Did a very short one today to take a shot at leg, quad, and whole body healing, etc. by staying in a hostel at the other end. . .. beautiful streams and rivers are to be found everywhere by the way. The four miles went quick and I’m getting to finally, and with great satisfaction, settle into the long hours of solitude that are starting to be the norm during the trekking legs . . . (For the first couple of days I was meeting people constantly and it’s starting to thin out a little bit. It’s fun though: I’ve met people from the Netherlands, Ireland, Germany, Finland, many US States, and the population ‘on the Trail’ seems to be about 50% international and about 30% female. And yes, the ‘internationals’ have all flown directly to Georgia for this purpose of the AT!) Anyway, I like the long hours ofsolitude and am glad I’m getting them. I got to a road and hitchhiked to the hostel and got a ride on my first try despite my gigantic dirty wet backpack. My review of Wolf Pen Gap hostel: Overall, it looks like it hasn’t been cleaned since the Bronze Age. And the toilet looks like it lost a serious battle with a shit-gun. Got a few resupply food items, ate a pizza, took a shower, and slept a lot. Leg pain still making me unsure as to whether I have injured muscle or just severely overworked muscle. Hope it’s ‘healable’.
Came up and over Springer Mountain and stopped at the top to see the even more iconic plaques at the peak of Springer Mountain (the historic and real start point of the venture- I’ll explain when I get back!) Sustained ice rain began shortly after I left Springer. But, though my legs/quads were on fire, I marionetted onwards. Drinking tons of water. With rain coming late afternoon I bailed out into Hawk Mountain campsite versus Shelter. Got a good spot, set up in time for the rain and was in the sleeping bag as it got dark when the torrents began. Hellfire storm, with protracted lightning flashes, thunder, sudden hail, and, I kid you not- machine gun fire. So, as I’m laying there, another hiker walked by and saw my light on in my tent and asked over if the machine gun fire worried me. Nope. ” Why, do you know what it is?” Yep. “What?” It is U.S. Army Ranger School, Mountaineering Phase, in progress this fine evening. You see, 35 years ago, to this month, I was myself a student at this very school, training in this very stretch of the Chatahootchee National Forest, and they still train right here and you just heard a Raid in progress. The kid was amazed, and stood outside my tent asking me all about it for awhile. We had a good laugh and he ambled on. Fitful night of sleep due to the cold (still haven’t caved in to getting a ‘puffy’ jacket) and my legs adjusting. In the morning as I went downhill to get water for the day’s hike, I passed this same guy’s tent and we talked in the morning light for awhile. His name is Nate and he is an Outward Bound Instructor for the Everglades portion. Of course I pumped him all about that course and what he does there -it was fascinating, and he wanted to know more about my Army training, and we talked all about the AT as well. Then I was off . . .
Woke up groggy, spent all morning fussing with my ‘stuff’ and finally marched proudly to the start point by mid-late morning. AT Thru-hiking Headquarters! I got a nice little briefing from the Appalachian Trail Conservancy orientation Guide, got registered for the hike, had my pack weighed (42-pounds [heavier than the average by about 9 pounds]), and then it was time for the iconic picture of me standing under the start point stone arch. Yes! This is it! While the Guide was taking my picture, a small crowd was gathered and it surfaced, explained by the Guide, what I was about to do. At the moment, there were no other Thru-Hikers kicking off, so I was the occasion. Some astonished gasps. What? Right from here- all the way to Maine?! And you’re starting right this second? More hoots of encouragement, a fat happy round of polite golf applause, and then I strode off down the trail, giving a brave little salute to the crowd.
Thirty yards later, something didn’t feel right and I realized I had left my trekking poles at the registration station. Jesus H. Christ. I spun around and started walking back and immediately found myself swimming against a current of people on this narrow trail. I was, to my horror, fighting through the very crowd of people who had sent me off! (They had started their little individual day-hikes right after I left and were right behind me). “Hey, where are you going? Maine is that way!” “Are you tired already?” “Don’t give up yet!”
Ahem. Ummm… Errr…. So, I got my trekking poles, walked back through the stone arch, and proceeded. Within a mile, I was walking up the stairs that zig-zag vertically to the top of Amicalola Falls, the highest waterfall east of the Mississippi. There are 604 of these steps. Did I mention the 42 pound pack? Did I mention that my training plan for the 6 weeks prior to this venture was to eat great meals, eat as much ice-cream as possible, not exercise, watch movies and sleep with a hot blonde every night? No? Well, when I got to the top, my quads were blasted and I was barely functioning as a human, let-alone a rugged Thru-Hiker. I believed I had a tear in my right quad, and for the next many miles I concocted ways to spin the story more eloquently to the folks at home about why I failed. I talked myself out of stopping at a tent site a mere 2.2 miles from the stone arch and limped on like a shopping cart with a bad wheel to Black Gap shelter, about 6 miles from the start. I was absolutely certain that after the night’s sleep I would not be able to proceed. I met a nice German couple at this shelter who informed me that I could have stayed in a shelter the night before instead of under that picnic bench; the shelter was near the picnic area, was fully enclosed, and was reserved specifically for Thru-Hikers who showed up the night before. They had themselves stayed there and said it was quite comfortable. I massaged my quads all night and kept getting up to piss, having pounded water for 7 straight hours. And it was cold.
So.
Here is a picture of me under the stone arch. (Note that I’m not holding trekking poles.)
I planned the trip to commence on the day I received a 6-month coin (Chip) from my Gloucester Early Bird Meeting of AA (great people and a great daily morning meeting) and Keith presented me with this 6-month coin as an accomplishment. During his presentation to me in front of a crowd of about 60 people, he noted that “Kevin’s had a pretty adventurous life and I thought nothing Kevin could do would surprise me at this point, but whenever he quit drinking …” Everybody laughed heartily.
Memory was at the meeting as well and drove me directly to the airport from the meeting. It was a tough goodbye, especially because of how amazing of a woman she is and all the support she’s given me since I met her. Even more amazing, she’s attempting to indulge this bucket-list effort of mine. Most of my family, and all sane people, are telling her to move on, but, hey- she’s giving it a shot. I love that gal.
Flight to Atlanta. Uber to an REI to get a fuel canister for my backpacking stove, Uber to get to the famous Amicalola Falls State Park, Georgia– start point for the Appalachian Trail. (AT). I looked around a little bit at the State Park and finally settled on sleeping under a picnic bench within sight of the start point. I slept on cement and froze. Didn’t sleep much.
Penultimate 
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