4/10/2008

Good, productive day. I do 12 miles, including 1000 foot climb of Clingman’s Dome, the highest point on the entire AT. The hike there was spectacular. First was the forest itself. At some altitude – something like 5700 feet – the nature of the forest changed dramatically. The open, clean sunny, grass – bottomed beech forest changed suddenly into spruce–and–fir mossy, dark. The change was immediate. To continue the simile from yesterday, Lothlorien changed into Mirkwood in a matter of ten paces.

The weather was terrific again – cooler than it had been, and very, very windy up on the ridges, but still mostly sunny all day. The last mile going into Clingman’s was as nice as any mile I’ve done on the whole hike. Spectacular views, warm sunshine but bracing chilly winds… beautiful.

At Clingmans’s Dome, there is a tower that tourists can drive up to, and I got a little bit of the rock-star treatment, (“Hey Celia-this feller’s walked here from Georgia!”) and a little bit of Trail Magic when a couple people gave me bottles of water. (“I hope you don’t mind if this is still partly frozen” –Um, that would be a big no…)

The 7 miles after Clingman’s is fairly rocky, but still very pretty. The biggest thing I notice along here is the enormous number of dead trees. Acid rain and non-native insects are taking an enormous toll, and you pass tree after that5 has died and fallen over-and not little ones but huge, beautiful 100-year old firs, fallen in the dozens just along the route of the trail alone. It’s a heartbreaking sight.

By 3pm, I have to make a choice. I’ve reached the last shelter before the highway crossing at Newfound Gap; I already know that I will need to go into Gatlinburg to re-supply. My slow pace over the past five days has left me with only three days’ food to cover the last 33 miles of the Smokies. I could probably do it, and part of me wishes I had tried, but the Parks’ camp-only-in-shelters policy, combined with my still-hurting ankle, suggests the better part of valor is to concede defeat and head into town.

At Newfound Gap, my thumb is out for nearly an hour looking for a ride. I amuse myself for awhile by counting how many of the cars that drive by have Christian bumper stickers-after awhile it stops being amusing. I’m assuming they have the version of the Bible that says you only help people out if they look nice and pose no possible threat to you. In many ways, the best day of the entire hike. I’m five minutes away from packing it in and going into the woods and camping in the woods, park service be damned, when I get a ride into town. An hour later, I’ve eaten at KFC and collapsed into a $30-a-night moted bed.

An old joke that seems not so funny at this moment: What’s the difference between a AT hiker and a homeless person? Gore-Tex.