I needed a vacation that I could afford and that would keep me off my computer so, naturally, the thing that made the most sense was to backpack for several days on the Appalachian Trail.
I had hoped to do the entire Georgia section, but I cut it short for the sake of being on a major road to make transport to my hostel easy.
Each of these image modules are meant to be scrolled through!
I packed way too much, of course. Most of the overage was food, though I was also using an old backpacking tent that weighed a lot more than comparable newer ones. I think my pack weighed 35 lbs (but it may have been more?)
I learned how to tie up my food bag and practiced it like twice.
Then I just went lol. I flew to Atlanta, arrived late at night, my hotel was overbooked and had given away my room so I regrouped at Village Inn and found another hotel just on the other side of an overpass.
I got up early in the morning to catch a greyhound bus out of the city, where I would meet the shuttle driver I had hired. Why didn’t I just make the entire trip a road trip? I don’t know, but I think I would have backed out at some point if I had readily available transportation.
I opted to save a day by not doing the approach trail through Amacalola, instead having my driver take me to the first parking area on top of Springer Mountain, which is just a mile from the official start of the trail. So I hiked a mile to the marker, then back out to get started for real.
On my way to the first shelter, I sprained my ankle. Later that day I also started my period. Then, the family staying at the shelter told me that Hurricane (maybe by that time Tropical Storm) Nate was on its way. Cool cool.
This was my view from the loft of the shelter on day 2. Soggy but fine.
The rain started within an hour and I had to walk very slowly with my ankle and 40 lb backpack. But I did it, going very slowly and carefully. The rain kept coming harder and the wind increased too. I stopped when I reached the next shelter, around 1 pm. I had been so careful the entire time not to get water inside my shoes, but the spur trail to the shelter was completely washed out and I was walking in an ankle-deep stream. I just stayed inside reading and tried unsuccessfully to dry off.
That night was fine, the shelter filled up as people stopped through the evening and into the night. I didn’t eat enough this day.
The next day, day 3, was the hardest and worst. It was hard to find water; despite the torrential downpour of the previous day, there was none to be found until I made it over a big and difficult mountain. The Fireball bottle that someone had left on the trail was the only way I knew that I had reached the peak. It was so wooded there was no view.
I got a second wind after that because I got to go downhill. And for some reason I thought for sure I’d see more water. I didn’t. The river was still quite a ways away. Luckily there was a road at the base of this mountain where someone was meeting his partner to give her supplies. He had plenty of water and shared it with me. He also had a dog that I got to pet. Recharged, kinda, I set off for the last leg to the next campground.
It was still an awfully long way to the river and the campground was up a steep hill from there. My legs were spaghetti, I had to go way off trail to find a tree branch high and thick enough to hold my food bag. I had to poop outside for the first time. I set up my tent, made some ramen, and went to sleep before dark. I regretted coming and felt the isolation of the trail for the first time.
But of course I was in the middle of nowhere with no cell service so even if I wanted to leave, I’d have to hike forward. The next morning, body aching like mad, I trudged along in my still-wet shoes.
Immediately things on day 4 were better. I saw some deer. I had cell service and my friends called me to check in. I found a pretty stream and I put my pack down and hung out there for a while. I slowed down. The sun FINALLY appeared, so I changed into my dry clothes. I had lots of snacks. I took a million breaks and stopped at the next campsite which was only about 4 miles from where I had started that morning instead of trying to push through to get as far as I possibly could. I hung out all my damp gear at the campsite and literally just laid around in the sun all day. It was great!
The next day, the fifth, I also vowed to go slow and take lots of breaks. I stopped at the very next shelter and ended my hiking day at around 3 pm.
The fire pit at the shelter still had some live embers so I built the fire back up and kept it going all afternoon while a few other people trickled in. This was the first night it was dry enough to have a fire and honestly settling around it in the dark with four strangers was such a great experience. It felt like a deep old human activity, as it is.
The next day, the sixth, I decided to make my last day. Two of the guys that had stayed at the shelter overnight offered to share a car to help me get to the hostel closer to the NC border where I had (optimistically) planned to end.
Anyway, the hike up to Blood Mountain was challenging but good. At the top someone overheard me saying how badly I wanted some crispy fruit and gave me an apple.
The hike down was treacherous but I did it with no further injury to my body or pride, and I saw some dogs.
Here are a few pictures from the next couple of days of recovery at the hostel before flying back home.
