AT notes #3: NOC to Davenport Gap

4-8
Today was a very singular day: few hikers and animals along the path, bright and constant heat, endless still air hanging on ridge and peak, thoughts from the mundane to the deeply personal.

Despite the number of hikers who set out every spring (1000-2000) and despite the weekenders and boy scouts and college students on break that seem to gravitate to this trail from the major cities of the East, I still find peace and self-awareness like I've never known. Some days I can be smiling with welling joy and then cursing and crying--all alone and in the same moment. It is a far departure from the life many of us are accustomed to and in that I find freedom.

The hike from the NOC was a day of grinding climbs and sticky heat. Access to water was a little more difficult so instead of venturing off trail to fetch I decided to stay on trail and push farther to the next source; I found that I did this often which always resulted in prolonged dehydration. I guess my incentive here was progress--a strange notion that begins to unravel after 100's of miles.

4-9
I awoke before dawn to roll up my bed, put on my socks, fetch water, and eat. I set off from the shelter leaving all my fellow hikers behind. I was excited about the close proximity to Fontana Dam: the gateway to the Great Smokies. Having lived so close to the park for almost 3 years without a visit I was ecstatic about walking it end-to-end with fresh eyes.

I bounded and hopped along the trail just like the morning of my second day in GA. It was immensely exhilarating to go full speed over rock falls and a worn track that unfolds like the back of a stegosaurus.

After 12 miles I began to descend towards the tourist village of Fontana Dam. Spring was beginning to paint the hollows and hillsides verdant green and sprouting trillium of all colors. I immediately found Provost napping in the grass and sat down to cook some mashed potatoes to empty my foodstuffs.We hiked up to the shelter, the so-called "Fontana Hilton", and found a giant shleter with a clear view of the lake. We met an older, retired couple visiting the dammed lake and they later picked us up as we attempted to hitch to town. Town basically consisted of a P.O., a general store, and a laundromat: all that any thru-hiker needs.

Here we met back up with Charley, now cooking a pound of bacon for the 5-6 days in the Smokies--he loved bacon, especially in his morning grits. With beers it had the feel of a thru-hiker weekend grill party. Ice cream sandwiches, beer, cooking meat, nothing to do but hangout, and relaxed people.


Back at the shelter (which has the capacity for 30-40 people, hence the name "hilton") a gang of hikers was gathering. To our great luck, we had timed our walk to meet with the Hikers for Christ. The Hikers for Christ were composed of three gentlemen from the Midwest. One of them had set off on a thru-hike years back and has since convinced his church and friends to support their RV trip to cook breakfast and dinner for desperate hikers. Hot meals for dinner and then breakfast the next morning offered all the benefits of home. The pancakes flowed like a great batter river. Thank you.
4-10

With full stomachs Charley, Provost, and I set off. It was amazing to begin our walk over the New Deal era dam which linked us to the road and trailhead.(that's the Smokies behind us)

We quickly separated as Provost hiked ahead, I maintained, and Charley fell behind. As I ascended I noticed a great plume of smoke rising from near the dam. I never found out what was the cause and I took this to be good news, as hikers tend to circulate stories very rapidly.

Up to Shukastack Mt.

Shortly thereafter I was enchanted by a trail that was bordered with blankets of tiny violets--I think they're called Confederate Violets. The Smokies are home to a huge diversity in animal and plant life maintained by a temperate rain forest ecosystem. I was hoping to see the salamanders, elk, and bears.

I could sense an ancient, protected energy in these mountains compared to the Southern Natahalas through which I had just passed and I felt inclined to walk more respectfully in this place. This seemed to entail less hurry, more concentration, and awareness.

I ended the day at the last shelter before the more exposed rocky peaks and terrain that I would encounter in the morning.

Rocky Top and Thunderhead Mts. provided some far reaching views despite cloud cover. It was a brilliant beginning to what would be one my toughest days. This day would mark the first time I thought of quitting. The land all day was undulating, steep, and rugged--which meant the pace was brutally slow. My mind seemed addled as I met signs clearly telling me I'd just covered only a fourth of what I thought I'd walked. It was a day of low gaps and rare vistas.

