AT Flip Flop Day 180: In the Dark

Tri-Corner Knob Shelter 1969.7 to Mt Collins Shelter 1990.3 (20.6 miles, 1990.3 total miles)

After being slightly harassed by a mouse in the night, I woke up around 5:45 to the sounds of Shady Tree, Milky Moo, and Painkles getting packed up. I didn’t mind, as it gave me a nice 45 minutes of dozing in my warm quilt, one of my favorite pastimes.

When my alarm went off at 6:30, I got up after a while, getting my ursack from where it was hung on a bear cable, and spreading peanut butter on a couple English muffins with protein. One of the section hikers gave me a couple bars and an energy gel packet, which I through was quite nice.

I was still packing up when the others left, but was soon joined by Flamingo and Spice. All my things were still wet from the day before, my socks and shoes especially. It was also still foggy and raining, though I was hoping it would clear up.

I also had s’mores poptarts, coffee, and a breakfast essential while talking to the others. My hiker hunger was in full swing, but also I wanted to enjoy my last couple weeks eating whatever I wanted. Last time I left trail I’d gained quite a bit of weight, and wasn’t planning on letting that happen again, so I had to enjoy it while I still could.

I was the last to leave, heading out just after 9AM, though I’d been hoping for 8:00, but the time somehow escaped me. I could feel the elevation I’d done yesterday as soon as I started hiking, but wanted to give the Smokies a chance to show me they were easy other than the two big climbs in and out, as others had told me.

The day started off with a few bumps up on the ridge, and I was pleased to find everything felt a lot easier than yesterday. I shed my rain pants and jacket after not long, feeling constricted by them, though it was still sprinkling so I left my pack cover on.

The gloomy day was getting to me mentally, especially because I’d been so sure for some reason that I was going to have perfectly sunny days through the whole Smokies, just because I decided I would. I went ahead and put on music to cheer myself up, starting with Mo Lowda & the Humble’s appropriately named Curse the Weather album.

It really seemed to help, and felt very much like a treat, since I usually tried to make myself wait a few miles or until after lunch to listen to music, books, or podcasts. As I passed a few spots that should have been views but were totally socked in, I felt a bit of disappointment.

Everything was quite beautiful though, the greenery popping from the overcast conditions, mosses, mushrooms, and pine forests all a sight to behold. On my way, I saw Flamingo doubling back without his pack to retrieve Milky Moo’s puffy that had been forgotten at the shelter, which was nice of him.

After a couple hours I stopped at the spur trail to Peck’s Corner Shelter, which was .4 off trail. I drank propel as a recovery from yesterday, and ate the energy gel packet I’d been given. When I hit the next viewpoint, I asked out loud, “Can I please have some views?”, trying to will it into existence.

It seemed to sort of work, because not long after the clouds began to clear in places. I began seeing views through the trees, and when I rounded a corner I found Spice sitting at a clearing eating a snack and taking in the view.

A bit further, the sun fully came out for several minutes, and I felt my spirits soar with the sunshine. The trail followed the curve of an enormous valley showing several mountains ringing the vast space, and when I hit these views I thanked the trail for providing.

Still, I had to be grateful regardless. As Mosey pointed out when I caught up to him taking a break a bit later, at this time of year the Smokies could easily have a few inches of ice on the trail. I’d also been thinking earlier about the PCT hikers who had to finish their hikes a couple miles before the official northern terminus due to wildfires. It could always be worse.

I came upon an enormous blowdown that looked like it might have happened as recently as last night, and couldn’t see an easy way around it. I ended up having to climb over the top, laying on my belly and crashing through branches to the other side, covered in dirt and pine needles. Later I’d swap amusing stories with the other hikers on the various ways we’d all traversed it.

A thick layer of cloud still persisted through the day, though it was quite beautiful watching fog around the mountains and flow with the breeze. I reached Charlie’s Bunion around 1:45 on a short side trail, but was unable to climb it because a couple day hikers sat up top eating their lunch.

I hiked another mile uphill to the next shelter for lunch, and saw Happy was there getting ready to head out. We noticed we both had much of the same gear, and talked for a bit before she headed out to meet Lentil and Looseleaf at the Newfound Gap parking lot.

I had more tuna burritos, and chatted with a man named Hercules, who’d thru hiked the AT in 2014. A couple large groups arrived at the shelter, too, as we were so close to the parking lot people could day hike in.

I headed down the 3 mile descent to the parking lot myself after about 40 minutes. It looked like I would be doing some night hiking today, and I’d been thinking that was something I’d like to overcome my fears of and get better at doing more, similar to how I’d been working on camping alone.

Camping alone was not really too feasible in the Smokies, as we were required to stay at the shelters or tent nearby. However, night hiking I could definitely do. Now that I’d also already listened to albums by Taylor Swift, Florence + The Machine, and Glass Animals, I switched to an episode of Backpacker Radio as I moved toward the parking lot.

