“Write it. Just write it…Write until your fingers hurt, then keep writing more. Don’t ever stop writing. Don’t ever give up on your story…Don’t ever let anybody take away your voice. You have something to say, your soul has a story to tell. Write it…Love you work. Be brave. Just write.”     – Melodie Ramone

Day 19

Today was a nostalgic day of hiking for me. I would be covering familiar ground, as a result of a 2011 Smokies section hike with my friend John, his brother Scott, and my eldest son, Jason. The morning of Day 19 was chilly and windy, considerably colder than the last time I was in these parts.

Near privy-less Russell Field Shelter, I stopped to take care of some business behind a tree in the recently named Oats n Dark Chocolate Granola Gap…just across from Nature Valley. (For those keeping tabs, that was just the #2 tree-side #2 in 180.4 miles. Also, for those keeping tabs, no need to…I am doing it for you.)

At mile 183, just south of Spence Field Shelter, a 2-mile stretch (to Thunderhead Mountain) constitutes what I consider to be the prettiest section of the first 250 miles of the AT…stunning views, sprawling grassy balds, birds chirping, interesting rock formations, etc. The only thing missing was Julie Andrews streaking across the landscape singing Climb Every Mountain. (I don’t think “streaking” was the word I was looking for there. Try getting that visual out of your head now.) Anyway, I decided to stop, take my pack, boots and shirt off, lay down on a sun-baked grassy bald, and eat an entire package of sliced salami. If John, Scott, and Jason had been there, they’d have done the same.

I continued the climb up to…(drum roll)…Rocky Top! Rocky Top, you’ll always be, home sweet home to me, good ol’ Rocky Top, Rocky Top, Tennessee! Go Vols! Okay, I got that out of my system. As I stood on top of Rocky Top, I had a flashback to 2011 when Jason and I stood on those same rocks. I learned from Elle that later that day, some Tennessee hillbillies were up there serving shots of moonshine and singing Rocky Top. That would have been something to witness. The only trail magic I got was a handful of tic tacs from some section hikers from Cincinnati.

As I descended Thunderhead mountain, BooknBoot was on my tail and we started picking up speed. For no particular reason, we wanted to see how fast we could go. Like alpine skiers, representing the USA and Australia, we tore down the mountain, with rocks and roots serving as poles or gates to dodge and maneuver. Near the bottom, we stopped to catch our breath and get water. It was there that we had a really interesting conversation. First, she told me about her doctoral dissertation. It’s based on the book Suttree by Cormac McCarthy (whose other works include Blood Meridian, All the Pretty Horses, and No Country for Old Men). She’s hiking the AT, in part, to gain some perspective on the character Cornelius Suttree, who left a life of privilege with his prominent family to live near Knoxville in a dilapidated houseboat on the Tennessee River (probably next to the guys who were singing Rocky Top and giving out shots of moonshine earlier in the day). She spoke passionately about her research and made me want to read Suttree and her dissertation.

She then mentioned my blog and said she had read several of the AT entries. She looked me in the eyes and said, “Fob, you need to write a book. Seriously, your stories are quite good and funny and people will read it. Not everyone can be out here hiking the AT. Tell your story for them.” This sweet little Aussie, with a big brain, striped leggings, and a giant winter owl hat, couldn’t have been more sincere. I found it all rather touching. So, I told her I would. Just like that, at a watering hole at the foot of Thunderhead Mountain, in the Great Smoky Mountains, I gave my word that I’d write a book about my AT story. So I will.

After 12 miles, with the temperature continuing to drop, we arrived at Derrick Knob Shelter. One by one, members of The Great Smoky Mountain Bubble came rolling in…Master Wayne, Nesquick, Stitch, etc. The Smokies are conducive to hiking bubbles because stealth camping (tenting wherever you want) is prohibited in the park. You must sleep in a shelter if there is room in the shelter. If not, then you are allowed to tent near the shelter. Also, section hikers with shelter reservations are allowed to bump thru-hikers out of the shelter…because they have reservations and because most aspiring thru-hikers would prefer tenting anyways. All these rules left some hikers with a bad impression of the Smokies, but I understand the need for some rules given that it is the most visited national park in the United States.

