My first day post thru hike was intensely perfect. The type of day I will relive in my memory forever, wishing I could endlessly exist in that space of blissed out freedom.
The world was suddenly our oyster, with no miles to hike, nowhere to be, and the stunning victory of our success high on our shoulders. Lentil, Looseleaf, and I congregated in the guesthouse on Bruce Leaf’s property, with Orb the kitty running around on little white paws, or else purring on his previously absent mother’s lap, reunited at last.
After a lazy, relaxing morning we decided to, what else, go for a hike. Our very first day hike post trail. The urge to move was irresistible, the desire to stay active quickly heeded. Lentil drove us a short way over to Tallulah Gorge State Park in Bruce Leaf’s truck, housing what was boasted to be one of the Seven Natural Wonders of Georgia.
The gorge is two miles long and close to 1,000 feet deep, with a dammed lake on the other side and six waterfalls forming the Tallulah Falls. According to the park website, “On a typical day, the water flow through the gorge is 35–40 CFS (cubic feet per second). During aesthetic releases, the flow is 200 CFS, and during whitewater releases, the flow is 500 CFS on Saturday and 700 CFS on Sunday. Climbing and hiking down in to the gorge are not allowed on these dates.”
We just so happened to be visiting the gorge on the Sunday of a whitewater release, an event that only happens a handful of weekends per year. In fact, the whitewater release that had been scheduled for the weekend prior had been cancelled due to increased rainfall from Hurricane Nicole, so the timing of our visit had been unexpectedly lucky.
We first explored near the 63 acre lake itself, watching water thunder through a middle section of the dam, taking it in from the sidewalk of a highway bridge spanning overhead. It was everything I had been hoping to see when we’d hiked through Fontana Dam, and I could have easily stood there for hours watching the mesmerizing site. Too soon we crossed back under the bridge to make our way over to the gorge, admiring the dam from a side view.
After stopping at a couple of the overlooks to the gorge, we realized Tallulah 1882, the tea house across the road we’d been planning on stopping at closed in just over an hour. Deciding to go there first then return to the park, we found a trampled path through undergrowth leading back to Route 23, a busy four-lane highway with a turning lane in the middle.
Looseleaf was the boldest of us, sprinting across all five lanes with little preamble. Lentil and I ran across next after some hesitation, and when a couple cars came zooming around the corner, I put on a burst of speed, while Lentil stopped in the turning lane.
Looseleaf and I watched anxiously as she stood on the spot, a car blowing its horn on the way by, as we waited for her to cross the next couple lanes. Finally we all stood on the other side of the road, laughing about our little misadventure. We’d crossed so many busy roads and highways on our hike that it just felt more or less normal to do something so risky.
Tallulah 1882 was an absolutely marvelous shop, full of delightful decor, historical roots evident in the architecture and antique furnishings, and a lovely staff ready to assist with recommendations from their vast tea and coffee menu. There were several other patrons there when we arrived in the warm shop, but we did not have to wait long to order, scanning the menu and deliberating while we stood in line.
I bought a Copper Mountain tea, made of oolong, ashwagandha root, sweetened vanilla syrup, and steamed milk, a guava puff, and an intricately patterned bird sticker that I couldn’t resist for my Nalgene. We sat to wait for our food at a window bar, and my eyes were drawn immediately to a “love letter station” nearby.
Similar to a “Take a penny, leave a penny” concept, it featured blank sheets of paper and pens for individuals to write their own anonymous love letters to leave for others, as well as letters left to be chosen and taken to a new home.
My eyes were immediately drawn to a letter that was propped up next to a window, dozens of other letters scattered around. The letter I chose told me to “Always seek those who allow you to breathe — and grow, for they will always help to heal your soul!”
It resonated with me greatly, because I have had similar realizations in the past that it’s very important to spend time with the people that I am most comfortable around and can be authentic and genuine with. I wrote out my own letter and exchanged it with the one I found, taking a seat at the bar with the other two. It wasn’t until the evening that I read the back of the card as well, finding out the person who wrote it turned 62 on the day I finished my thru hike. Talk about synchronicity.
