Green Corner Road 1951.6 to Tri-Corner Knob Shelter 1969.7 (18.1 miles, 1969.7 total miles)
I woke up after a wonderful night of sleep on Kathy’s couch, covered in a thick comforter and dreaming deeply. It was 7AM, and Kathy was going to synagogue, so we needed to leave by 7:30, and I didn’t want to hold her up.
She served me pumpkin and raisin oatmeal, and I had a second breakfast of Lucky Charms right after. I took my coffee to go, and we were on the road just after 7:30, chatting away about hiking and writing as we went.
Over the highway, clouds were glowing pink and orange as the sun rose. Although Kathy was very modest and humble about her hiking career, I was thoroughly enjoying learning more about her and her experiences in the woods.
She dropped me off just before 8AM as planned, and departed with a hug, saying she’d see me again at Hiker Thanksgiving in a few weeks. I sat to the side of the gravel road reorganizing the outside pocket of my pack and my fanny pack before departing at quarter after 8 down the road and into the forest.
I had a small hill to climb up and over as a warmup, before the very long ascent into the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. I descended a large stone staircase, walked under Interstate 40, then traversed Pigeon River Bridge before the trail took me into the woods once more.
From there I climbed up another hill for 1.6 miles, stopping briefly for a third breakfast of chocolate covered donuts. I noticed the sky had become extremely overcast and realized I hadn’t gotten around to checking the weather for my upcoming days.
I’d been going rogue lately. I hadn’t made an itinerary since before I met with Miss Janet, I hadn’t screenshotted the weather for each day, and I hadn’t even downloaded the waypoint photos for my final full section of the trail I’d just entered.
That was a big deal for me, an itinerant planner, control freak, perfectionist, and person with OCD. The trail had relaxed me in many ways, and it was liberating to not be so rigid and stressed about everything being just right.
When I reached Davenport Gap 2.6 miles into the day, I crossed another gravel road and walked up to the metal box where thru hikers were supposed to deposit their permits for the park. The instructions on my permit said to deposit half in the box and carry the other half with me, writing my entry date on both pieces.
I’d assumed the kiosk would have a pen, but I was incorrect, and I certainly didn’t have one. I wasn’t sure how important it was, but also didn’t want to get a $125 fine, the fee for not having a permit in the park. I’d seen a black van drive up and park on the road, and thought maybe I could see if the driver had a pen.
I’d noticed this van parked at trailheads a couple times recently on my slackpack to Hot Springs. It looked like Furps’ van, but had west coast plates on it, so it was distinguishable. I figured whoever it was had some affiliation to the trail.
I actually walked over to the road, hesitated, and walked back toward my pack. I then said out loud to myself not to be scared, just go ask for a pen. Even now, I was still working out my social anxiety on the trail.
I walked up the road to the passenger side of the van, where a dog was sitting and saw a man in the driver side. He waved at me, and rolled down the window. The dog barked once at me softly, then decided I was okay, licking my hand a couple times.
The man seemed very friendly and had long brown hair, a beard, and was wearing a purple knit cap, looking every bit like someone who belonged adventuring around in a conversion van. He had a pen for me right away, and confirmed the date as well.
I was getting ready to leave, but asked his name, and received two. Owen, or At Home. I couldn’t believe my ears for a moment. “I know you!” I exclaimed.
Well, I didn’t know him, but I knew of him. He’d hiked the Appalachian Trail northbound this year, completing his Triple Crown. Not only that, but he’d blogged every single day while he was on all three trails, an astounding feat to me.
In fact, I knew I’d wanted to document this hike, but until I stumbled upon his writing on The Trek I hadn’t known it was possible to post every day from the trail. His website, hikefordays.com, directly inspired me to write and blog about every day of this hike months ago, when I would read his posts religiously before I got busy getting ready for my own attempt on the AT this year.
I can’t say how meaningful it was for me to meet him, especially so far into my hike, after I’d been writing about mine for nearly six months. We fell immediately into a conversation about maintaining a website and publishing every day while managing to hike a 2,200 mile trail at the same time.
He understood that aspect of my hike like no one else I’d met. I didn’t want to overstay my welcome, though, but as I was about to excuse myself, he asked if I wanted any fruit or a hot beverage. I couldn’t say no to fruit, and could use all the caffeine I could get for the climb ahead.
Homes opened up the sliding van door, revealing a beautiful van build with a little couch for me to sit on. He made me hot tea with oat milk, and I wolfed down a mandarin and a banana. He asked me if I’d met his partner yet, SpiceRack, and said she was going to be getting to the road soon.
I hadn’t met Spice, but had read about her and knew she was going SOBO. They were hiking the Eastern Continental Trail together in addition to both their AT thru hikes. After Homes summited Katahdin, they’d hiked together from there to Quebec. Now he was following her in the van while she hiked south, and together after Springer they would hike all the way to Key West, Florida.