After eating some Mountain House Beef Stroganoff, gummy bears, 3 Advil, and a Little Debbie, I sat on the grass feeling tired, stiff, and cold. Then, from out of nowhere, I spoke 6 words that I had never said before: “I want to do some yoga.” Before I had the chance to take it back, Patricia (Mom) offered to guide me through a yoga session. Next thing you know, I’m on my back, contorted like a pretzel, trying with all my might not to shoot beef stroganoff at the bear bags hanging nearby. After watching me struggle through the first exercise, Mom mercifully suggested we stop there and build on that progress in future sessions.

That night, we packed ourselves into the shelter and hunkered down as the temperature dropped, wind gusted, and rain fell.  Little did we know that for the next four days, at elevations from 4700 to 6700 feet, we would endure not only rain but some of the coldest temperatures any of us had ever camped in. If Spring had sprung, someone forgot to tell the Smokies.

Sir Fob

 

Bubble – noun – “a good or fortunate situation that is isolated from reality or unlikely to last.”

Day 17

I awoke, broke camp, and ate a granola bar dipped in peanut butter…another breakfast of champions. After climbing out of Cable and Black Gum Gaps, I began the long descent into Fontana Dam. Halfway through this 5.5 mile hike, Moses zoomed past me like I was standing still. (Moses was trail named by members of a church youth group as he sat in all his bearded glory atop Preaching Rock (mile 21.8). He’s a Christian from Louisville KY who hikes fast and posts great AT thru-hike YouTube videos on the Phollowing Phil channel.) Initially troubled by the disparity in our hiking speeds, it occurred to me that in the wilderness, it’s always best to let Moses lead. On the other hand, would following him result in 40 years of wandering on the AT? That’s a lot of granola bars. Regardless, the plan was for Moses to get to Fontana Lodge first and book a room for me, Stitch, Robi Dobi (named after an elephant in her favorite children’s book), and himself. He delivered as promised, as one would expect from a Moses.

Fontana Dam is a great touristy place for families to vacation and for tired hikers to re-charge and re-supply. It’s also a great place for hiking bubbles to take shape as you prepare to enter The Great Smoky Mountains. A hiking bubble is a group of hikers who will generally travel together over the course of several days, weeks, or in rare instances, even months. You may or may not actually hike near them during the day, but will camp with them near the same shelter or campsite at night. Being a part of a good, fun, mutually supportive bubble is, without a doubt, one of the very best things about hiking the AT. It’s within those bubbles that friendships are forged, burdens are shared, and memories are made. With each successive shelter, campfire, or frigid morning shared, the bonds grow tighter. You tend to ride the bubble until your hiking pace, be it slower or faster, causes you to fall behind or get ahead. If you’re fortunate enough, you’ll eventually catch on with another bubble and ride it for awhile.

At the Fontana Lodge, the first order of business was to pick up the second food package I had mailed to myself. It contained a 6-day supply of food…about double what I needed. (Lesson learned: no more food mailings.) I then took a long hot shower and ate fish n chips with Moses and Stitch. (To clarify, I was alone in the shower and together with them at the restaurant.) We then walked down a hill to do laundry and re-supply at the General Store. Later, we had dinner (Pasta Primavera!) and were joined by Patricia (trail name Mom) and Megan (trail name Orbit…because she has a big beautiful open-mouth smile like the girl in the Orbit gum commercial). This was the same mother/daughter team from Vermont that I had shared a cup of coffee with on Megan’s birthday back in Hiawassee. As we enjoyed dinner and conversation, little did I know I was sitting in the nucleus of what would become my first incredible hiking bubble!

