Allen Gap 1904.6 to Laughing Heart Hostel 1919.7 (15.1 miles, 1919.7 total miles)
Yesterday had gone well for the most part until the evening, when I realized I needed to resume a solo hiking journey. Iroh and I weren’t getting along anymore the way we used to in northern Virginia, and it was for the best that we each go back to doing our own thing.
Even knowing it was the right choice, I was quite upset last night and this morning as I prepared to slackpack the 15 miles that I had to go from Allen Gap back to Hot Springs.
Yogi, a very kind person and thru hiker I’d met in 2015, lived nearby and had offered to drive me back to the trail instead of me having to pay $50 for a shuttle, which I was immensely grateful for.
Since I was coming back to town anyway, I was going leave my full pack at the hostel to pick up later, then I was planning on hiking another 3 miles out of Hot Springs to the first shelter to save money over another night at Laughing Heart.
I’d offered the free ride to Iroh as well, but he decided to stay back and figure something else out. Yogi and I took off from the hostel at quarter after 9, and he drove me on a scenic route back to the trailhead, along winding roads that followed the wide French Broad River.
We stopped at Paint Rock, where Yogi showed me North Carolina’s best known example of an American Indian pictograph. It was fascinating, and I enjoyed hearing about the history of the area and learning more about Yogi’s hike and life.
I was back on the trail hiking south by 10AM, starting up the mile long climb of 930 feet, one of the steeper climbs I’d had recently. I put music in right away, feeling emotional and wanting something to help me up the climb.
I was a little chilly at first, the sky overcast and gray, mirroring my mood perfectly. The trail was dry again, the leaves once more crunching underfoot as squirrels and chipmunks scurried around. Another section of trail had just been closed due to an aggressive bear outside of Erwin, but my days continued, for now, to be bear free.
The climb wasn’t bad, fresh as I was off a zero day and a couple nearos. I had a nice flat and downhill mile and a half before beginning the next climb, a less steep mile long ascent.
On my way up, I saw a couple older gentlemen stopped on the trail talking. I hiked up to them, and they greeted me in a very friendly manner. Some people just have a knack for putting me at ease as soon as I start talking to them, and these were a pair with that quality.
They introduced themselves with fist bumps as Woodchuck and Griller, section hiking and going from Allen Gap to Tanyard Gap today, another 6 miles ahead. I talked with them for a few minutes, and told them my plan to hike just past Hot Springs later on. They said they might see me in town later before I continued on up the climb.
I dropped down from there, then had another very steep climb of .4, bringing me to Spring Mountain Shelter, a small one on the ridge where I found three section hikers sitting and having a break.
I took out my PB&J sandwich I’d made for lunch, but saw it was only 11:30 and returned it to my bag, eating a protein bar instead. I said hi to the section hikers, then listened idly to their conversation as I sat at the picnic table for a few minutes.
When a woman told an apparently amusing story about backhanding her daughter at her kitchen table, I decided it was time to go. Physical abuse isn’t something I find funny or charming, and I took my leave to find a place further down trail to have lunch.
I had a nice 2.2 miles of easy descent to coast down after the shelter as a reward for the first few climbs of the day. I intentionally tried to let my body set the pace, rather than pushing myself to hike fast. I had to be mindful of my energy levels, as I continued to fight my seasonal depression triggered by the shorter days.
I spent most of the morning and early afternoon deep in thought about hiking solo again and my sadness that trail relationships could end so abruptly. It had gotten easier over time to endure this, and to adapt to these sudden interpersonal changes, but they still hurt and I knew I needed to feel my emotions to move through them.
On the downhill, I put on Order of the Phoenix and watched the mountain ranges in the distance through bare trees. Some ridges had a beautiful mix of deep red and green foliage, while others appeared as blue and gray shapes in the background, far away enough away that I couldn’t discern the trees that dotted their landscapes.
At the bottom of the descent, I hiked through Hurricane Gap and crossed a dirt road before my last steep climb of the day, .7 graded at 820 feet per mile. I took my time, and though I felt tired as I slipped on the leaves that would take me backward, I made it to the campsite up top at 12:40, my destination for lunch.
There was a bench to sit on, and this time I did eat my sandwich, along with several small chocolate covered donuts I’d packed out. I mixed caffeine and more water into the Gatorade Yogi had given me in the morning, and drank half of it.
After 10 minutes, I was ready to go, and only made it a tenth of a mile before I came to a .15 side trail to Rich Mountain Fire Tower. Yogi had told me it was worth going to, so I hiked the little bit of uphill there to check it out.
It was indeed one of the nicest fires towers I’d seen on this whole trip. It was large, with glassless windows and a balcony that overlooked a spectacular view to various mountains.
I took a few photos, including a couple selfies, some smiling and some with a more honest expression on my face, remembering how many hikers had told me this year that they took pictures of themselves crying on trail. I noted later how tired I looked in them.
Now listening to a podcast, I descended from Rich Mountain, a couple miles that were, fortunately for my knees, less steep than the uphills. I’d brought two liters of water and the Gatorade with me, so was glad when I passed by a couple puddling sources that I didn’t have to worry about scooping from them.
