except for Max Patch, which is a big clearing on the top of a hill that gives fantastic panoramic views of the surrounding mountains. It was quite a sight. There were lots of thru-hikers taking breaks up there and also a lot of families and day hikers drinking in the scenery. The wind chill up there was substantial, so I just snapped few photos and continued on my way.

Top of Max Patch.

Because it was to  be a relatively short day, I only had about seven miles left to go after reaching Max Patch. The rest was uneventful, but the trail was nice and smooth.

I finished at a random place called Catpen Gap, which has space for a couple of tents and not much more. I passed on the shelter that’s about a mile back, as it was way too crowded already. Not long after I arrived and had a little fire going, another hiker joined me. His name is Sheffy and he’s a retired CIO for an international chemical company. He’s a section hiker, but has done over 1,700 miles of the trail already. He lives in Pennsylvania and comes out every spring to do a couple hundred miles. Really nice guy. We’re both heading into Hot Springs tomorrow (11.5 miles), so I’ll definitely catch up with him again.

Overall I’m still holding up. I’ve been having some pain in my right knee and also the outside of both feet (near my pinky toes) that is nagging me a bit. However, there is no swelling and it isn’t getting worse – just comes back every day – so I’m not too concerned about it yet. Hopefully the additional rest tomorrow will help.

Day 13: Catpen Gap to Hot Springs – 11.5mi

I left my tent site this morning just after 7 a.m., having woken up at 6:30 a.m. I’ve been getting tired of the long wait to cook my breakfast and the extra time it takes to eat, so this morning I tried just putting my oatmeal, protein, and coffee into my pot, adding water, letting it sit for a few minutes while I broke down camp, and then just drinking it. It actually worked very well and didn’t taste too bad while saving me about half an hour of time. I think I’ll be doing it that way from now on.

The route started with a long climb that took me about an hour to finish. From there, it was mostly downhill and easy.

Heading into Hot Springs.

Pretty quickly, my knee began to hurt. I mentioned it has been bothering me a little, but usually not until later in the day. This time with all the downhill, it started early and didn’t subside. I eventually made it to the Laughing Heart Hostel, right off the trail, and could barely walk. Everything else on my body feels fine.

I checked in, got a bunk, and then I headed down to town to buy some lunch and supplies. I hobbled down there, upset at my situation, and stopped by the Hillbilly Market, where they have made-to-order sandwiches and other goodies. I ordered a 12-inch meatball sub, bought some candy, and headed to Bluff Mountain Outfitters.

There, I bought a pair of Injinji socks, as my Darn Tough ones are already getting holes. I also picked up a knee brace, and am hoping that helps with the pain. Finally, some more hand sanitizer and postcards. I then went to the library, where they have computers that are free to use (although they request a donation) and I uploaded some pictures and published my first weekly trail update blog.

I walked back to the hostel from there, and my knee felt fine. Not sure what’s going on, but hopefully with the brace I’ll be able to put in some good mileage.

I’m scheduled to do 27 miles tomorrow, and the forecast is calling for rain throughout the day  and temperatures in the low 30s. Ugh. I’m going to stop by the Smoky Mountain Diner for breakfast at 6:30 a.m. to get the day started right.

Day 14: Hot Springs to Jerry’s Cabin Shelter – 27.2 miles
 Wow, two weeks on the trail already. It’s been quite a trip so far. Last night I didn’t get the best sleep, but it was decent. The bunkroom at Laughing Heart was very warm (and full) which made me drowsy, so I was knocked out at about 8 p.m. I woke up as some of the others began piling in at about 9:30 p.m. and then had a hard time getting back to sleep. There were a couple of loud snorers in there and just the general noise of ten people moving about. I was also really hot by that point so it was difficult to get comfortable. I did, eventually, fall back asleep and only woke up a few times before my alarm went off at 5:50 a.m. I grabbed all my stuff and dragged it out to the common area so I could pack without disturbing everyone else.
The forecast called for rain, and I could tell it was indeed raining outside. I donned my poncho for the first time (which is great because it covers my pack too) and headed out into the darkness. I didn’t walk for long, though, as my first stop was the Smoky Mountain Diner, a well-known stop on the AT that serves great meals and has homemade cinnamon buns on Saturdays.

Trail-famous buns.

I filled up there (had a breakfast wrap, cinnamon bun, and coffee) and by the time I left it was light out. I really wasn’t sure what to expect out of the day – I wondered how the weather and my knee would affect the mileage.
Exiting Hot Springs, you walk right through town and then are led down a path on the right side of the road. This turns into a trail, and then goes upward sharply. It was a pretty long and steep climb for a couple of miles before it began to level out some. While it was raining in town, it was just drizzling on this part so I removed my jacket and wind pants and just had the poncho over my T-shirt.

Peace out, Hot Springs.

That warm weather, however, would not last. Once I got higher, around the summit of Rich Mountain, the wind picked up and the temperature dropped. Soon I was struggling to unbuckle my pack straps with frozen hands in an effort to retrieve my jacket and gloves. For the next several miles, the weather was miserable. I couldn’t keep my hands warm, meaning I had to alternate sticking one in the pocket of my shorts while the other held my poles. I was having trouble keeping my poncho on over my pack and had to ask for assistance from a couple other hikers. Once in place it works well because of the snaps that cinch it together, but if those aren’t latched it just blows uselessly in the wind. After what seemed like forever (was probably eight miles or so), the trail finally descended to a lower altitude with less harsh weather.
Not to be fooled by the temperate climate, I left all my gear on knowing I would once again ascend into the clouds. A few miles later, that’s exactly what happened. I found myself surrounded by frozen branches and sticks as the clouds spat out hail and sleet. It never stopped precipitating all day.
The last few miles of the day were a challenge. I was getting quite cold, the trail was rocky and slippery, and my knee was beginning to hurt. It had been feeling quite good all day, part of which I attribute to the trail mostly going uphill which doesn’t bother it as much, and also because of the brace I’d been wearing. In any event, after 25-plus miles I was ready to quit. I finally reached the shelter at about 7:30 p.m. Per usual, it was completely full and what’s more, the inhabitants all seemed to be asleep already. I pitched my tent behind the shelter, hoping it would cut down on the wind drafts, and it then began to snow. I made dinner and called it a night.

That’s all for week two. Stay tuned for the the next edition.

Affiliate Disclosure

This website contains affiliate links, which means The Trek may receive a percentage of any product or service you purchase using the links in the articles or advertisements. The buyer pays the same price as they would otherwise, and your purchase helps to support The Trek's ongoing goal to serve you quality backpacking advice and information. Thanks for your support!

To learn more, please visit the About This Site page.

What Do You Think?