Day 18

“If you drive to, say, Shenandoah National Park, or the Great Smoky Mountains, you’ll get some appreciation for the scale and beauty of the outdoors. When you walk into it, then you see it in a completely different way. You discover it in a much slower, more majestic sort of way.” – Bill Bryson

For the first time in my life, I awoke with a bearded Moses in the bed next to me. (Words last spoken by Zipporah several thousand years ago.) I got up and, in Macgyver-esque fashion, made oatmeal by heating water with the coffee pot. I then hitched a ride back to the trailhead where I hiked a couple of miles to and across the beautiful Fontana Dam. I immediately entered the Great Smoky Mountains National Park and walked along an asphalt road several hundred yards with Big Bird, a retired military officer who dispenses advice like the big yellow fellow on Sesame Street.

I then re-entered the woods, placed my GSMNP permit in the hiker permit box, and began a 2700 foot climb over the next 10 miles. Despite the tough climb into the Smokies, it was a gorgeous, cool, sunny day…tailor made for hiking.

At mile 170.8 I came face to face with the terrifying Shuckstack Fire Tower…the scariest thing I’d encountered since hearing at Fontana Lodge that our next President would likely be another Clinton or Trump. As my wife will tell you, I don’t like heights. The older I get, the less I like them. I nearly wet myself watching The Walk, a movie about the guy who tight-rope walked across the World Trade Center towers. I don’t like steep roller coasters and so I’m usually the guy designated to sit on a Six Flags bench, watch everyone’s stuff, and eat a $9 corn dog. However, before starting my AT journey, I told myself I need to face my fears and do the fire towers…even Shuckstack.

Years ago, my eldest son, Jason, preached a sermon that, to this day, has had a profound impact on me.  Entitled “20 Seconds of Courage,” it’s based on this line from the movie, We Bought a Zoo:  “You know, sometimes all you need is 20 seconds of insane courage.  Just literally 20 seconds of just embarrassing bravery.  And I promise you, something great will come of it.”  In the movie, the boy needed just 20 seconds of insane courage to express his feelings to a girl that he liked.  Maybe you need it to jump out of an airplane, or go on a mission trip, or simply invite your neighbor to go to church with you.  You don’t need an hour of bravery…just 20 seconds.

As I approached the base of the long set of stairs, I was digging deep to find my 20 seconds. I was also hoping for a miracle…a “closed for repair” sign…or maybe a sudden lightning strike…reasonable requests from a guy who had just slept next to Moses. No such luck…it was time to dig deep and face my fears. As I took my first step, I noticed the right rail was missing on the first set of 20 steps! Are you serious? How could North Carolina, a state which brought us the Biltmore Estate (not to mention Krispy Kreme doughnuts and the Venus Fly-Trap), not have the common decency to put another rail up on the Stairway to Fob’s Death? Unbelievable!

So with my palms sweating, my heart pounding, and my knees already weak from the climb into the Smokies, I took my first step onto Shuckstack and stopped six inches off the ground. That wasn’t so bad. I then took my second and third and fourth steps and the fear began to slowly creep in. I hated it. And I hated myself for hating it. I gripped the left rail so tightly that a vein popped out of the back of my hand. If I was Jacob’s (Ladder) daddy, then Shuckstack was his grandfather. With each step, the earth moved farther away, and I wondered why I wasn’t sitting, watching the other hikers’ backpacks, and eating a corn dog. At the top of the first set of stairs, I looked down and nearly pooped myself. I needed a new strategy. Rather than live in the moment, I decided to distract myself by making up new words to a church song…specifically the song, My God and I. Weird as it may seem, with each step, the song in my head went something like this…

My God and I, we’ll climb these stairs together;
We’ll walk and talk; look down and maybe puke.
We’ll grasp the rail, and wish there was another;
My God and I, will climb to Shuckstack’s view…

That song, whether it was a God thing, simply a distraction, or both, got me to the top unscathed. For the rest of my life, that song will always remind me of the climb up Shuckstack. Unfortunately, the climb down Shuckstack was just as terrifying, and the only song I could think of was Free Fallin’! I eventually managed to make it down to solid ground, even though the rail on the final set of stairs had still not been replaced. I was relieved and maybe a little proud to have stared down one of my greatest fears..at least in this instance. But the Smokies weren’t done with me yet…not by a long shot.