I picked up a book by Henrietta Lovell sitting there called Infused: Adventures in Tea. Lovell is the founder of the Rare Tea Company, and is known worldwide as the Rare Tea Lady. She works with chefs and sommeliers to pair tea with food, supplying loose leaf tea directly from farmers and working with such names as Gordon Ramsey and Claridge’s Hotel, among many others.
I leafed through the book, finding a chapter I really enjoyed about Lovell’s experience battling cancer, and finding solace in tea. It seemed like quite a good memoir, so I shared it with Looseleaf as well, who is, of course, an avid tea junkie. Between hiking with him and Iroh, I felt I was beginning to gain a new appreciation for tea. To my delight the tea I’d ordered was perfectly delicious, and I was looking forward to the soothing and medicinal effects of the ashwaganda. The guava puff was also fantastic, all caramelized sugar and crunchy pastry on top of a delicious cheese and fruit filling.
In the meantime, I also leafed through Secrets of a Devon Wood: My Nature Journal, beautifully illustrated by Jo Brown, pointing out mushrooms and fauna I recognized from the trail to Lentil. I then found a book by Rupi Kaur when I was returning my dishes, poetry being another thing I had paid little attention to prior to my hike this year and time with Iroh.
We realized at one point that it was a few minutes after 3PM, and hurried to pack up and exit the tea shop, which was now closed. We’d been having such a good time there that the time had flown by, and we returned to the road feeling renewed and ready to finish our hike. This time we were able to find a break in the cars big enough that the three of us ran across together, glad the highway crossing was behind us.
Continuing under a pergola, we were informed by staff at the gorge that the stairs were open again after the lucky kayakers that had obtained tickets for the whitewater weekend had finished launching, but we were reminded that it was unsafe to hike down to the gorge itself, so we could climb down no further than the bridge. We acknowledged the rule, and began making our way down more steel and wooden stairs, an almost exact replica of the ones we had traversed a day before descending Amicalola Falls.
There were many people on these stairs, as well, and we stopped for a couple minutes on the suspension bridge showing a closer view of the rushing water down below, Looseleaf pointing out where kayakers would enter down the river where it was a bit safer. It was a powerful sight watching the rushing water cascade mightily underneath us.
Soon it was time to ascend the stairs, an experience we didn’t get to have at Amicalola. Lentil led the way, passing many slower day hikers on the left, while Looseleaf and I jogged up the stairs behind her. Toward the top, I remembered how I’d taken a nice fall on the stone stairs at Bruce Leaf’s that morning, joking with Looseleaf that I was lost without my poles. That memory fresh in my mind, I slowed down and followed a family up the last flight to one of the overlooks, not wanting to embarrass myself by doing it again in front of so many people. It had been a lot funnier when it was just Looseleaf who saw me eat it.
Greenery glowed in the warm late afternoon sunshine, contrasting nicely with the falls in the shadow of the gorge in the background. We walked over beautiful, soft faux asphalt that I recognized from the day before as well. Lentil, Looseleaf, and I stopped at a couple more overlooks that did not show as much as the earlier ones, and ended up back at the truck around 3:45.
We ran a couple errands, and stopped at a roadside stand to get a couple bags of boiled peanuts, which Lentil and I had never tried before, but was a childhood favorite of Looseleaf’s. The smell was a little strange to me, but the vinegary, salty taste and edamame like quality of the peanuts I found very interesting, indulging in both the cajun and plain varieties as we drove back to the house.
The rest of the evening was spent watching Christmas with the Kranks before I returned to the main house to relax before bed. Looseleaf had lent me a beautiful book called Psalm of the Wild-Built, another book with a tea theme, this one a fictional piece by Becky Chambers. It was a very sweet story, and before long I was cuddled up with John Prine, Bruce’s cat, drifting off quickly and sleeping deeply.