At the bottom of the mountain was Tanyard Gap, which had a couple vehicles parked in a gravel lot and a paved bridge to walk over spanning the highway below. As I began climbing the next hill, I realized my efforts to make it to Hot Springs without digging a hole were going to be in vain.
One cat hole later, I filtered my second liter of water and ate a couple pieces of Halloween candy. I was tired again, but knew the rest of the day was going to be very easy terrain wise.
It was a small hill I was climbing now, and at one point I looked up to see Iroh and Quasar hiking northbound toward me. Quasar, who’d tried to get in Yogi’s car and come with me this morning, was predictably very happy to see me, and I him, of course.
As Iroh and I hiked in separate directions, he ran back and forth between us several times, probably confused as to why we weren’t all going to the same place. My heart hurt as he finally went off with Iroh, knowing I’d be missing Q quite a bit.
On the ridge, I followed Mill Ridge Road for .3, saying hi to a couple who were getting out of their car to go for a walk. The sun was weakly shining out from behind thinning cloud cover, and I’d put on my sunglasses for the first time all day not long before.
There were pretty fields around the road, and a dammed pond once I got back into the woods and began a mile and a half descent. I passed through Pump Gap Trail, then up and over one more small bump before beginning a mile and half drop down into Hot Springs.
As I entered lower elevation, orange leaves became prominent on the trees around me, contrasted by the dark green of rhododendrons that were continuing to be common along the trail.
I started to see views down into the canyon where the French Broad flowed, golden hour approaching and the sun beginning to really appear as clouds separated overhead. It was 4:00, and I sat on a log for a while, contemplating if I really wanted to hike out of town or not.
The truth was I didn’t want to hike out, I wanted to enjoy more electricity, a hot shower, a comfortable bed, and town food. I reflected on my frustration earlier in the hike that Sunshine and Catchup had wanted to take that unplanned zero at The Maine Roadhouse, but found myself sympathizing with them much more now that I was at the same point in my hike, missing the comforts of off trail life.
The funny thing is that I knew I would be devastated when my hike was over, and would already be planning and dreaming of the next thru hike almost immediately. I’d backpack forever, if I could take a few weeks off here and there to recoup and get a job to replenish funds. However, it didn’t work that way, so hiking till the end was the way to get to a point where I could rest and recover.
I decided rather quickly to stay at the hostel just one more night. I could get a semi private room for $35, meaning I’d have a real bed with linens, and for $5 more than a bunk I wouldn’t have to unpack my pack to get my quilt out from the very bottom. It was worth the $5, as I was now carrying so much cold weather and rain gear that it took quite a bit longer to pack and unpack these days.
Decision made, I kept going down toward town, stopping at a campsite with a view, and walking over to the side of it where I could see down below to the river better. Unfortunately, doing that made me a bit disoriented, and I took off in the wrong direction, climbing back up .6 miles before I realized my error.
When things began to look a little too familiar, I checked my phone and turned back around, descending once more to the campsite. I didn’t even get upset, already having decided to stay in town for the night, either too tired or too zen to care I’d just tacked on an addition 1.2 that wouldn’t count to my day.
As I reached the junction to continue the right way, I saw a hiker with an AT hang tag on his pack heading toward me. Had I somehow gotten bad information from Far Out again and turned around for no reason?
It turned out I hadn’t, I’d simply met a rare wraparound hiker named EKG. He’d started at Rockfish Gap in Virginia and gone north, now was going north from Springer to conclude his hike at Rockfish. EKG was friendly and funny, and I stopped to talk with him for several minutes.
It turned out he knew Slice quite well, and told me how he’d been in Gatlinburg for her zero with Chimps Rudolph, Hippy Gandalf, and KT. In fact, she had officially joined the Council of Chimps herself.
I enjoyed hearing about EKG’s adventures. He admitted to feeling quite tired as well, about 1600 miles in, and looking at an eight month thru hike because he’d had to get off trail two times for medical reasons. It made me feel a bit better about my own timeline as well.
The only thing I didn’t agree with EKG on was that he was totally over the views. I didn’t think I’d ever get over views, each one special and unique to me, a reward for the journey and a reminder of the vastness of existence.
After I said goodbye to EKG and continued on, I ran into a day hiker going north with a black and white cat hiking alongside him. The cat had no harness or leash, her name was Luna, and she was absolutely beautiful. The hiker told me she hikes with him often and they’d just driven from Santa Fe to check out Asheville, as he was thinking of moving there.
A couple tenths of a mile later, I arrived at Lover’s Leap Rock, a visually stunning view of Hot Springs, the French Broad, and the mountains that surround it. I stood there for a couple minutes soaking it all in, the early evening light perfectly illuminating the scene.
I passed a few hikers going downhill, as I cruised over rock steps and slippery leaves, using my trekking poles to keep me safe, knowing I was almost there. I walked alongside the river for a bit, before ending up walking down the same road we’d driven into Hot Springs on.
In town at 5:15, my first stop was to the Dollar General for a few food items. I ran into Lentil and Looseleaf, who’d hiked in yesterday, happy to see them. Lentil excitedly showed me pictures and told me about a midnight flower she’d gotten to see bloom at another hostel in town that only does so one night per year.