At mile 174 I passed the side trail to Gregory’s Bald and then the idyllic Doe Knob, two very special places to my friend, John Walsh. It was on or near Doe Knob that, years ago, John took a nap, and was awakened by a deer licking him. A true story…and quite plausible once you’ve seen the amount of hair on John’s back. Ironically, and just as true…a few miles later, as I approached the stream at Ekaneetlee Gap, I spotted two deer in a clearing off to the left about 40 feet from the trail. As I tried to discreetly reach for my camera, one of my trekking poles dropped and the deer darted off into the deep woods. Bummer! I never had the chance to ask if one of them had once licked a guy named John.

After a 12.6 mile day, I arrived at Mollies Ridge Shelter for what would easily be my favorite night on the AT so far. My previously introduced hiking bubble had picked up some familiar faces, like BooknBoot, the Aussie lady out here working on her dissertation who I first met as she bunked under me at the Neels Gap hostel. Additionally, our bubble expanded to include…

Nesquick – single southerner, last name Quick, great massive beard, early 20s, great sense of humor

Deadwood – married southerner, early 30s, also incredibly funny; thinks Fob looks like Robert Downey, Jr.

Elle – 28-year-old engineer from the northeast; self-described “adorable” and she is; a trail diva with princess-like qualities; near-term goal is to be reunited with her boyfriend at Newfound Gap

Conductor – previous AT thru-hiker; shares his considerable trail knowledge; earned his trail name by the graceful manner in which he swats at spider webs when entering shelters/rooms

Master Wayne – real name Bruce; section hiker; green hiking jacket makes him look like The Grinch

I built a massive campfire and we sat around laughing and eating and telling stories and jokes. Really, really good times. Yes, it was just a bubble…”a good situation that is unlikely to last.” And yet it was our bubble and it was a good one and we were living in the moment.

As I was about to doze off on the top level of the Mollies Ridge Shelter, Deadwood crawled into his sleeping bag in the spot next to me. He looked over and stared into my eyes and proclaimed, “I’m sleeping next to Ironman. The fantasy I’ve had since I was 7 years old has finally come true!” Everyone laughed.

Ironman, aka Fob, finally dozed off to sleep…happy to have found a spot in the shelter…but even more so in the bubble.

Fob

Bonus Doe Knob Photos for John Walsh:

“The hero is commonly the simplest and obscurest of men.”    – Henry David Thoreau

Day 15

I broke camp and descended 1 mile to the Nantahala Outdoor Center (NOC), a paradise for outdoorsmen.  Across a sprawling campus with a river running through it, you’ll find an outstanding outfitter, restaurant, general store, white water rafting, kayaking, and more.  It’s the kind of place that sucks you in and makes you want to stay awhile and raise a family and then retire.

My first stop was to the Outfitter to pick up my first food mail drop…3 days of food I didn’t need.  Between Trail Magic food and eating less than expected on the trail, I way over-estimated food needs and wish I hadn’t sent either of my two food mailings.  I then headed to the restaurant to chow down on some Fontana Hash Browns…onions, peppers, broccoli and tomatoes sautéed and placed over home fries with 2 eggs and melted cheese…and several shakes of tobasco sauce. As I devoured it, along with four cups of coffee and five glasses of water, I watched kayakers practicing their craft in the raging rapids below. I thanked God for carrying me this far on the journey and for this moment of being warm, full, and dry.

After a few rejuvenating hours at the NOC, I began the long…LONG…ascent up to Cheoah Bald. In fact, it’s rated the 5th longest climb on the AT…3000 feet of elevation gain over 5.8 miles. It’s not technically difficult…it just keeps going and going…like a hiker in the NOC restaurant bathroom after eating Fontana Hash Browns with tobasco sauce. On the way up, I came across Simba and Firecracker, aka the Weasleys of Hogwarts, the ginger brother and sister team with sparkling hair.