I passed dozens of people on my way down, while Flamingo caught up to me a couple times. We hiked the last mile or so together, talking as we went along, making the hike go by faster. The sun was out again, and we got to the lot just after 4PM.

It was Sunday at the most popular parking lot in the Smokies, and it was a hub of activity. The lot was full of cars, we also saw slingshots driving around, and even a Pepto pink tour Jeep making the rounds. We headed over to the bathrooms, where we found Happy sitting outside filtering water, waiting for the other two.

Flamingo went to go find a ride to town, while I hung with Happy. She’d offered that I could might hike with them, and I thought I might as well take her up on it, as I really didn’t like to night hike alone. A few people stopped to talk with us, asking questions about our hikes and seeming in awe of how far we’ve gone.

I’d found cell service, and as I was working on copying and pasting my latest post from my Notes app to WordPress, somehow I looked away for a second and all the writing I’d spent two hours working on yesterday had disappeared.

By the time I was done googling how to find the undo button, which was now hidden in the “markup” menu for some reason, because I’d gone in and out of the note I’d lost the ability to recover the text.

I thought it was really poor design that I couldn’t undo what had been done, and experienced a couple minutes of frustration. As I went into the bathroom to dump my trash and use the facilities, Happy called out she was going to the parking lot to meet the others.

As I was getting ready to leave myself, I saw Mosey and Spice, telling them what had happened. They were going to hike a bit past me today, so I said bye to them, assuming Happy and the others had hiked out already.

I left the lot at 5PM, hiking like mad, listening to nothing but my own thoughts. I wasn’t super upset like I’d been in the past when having issues with my blog. I was a little annoyed that I’d been unable to undo what I’d deleted, but mostly I felt resolved that I’d just have to rewrite what I’d written yesterday to the best of my ability.

Everyone made mistakes, I told myself, and what mattered was what I did next, not what had happened that I couldn’t change. As had happened a lot lately, the trail was showing me how I was evolving into a more flexible and emotionally stable person, able to take things better in stride and work with what I had influence over rather than hyper focus on what I couldn’t control.

It was almost all climbing to the shelter, with a couple short descents thrown in the mix. I hiked out of the lot at golden hour, finding the climbs to be extremely easy, running off the adrenaline of what had just happened. I heard voices behind me here and there, thinking it was Spice and Mosey.

It helped knowing people were behind me, as I hiked over rocks and roots reminiscent of Maine, and darkness fell around me. I wanted to hike this alone, and give myself a little exposure therapy to night hiking. Just like camping alone, it could only make me stronger and more self sufficient in the backcountry.

I made it without my headlamp until about 6:00, holding out as long as I could till I turned on my light. Daylight Savings had happened last night, so this morning the sun had risen an hour “early”, at 7AM. It also meant sunset was now 5:30PM, and night hiking was just going to be unavoidable from here out I figured. It was a new, exciting challenge though.

As I hiked through an evergreen, mossy forest, for the first time I didn’t feel afraid while I hiked in the dark. The sky was still rather light, due to the almost full moon, but the clouds were still in full swing and the foliage thick, so I still needed my light.

Fog particles swirled in the reflection of my headlamp, and I could see my breath rise in a mist in front of me. I knew the Smokies were supposed to be, well, smoky, and I could definitely see that after a couple days traversing them. It rained on me a bit toward the end of the night, but didn’t last too long.

I sang to myself softly here and there, and stopped to collect a couple liters of water 1.8 before the shelter. It was counterintuitive to carry it that far when the water source was only .1 past the shelter, but the shelter itself was already .4 off trail, so that would just feel like insult to injury.

After hiking in the dark for 2.5 miles or so, I made my way down the side trail to camp. A woman had asked Happy and I what we would do if the shelter was just gone when we got there today, and it was a weird question but it echoed in my head as I strolled on a decline down the blue blaze.

I saw headlamps, though, and knew the shelter didn’t disappear after all. Milky Moo, Painkles, and Shady Tree were there with a sweet young couple who were out for the weekend. Happy, Lentil, and Looseleaf arrived a bit after me, and must have been the voices I heard behind me from time to time.

I’d thought they were ahead, but was glad I’d accomplished my first night hike alone without fear in my whole backpacking career. We all had dinner together, then everyone but me turned in early, getting ready for sunrise on Clingman’s Dome, the highest point on the AT.

I’d already done sunrise on Max Patch recently, and now that the clocks had turned back really didn’t want to wake up at 3 or 4 AM and hike 4 miles for there to only possibly be a view. Plus, I had quite a bit of writing to catch up on, so after the others turned in I stayed up for a few hours getting my work done.

Flamingo showed up around 10PM, having gone in and out of Gatlinburg to resupply. He’d gotten a ride from someone leaving the parking lot, and a very unexpected Uber back. It was difficult to Uber around the trail, so that was rather impressive.

I turned in later on, as I’d become much more of a night owl again, fluctuating with the seasons. I didn’t mind, because I’d left camp after everyone today, still made the miles I wanted to, and hadn’t even arrived at the shelter last. As long as I could night hike, I could make it just about anywhere.