We intended to stop short of Clingman's Dome (the highest point on the A.T., and a normally veiled overlook of TN and NC) , but we pressed on and up to meet Fish, who had hitched ahead days ago to meet friends on a section hike in the Smokies.We were lured by the thought of a hitch down to Gatlinburg--a town I orginally wanted to purposely avoid.The views were stunning and treasured. I felt honored to see so clearly the land I have and will call home for a long time. I loved the gift of weather we were given in a place notorious for the dramatic and the very wet.
After eating 4 Krispy Kreme doughnuts and a pop-tart before dinner, I was ready to head out with the guys to get sandwiches and beers at the local microbrew. Carb-heaven. Let them eat carbs.

4-12

To walk in Gatlinburg is to marvel at...well I'm not sure what to call it. It was all the trappings of your neighborhood mall, your regional theme park, and, oh yeah, it's close to the Smokies. Sorry, no pictures.

The hitch was really tough as we waited too long to start and we needed a specific ride. The main road through the Smokies goes through Newfound Gap splitting the north and southern sections. Clingman's Dome was a side road past Newfound. My sign clearly stated we were clean hikers coming from town after bathing and washing clothes--totally non-offensive. But this wasn't your standard mountain community, it was a community of tourists who seemed to think we were attractions along the way instead of real people; laughing and taking pictures of our outstretched thumbs. Thankfully some obvious locals gave us a ride to Newfound. With limited time before sundown we needed to get a ride up to Clingman's to make the miles in between there and Newfound. I worked the smile hard for at least an hour before a couple rocking some Skynard graciously offered us a ride--I love the South.

Now at Newfound we still had 3 miles to hike in the dark before the next shelter. To me this was not ideal since I'd heard way too much talk of black bears. I took this too far and my fears produced a high-pitched howl and rocket leap as my bare leg brushed up against a hemlock bough. I thought it was a bear. I lost all trail cred.


4-13

The highlight today was the first sight this morning after setting off. Already the northern section of the park is far more expansive and spirited. We found Charles' Bunion-- orginally created as the result of a fire and named by Horace Kephart-- offering views of the 6,000ft peaks and the falling hollows all leading West. The scene was indeed very western as it resembled my picture of the Rocky Mts.

We hiked through tall forests of spruce and rock, along the way befriending Josie or "Outlaw". Due to shelter constraints at the destination we'd intended, a ranger advised us to call it a day early. In an effort to protect the park, hikers are not allowed to camp outside of a shelter. Also paying hikers have priority over thru-hikers, so if hikers with permits show up they can take your space. We had no difficulties with this. We took advantage of the early camp to dry out clothes, play cards, eat, and play; usually it's just eat, then sleep.

4-14

We all agreed to make the 20+ miles out of the Smokies, for a night at Standing Bear Hostel. I got off to a very quick pace. At times a pace like this is a good idea to boost spirits and test limits. On this day it was good and bad: a wonderful sense of personal strength, but later seriously fatigued feet.

After spending days around 6000ft. and above , the descent to Davenport Gap was like exploring foreign lands with all sights and smells new and novel.The mild scent of tree sap and forest floor duff was gradually replaced with sweet mountain laurel pollen and the sound and movement of water. The warm smells were more delightful than a pastry shop and I found such lightness in my step.

The descent seemed endless and the flat walk was so abrupt that body struggled to re-align to a normal gait. My senses also had abrupt adaptations to make from the cool, dry air of where I'd been to hot oven of this now pine and brush land of red soil, 4000 ft. lower. And suddenly I found Eden there along the Pigeon River.Here trillium, ferns, and red asters flourished. I was able to stop my momentum long enough to breathe deeply and take in all of the potentcy of the place.

The trail passed over waterfalls, the river itself, and then under Interstate 40. Today was truly amazing as I recount all the sensations of a long moving picture of forest in the springtime.

Standing Bear held true to the promise of one of the best hostels on trail. I passed the evening with BBQ, horseshoes, and fireside conversations with my walking tribe.