At mile 140, near Grassy Gap, I found the Wade Sutton Memorial. On December 7, 1968, about 783 feet southwest of the memorial, Mr. Sutton of the North Carolina Forest Service “gave his life suppressing a forest fire, that you might more fully enjoy your hike along this trail.” I stopped and paid my respect to this man and considered the horror he faced as he succumbed to a fire on that steep mountainside when I was two years old. He didn’t become a hero that day…he was already one because he was willing to go into harms way to protect lives and natural resources. I also thought about my nephew, David Watts, and friend, Les Rydl…two men who have made similar commitments to fight fires and respond to emergencies and are heroes as well.

After 7.7 uphill miles, I reached Sassafras Gap and tented behind the shelter. Around the campfire that night, I met some new friends including…

Stone – his trail name comes from 2 sources. First, he hikes really fast downhill, like a rolling stone.  Second, he’s a Christian and loves Matthew 21:42, which reads, “Jesus said to them, “Have you never read in the Scriptures: “ ‘The stone the builders rejected has become the cornerstone; the Lord has done this, and it is marvelous in our eyes’?” So the trail name reminds him of who he is and whose he is. He is from Roanoke, Virginia, and is hiking the AT as a missionary, supported by his church.

Abbie – likes to rotate continuously around the campfire, but rejected my suggested trail name of Rotisserie.

Amelie – hails from Birmingham and Hoover High…friend of Abbie…teaches 2nd grade…just out here for a week supporting Abbie’s thru-hike attempt.

The Hikers Formerly Known as ABBA – from Switzerland or Sweden or maybe Swaziland.  Individually, I call them Swiss Miss, Fernando, and Dancing Queen.

Moses – another Christian and fast hiker from Louisville Kentucky.

Stitch – a really fun, friendly hiker and ex-Army gal from Gainesville, GA.

Around the campfire, I learned that Wildwood, the 20-year-old special needs hiker, out here with his mom (Driftwood) injured his feet and had to get off the trail for X-rays and a couple days of rest. Also, Maia, my pastry chef friend, went to the NOC outfitter to get new shoes. The foot guy told her that her toes were infected and she needed to get off the trail for a couple of days. Please pray for Wildwood and Maia.

It was a rough nights sleep because I mistakenly thought that tenting at an angle would be fine. As I crawled onto my sleeping pad, I slid to the bottom of my tent like a fat man on a greased slip and slide. I basically had to keep my tired legs extended throughout the night to avoid being in a fetal position at the bottom of my tent.

Day 16

I awoke on Sunday morning, Easter Sunday, and realized how weird it was to be out in the wilderness on Easter Sunday. As I crawled out of my tent, I heard someone talking over at the shelter and went over to investigate. Turns out it was Stone, giving a thoughtful, encouraging sunrise message about God’s love, Christ’s sacrifice, and the meaning of the resurrection. Great stuff! He also reminded us all that what Christ did is a gift, a present, and each of us has the option of whether to open/accept the present or leave it wrapped and in the box.  What have you done with Christ’s gift?

Today I would hit the toughest, short, non-scramble section of the Trail so far…Jacob’s Ladder, at mile 151.7. Brutal! As I gasped for air and felt the burning in my calves, I did what any child of the 80s would do…I put on some Def Leppard and climbed the ladder!  At the top, I looked back and told Jacob I was his new daddy.

After 15.2 miles I tented near Cable Gap Shelter with Stone, Moses, Stitch, the Hikers Formerly Known as ABBA, and Terrible Lizard…who got that name when a salamander somehow managed to crawl down into her 2-liter Platypus bag.

As I crawled into my tent, two thoughts came to mind: 1) I was less than 6 miles from the Fontana Lodge and all that would bring; and 2) I had unintentionally and creepily placed myself directly below the privy, giving myself an awkward view of the knees and ankles of hikers doing their business.  I quickly zipped up the tent and put in my earplugs.

Fob