ADAMS: Hike is a long series of 8-mile camping trips

Editor’s note:  Retired newsman Jerry Adams is hiking the Appalachian Trail (AT) for a second time this summer.  Here’s an excerpted version of a longer post that’s available at at-grasshopper.com or on Facebook.

By Jerry Adams, contributing editor

MARCH 14, 2019  |  Taking an unexpected day off, wary of the weather and listening to my body and giving it a day rest.

This isn’t playing out the way it did eight years ago, but, then, I am not the same man who did this incredible journey eight years ago. Not even close.

Adams

My sensei might have phrased it thus: “You must empty the cup, grasshopper. You must empty the cup.”  Translation – you must give up a lot of what you think you know so that you have room to learn more.

I was/am proud of the 2,000 Miler badge from the Appalachian Trail Conservancy that I earned in 2011. I affixed the patch to my backpack, assuming that the lessons of the past would help me in the present. It didn’t play out that way, as I believe I was trying to thru-hike the way I did then – and on that schedule – when I was not prepared either mentally or physically for that. Silly me.

A short day to a motel room off trail ended up turning into a full day off at a hostel. My afternoon nap convinced me that the 70 miles I had hiked since getting to Springer Mountain 10 days earlier had taken its toll. I listened and I rested.

Here’s some of what I’ve seen along the way.

My biggest surprise is the number of old folks out here. There’s a 71-year-old man, a married couple in their 60s and two other guys about that age. All taking their time and enjoying an adventure the doubters in their lives had quietly mocked.

The same is quite true for all of the plus-sized men and women struggling up and down the trails with plus-sized pack. It’s easy for the younger and fitter to scorn and mock them, tossing shame their way and eye-rolling their chance of getting to Maine.  But hey, jerks, they’ve hike 70 miles. 70!!

They might not make it to Maine. Neither will many of the others of us. But we’re out here. Trying.

The lesson for you guys back home isn’t to go hike the Appalachian Trail. It’s to take the stairs … and take the stairs again. Park at the back of the lot, not near the door. Repeat. Walk two blocks instead of one; four instead of two.

But for the AT, here’s the deal. It’s not a race. It’s a long series of eight mile camping trips, not, OMG 14 states and 2,192 miles. Focus on today and tomorrow will take care of itself.

Tomorrow, I’ll leave Georgia behind. Next milestones are Franklin, N.C. at 109 miles; then I’ll get to the Great Smoky Mountains and then on and on and on …

My last long trek was eight years ago and I spent weekends in the New Jersey woods for five years. This is the longest hike I’ve taken since 2012, when I hiked across New Jersey, a beautiful 75 miles, with an old guy from Tennessee named Birdman.

Those memories flashed back the other day when I reached a road crossing at Hogpen Gap on a cold and misty day, planning to find a flat spot as soon as I could and get into a dry tent. But, lo, there at a turnout was a car with the tailgate up and a woman offering Trail Magic!!

Her trail name was Shenanigans.  She thru-hiked in 2012 and, while we didn’t meet then in Jersey, she had hiked with Birdman. We laughed at the memories and each slipped into a Southern drawl that sounded a bit like Birdman.  Two cups of hot cocoa, I was on my way.

I did eight miles instead of 10, camping near the gap, but the next day would be my longest yet. I hiked a long, tough 12 miles, getting to Blue Mountain Shelter.  The next section through Unicoi Gap (I learned later) was considered to be the hardest section of Georgia.

I could see why. Over three miles, I hiked down to and out of the gap, losing and then gaining a thousand feet of elevation. Whew. Then, another drop and a thousand foot gain. I struggled and struggled through the rain, wondering if I would ever reach Tray Mountain and the shelter there.

Finally, near the top, the mist faded and the clouds cleared and suddenly the world opened up to a spectacular view of the North Georgia Mountains and of Tennessee and beyond.  A stunning reminder of why I do this.

The first week of this hike was marked by weather delays and temperatures dropping into the teens and barely reaching 40 during the day.  The next section — from Neel Gap to “civilization” at Dick’s Creek Gap — was 40 miles. I did it in five days — an eight mile per day pace that’s been my goal. It takes up to 300 miles to get “trail legs” and start doing long days and miles.

“Patience, grasshopper, and trust in the Lord, thy God.”

As I remember Birdman and the 2012 cross-Jersey hike, one memory flashes back.  After I reached the New York border, I was hiking down a side trail with a trail volunteer I had met. Basking in my awesomeness at having hiked across the state, I stumbled and tumbled, doing a face plant and banging my head. Hey grasshopper — “Pride goeth before the fall!”

I head to North Carolina later today a wiser man. And I hope a wiser man.  It’s been good so far. Perhaps better than I might have dreamed. But it’s not time to celebrate. Not yet.

Happy Trails.