I was very excited to meet Spice, but was very surprised when she arrived and gave me the same reception I’d given Homes. Spice had been following my log entries on trail, and had even found my blog from another website and had read some of it so far.
Her hiking partner, Mosey, arrived after a bit as well, and we all sat talking and getting to know each other, trading stories about our hikes. I was surprised when I looked at the clock and saw two hours had passed. I reluctantly refused Homes’ offer of a second cup of tea, knowing I still had many miles to go.
I invited the others to Hiker Thanksgiving and we exchanged contact information, before I returned to trail to finally deposit my permit. It was a testament to the nature of the trail that my pack with my phone half sticking out of a pocket had been sitting there for two hours completely untouched.
I began rocketing away up the mountain, fueled by adrenaline that I’d finally met At Home and Spice, plus buzzing with the additional caffeine I’d drank. I saw a sign after just an hour telling me I’d hiked 2.9 miles already, which was great news.
I had a nice flat section of trail to enjoy as a break. It was Saturday in the Smokies, and I began seeing many section and day hikers going in the opposite direction. I stopped to chat with a few of them, including a former 2018 thru hiker, Psych.
People seemed to be really enthusiastic about meeting thru hikers lately, and I’d been hearing a lot of congratulatory comments, similar to what I’d seen NOBOs experience up north. It was exciting, but also bittersweet.
I was back to not wanting the trail to end, not out of fear but because it made me so happy. I wanted to soak up every bit of the last couple weeks out here, enjoying the home stretch and what almost felt like a victory lap. This hike meant more to me than I could fully comprehend just yet, but I knew it was life changing.
It had been a hot and muggy day, almost feeling like summertime down in town this morning. As I got higher in elevation things began to cool a little and get breezy. There were lots of rhododendrons around, and gorgeous tapestries of moss and ferns clinging to rocks next to the trail.
I reached the Mount Cammerer Trail junction after climbing 3,000 feet over 5 miles from Davenport Gap. From here there was a blue blaze that would take me .6 to a fire tower with a supposedly fantastic view on top.
Kathy had urged me to go, and I’d been fully planning to before I’d spent a couple hours at the gap. Not only that, but the day was still so foggy and overcast that I wasn’t at all confident I’d get a view from up top, and didn’t want to add an extra mile to my day with no reward.
I also wanted to hike another 3 miles to get to the next shelter for the privy and lunch, in that order. I was hiking hungry, as I continued on the ridge, a descent of a couple miles ahead of me. I ate milk duds, but really needed actual food soon.
Fortunately what EKG had told me the other day proved to be true, and there were hardly any leaves on trail at elevation, making the hiking a lot easier. There were not many views I could see, but at a clearing in the fog a rainbow appeared. I watched it for a moment, and it faded away very quickly, as I’d just happened to be in the right place at the right time.
I reached Low Gap, then ascended .8 to Cosby Knob Shelter where I stopped for lunch at 2:40. I made tuna burritos and met a few section hikers that were in for the night. It was too early for me to stop hiking, so I continued on toward the next shelter, 7.6 miles further that I’d decided to aim for this morning. I also saw in the log that the flip flopper group would be there too, and I knew Spice and Mosey were planning on it as well.
After a flat couple miles, I began climbing again, though I wasn’t going very fast anymore. I’d been trying not to listen to anything today, to conserve phone battery, but decided now was the time to get grooving. The music worked, and I was on my way again, speed restored.
Up on the ridge that was the site of a prior plane crash and former helicopter pad, the rain that had been threatening all day finally came for me. My pack cover was put away, but it was warm enough for me to use my rain jacket for that purpose once more.
My socks and shoes were soon soaked in the puddles, but I did get a couple cool views here and there when things opened up once in a while. The rain continued on and off, making the various mosses that surrounded the trail glow vibrant green.
When I entered a pine forest, I could have sworn I was in the 100 Mile Wilderness. The resemblance to my second day in when it rained like crazy was uncanny. The last couple miles felt like they dragged on, as I made my way through a gloomy forest so thick with foliage it felt like nighttime already.
Finally I made it to the shelter at 6:30, right around sunset, though there was still no sun to speak of. Painkles and Milky Moo were there, as well as Painkles’ mom, Shady Tree, who I learned was thru hiking as well. Lentil and Looseleaf had gone one shelter further to get to Gatlinburg the next day to resupply.
Happy, Flamingo (a flip flopper I hadn’t met yet), Spice, and Mosey all arrived after dark, night hiking in. They tented nearby, but I was set up in the shelter with the others and a few section hikers as well. It had been a wonderful, eventful day, and I was very happy that all 6,700 feet of ascent was accomplished and behind me.