Elberton & Asheville
The next day, we packed up early and moved out of the Clayton house, when Bruce Leaf was nice enough to drive us to Elberton on his way to work. Elberton was the site of Looseleaf’s childhood home, and the former location of the Georgia Guidestones, a granite monument that had stood for 42 years, until 2022.
I remembered the Meandering Minstrel telling Bard, Iroh, and I about the Georgia Guidestones in great detail as we were camped out behind the Monterey Service Station in Northern Virginia. It was quite surprising, then, that I ended up visiting the town a few months later, which had nothing to do with the trail save for befriending Looseleaf and being invited to accompany him and Lentil there.
After unpacking the truck into Looseleaf’s basement bedroom, we gathered outside with the family mechanics who’d come by to take a look at Lentil’s Prius. It seemed the battery had died during her hike and now needed to be replaced. As they were inspecting the battery, I noticed to my delight that there were flowers on a bush near me. In fact, when I looked up and around the property, it appeared I had stepped back into summertime.
Everything was so green like nothing I’d seen in months. We were now at lower elevation and further south, standing in a day of bright sunshine and warmth, green grass and leaves, bamboo growing freely, and even persimmons hanging fresh on a tree in the front yard. It was heavenly.
Lentil and Looseleaf led me on a walk past a nearby park and a couple streets over to where Looseleaf’s mom, Dee, has a house in town as well. She kindly let us use her SUV to drive to Hartwell, where NAPA had the battery in stock that Lentil needed for her car. It was a half hour drive, which Lentil asked me to do if I didn’t mind, which I certainly was happy to help with, glad I could give back in some way.
After we returned and the battery was replaced, we were glad to see Lentil’s car was right back in working order. We had lunch with Dee, who cooked up black bean burgers and vegan hot dogs leftover from the party, and later on we also visited with a couple more of Looseleaf’s family members back at the house we were staying in. Looseleaf kindly treated us to dinner out at a local Mexican restaurant and before bed we watched one more Christmas movie: Tokyo Godfathers, a favorite of Looseleaf’s.
The following day was our last together, and we all were feeling a bit bummed that our time was over for the moment. The three of us were cognizant that once we parted ways, the end of the trail would seem a lot more real. I had the solace that I would still be with hikers for a few more days, and they had each other, but it was bittersweet for sure.
We had one more adventure to enjoy, however, as I drove us in Lentil’s car a couple hours north to Asheville, North Carolina. A city often touted as the “Portland of the South”, Asheville is well known for being a liberal, artsy mecca for hippie types like us. None of us had been before and we were all excited to make the trip.
We stopped at a completely vegan restaurant for lunch called Rosetta’s Kitchen & The Buchi Bar where I had a Reuben made of tempeh and a slice of peanut butter cheesecake for dessert. The vibe was decidedly trendy and community based, though I found Asheville was much more expensive than anywhere else I’d seen down south.
Our next move was to Dobra Tea a few doors down, my first eastern tea room. I wanted to try bubble tea, which I’d never had before, while Looseleaf ordered a hot tea and Lentil got an herbal. We kicked off our shoes and sat on pillows at a low table, while I enjoyed the novelty of something the other two had experienced already.
The bubble tea was quite interesting and tasty, the one I ordered being a variety of white tea with blue spirulina powder. The tea was served iced with a very wide metal straw, as the tapioca pearls were rather large and a bit chewier than I’d imagined. It was great fun sitting with the others drinking our tea, watching people around us, and romanticizing aloud the day I’d be a successful writer sitting and working in a tea shop.
Just across the road we spotted Downtown Books & News, a used bookstore that had caught my eye. I’d finished Hostage and wanted to have a new book to read on the hours long train or bus ride when I finally headed back north.