I asked their dinner plans, but it sounded like they were going to a place that seemed a little pricey to me. So after Dollar General, I headed over to the diner, but realized they’d closed at 2PM today.
I walked back toward the other restaurants in town, unsure where to go. The pizza place and Iron Horse Station were also closed for the day. There was a Mexican spot or Spring Creek Tavern, which had been closed the first time I’d been around. I was still having cravings for chicken tenders, so I walked over to the Tavern.
On a whim I decided to eat at the outside bar facing the creek, which was quite lovely. I ordered my chicken tenders, got a seltzer, and sat to play chess on the app I’d downloaded. The tenders were delicious, nearly as good as the ones I’d had at Iron Horse the other night.
While I was finishing up, I saw Woodchuck on the sidewalk outside the Tavern, and we greeted each other. I asked how his hike was, and he asked me if I was still hiking out of town. I told him no, and he said he and his brother were going to sit inside and to say hi on my way out.
I sat a while longer finishing my drink, and Woodchuck walked out to where I was, asking if I’d already paid my tab and wanting to pick it up for me. I told him that was very kind, but I was all paid up, so he handed me a $20 bill, though I’d only spend $13 or so.
I thanked him profusely, and he told me again to say hi inside when I was done. I was in the mood to go back to the hostel and curl up with the book I’d just bought, but Woodchuck was very nice so when I was done I went inside and sat down at the table with the three men.
Woodchuck and Griller were cousins, and Woodchuck’s brother, who hadn’t hiked with them today, was named Pyro II. All three were affable and very nice people, and I found myself wanting to stay and hang out with them the longer we sat talking.
I told them all about my hike, answering questions and telling stories about the people I’d met, explaining how a flip flop works, when I’d started, and more. They seemed so impressed with me that I began to feel impressed with myself again, something I hadn’t actually felt since I’d hiked 21 miles the day after I got back on trail from being sick.
They bought me another drink, and shared several slices of two rounds of pizza with me. The trio was on day three of a five day section, though they’d each done about half the trail so far. They had plenty of stories about thru hikers they’d met along the way, and it sounded like they’d been doing this type of trail magic for quite a while.
Again I found myself reflecting on how some people are just so genuine, and so kind, it can put me at ease very quickly and how nice it is to be around those types of people. I’ve deeply appreciated those qualities in others for a very long time, since I was first introduced to them. I’ve always wanted to be that type of person, though I’ve no idea how well I have or have not succeeded.
When they asked me about the hostel, what it was like and how much it costs, I was happy to answer all their questions. A short time later, Griller handed me a hundred dollar bill across the table, and asked if I could put it to good use.
It felt like a joke for a moment, as I sat stunned, looking around at them. I told them they really didn’t have to do that, but they insisted they wanted to, and it was from all of them. I took the money, starting to tear up at the gesture of kindness and support. Pyro II asked if he could give me a hug, which I happily did, so touched in that moment.
We continued our meal, but soon the others flagged down a couple around their age who were their next door campground neighbors. Chris and Shawn had just retired and begun traveling in their camper.
Again, they were just two lovely people full of enthusiasm for travel and adventure, kind souls that I clicked with immediately. They were in awe of my hike, as the others talked me up and I answered more questions about the journey.
Chris and Shawn urged me to rent one of the hot tubs at a spa in town that that pumped directly from the underground springs, and even offered to treat me to one (they cost $60 an hour). I said that was sweet and I’d wanted to, but definitely had to hike out tomorrow. Pyro II joked that I was accepting donations.
Before I knew it, Chris had come over to me with $60 in her hand for me and a hug, and I was in complete shock at that point, stammering my thank you’s and frankly bewildered but incredibly grateful for these gifts.
After more praise and compliments, Chris and Shawn headed out. The guys ordered dessert for the table, which I’d been eyeing since I’d had my first dinner, and I was stuffed by the time we were done eating, and also full of positive energy and emotions. A day that had started out so unhappily had turned into one of the most magical evenings yet.
Pyro II offered to give me a ride back to the hostel so I didn’t have to walk the half mile in the dark alone. I’d already hiked that section of the trail the other day, so I was happy to accept the ride. They dropped me off with hugs and said they would see me tomorrow, as they’d be hiking a section north when I’d be going south.
Inside the hostel, I got to meet several new SOBOs, and had some nice conversations with them. I was sharing the semi private room with a really cool woman I’d met the other day, and after getting settled in I took a shower and changed into town clothes to sleep in.
I’d been feeling down about myself lately about my hike, and rather tired as well. I found it rather inspiring that as soon as I decided to stop feeling bad for no reason and remember what I’d accomplished and how rare that was, physical proof had arrived to me immediately.
Woodchuck, Griller, Pyro II, Chris, and Shawn had made me feel like a hero, like an intrepid adventurer in search of meaning and purpose in life. As Shawn had said, so many people just let their dreams be dreams, while I went out there and actively chased them. I’d been given gifts I’d truly needed tonight, and new energy and inspiration to continue down that two foot path in the woods.