I was a bit overwhelmed with the sheer volume of books there and the fact I couldn’t find much of what I’d had in mind to buy, in addition to higher prices than I usually could find pre owned books for. Looseleaf pointed out the $1 section to me, and a book in it that was one of his dad’s favorites, The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay. I figured that was my decision made for me after browsing some more, and handed over a $1 bill that was the only actual cash I had sitting in my wallet. No tax apparently.
We walked a few minutes over to the Moogseum, a museum dedicated to Bob Moog, an American engineer, electronic music pioneer, and inventor of the first commercial synthesizer. For those like me who aren’t familiar with synthesizers, they are electronic music instruments that generate audio signals. A keyboard is attached to a panel with dozens of knobs and areas to plug in cables in order to generate various sounds using wave forms.
This was Looseleaf’s pick for the day, and though I knew absolutely nothing about synthesizers, I have a deep sense of curiosity and am always happy to explore new things. The museum was very small, but had interactive setups where we could learn how to use synthesizers through video instruction on working models. It was very complicated to me, as I have no real musical talent that I am aware of, but found it deeply interesting what the instrument was and how complex creating the sounds was.
We spent quite a while there, and I particularly enjoyed experimenting with musical sounds and reading a wall display about how Bob and his wife had built their own house in the woods of North Carolina. I was quite enjoying this state, including the warmer weather, the wonderful mountains we’d hiked through, and the fact that the state zip code is 828 – the number I always associate with Frankie.
We also made our way into a little eclectic gift shop that reminded me of Faces in Northampton, with clothing, novelty gifts, stickers, jewelry, and plenty of other odds and ends. A gem shop next door had a wide variety of minerals (Marie) and fossils on display, including the skull of a T-Rex I could personally own for only $3,000.
Finally, we drove to an art supply store on the outskirts of town for Lentil to get a couple things for the AT scrapbook she was going to put together for Looseleaf as a Christmas gift. It was rather impressive that we’d spent half a day in Asheville and barely scratched the surface of the city in two blocks and one corner. (I apologize for my lack of pictures, but I didn’t know I’d feel inspired to write about my post hike adventures so soon!)
Darkness was falling around us as we got in the car once more and I drove us 40 more minutes north to Erwin, Tennessee, where Miss Janet greeted us warmly and Dexter was overjoyed for new friends. We also met Traveling Man, a hiker friend of Miss Janet’s who’d been on and around the trail since 2016 and was staying to help with Hiker Thanksgiving.
Lentil and Looseleaf visited with Miss J for a bit before heading back on the long trip home. I gave them both big hugs, thanking them several times for everything they’d done for me. They’d hosted me multiple nights, bought my dinner the day before, drove me to Erwin and refused gas money, but all around were just really kind and good friends to me during and after our hike. When we’d met so briefly in Duncannon at the beginning of our hikes, I think we all knew we’d be close friends, though it seemed amazing we hadn’t seen each other again until Damascus but had ended up finishing our hikes together and enjoying this time afterward.
It felt like a bit of trail karma honestly, because Pockets and I had hosted our friend One Hit and her dog, Lila, for a couple days post trail in 2015. Now I was the one lucky enough to be treated this time around. We all agreed it had been really good for us to spend time together after the hike, and I could tell they sincerely had been glad to have me, which meant a lot.
I hadn’t had as social of an experience going south as I had traveling north on trail, and I certainly didn’t have multiple trail families that I traveled long distances with. I’d essentially only had one hiking partner and one trail family on the second half when I wasn’t solo, but it had meant a lot to end with the trail family I did, among my fellow flip floppers who shared an understanding with me of what that type of hike entailed and meant.
My favorite of Miss Janet’s two spare rooms was available just waiting for me, and I got settled in quickly. It was hard to believe I’d just been there about a month ago, feeling like so much had happened between then and now. I sprawled out in the king sized bed and was asleep quite quickly, ready in the morning to get to work in the kitchen, eager to be a part of the long-standing trail tradition that was Hiker Thanksgiving.