I started hiking on March 8th. My dad drove me from Atlanta up to the NOC.
During that first weekend, I learned a couple things. My pack was WAY too heavy (so I sent a lot of stuff back). Hammocking is cold as shit unless you do it properly. Hikers are amazing people with amazing stories, and a kind word for everyone. And your ass will wake up with the sun, no matter what your normal sleeping schedule is like.
I met a few really awesome people that first night on the trail. I ran into them again at the Fontana Dam shelter. My hike up to Fontana Dam that first week was the longest I had done, clocking in at 12.7 miles. About halfway up, I had to just stop and sit down out of sheer frustration. The inclines were hell, my body wasn't happy with all this new activity, I was hot and sunburned and exhausted.
A man that lives in Fontana and runs shuttles for hikers was out on a day hike, and he came across me sitting on a rock, halfway to the summit, and very upset. We got to chatting. I told him about my frustration, and my uncertainty as to whether going on a long hike was a good idea (or if I could even accomplish the rest of that day's hike, much less weeks). We talked about his hiking eperience, and how conversations always turned to food on the trail. I said all I wanted was a cold Coke.
The conversation calmed me down fairly quickly. He gave me the card for his shuttle company, handed me an apple (which, at that moment, was the most delicious thing I had ever eaten in the history of my life), and gave me some encouragement before heading up the mountain.
Then one of the older men I met on my first night, RedLeg, came up the hill. He and I hiked together for the rest of the day. He told me about how he thinks he's one of the slowest hikers on the trail. He said I shouldn't push myself to the point of being frustrated. The trail isn't going anywhere. The mountains aren't going anywhere. And getting upset or sad or discouraged was the exact opposite of what a trip like this is supposed to make you feel. He joked about "resting steps", where he tries to take the smallest, slowest steps possible to catch his breath.
The approach to Fontana had a road crossing about 2 miles before you hit the shelter. RedLeg's son met us there because the two of them were going to go out to dinner that evening. On the steps leading down to the road, there was a 20 oz of Coke, with a note taped to it that just said, "Locke". It made the last 2 miles so much easier, just because it was the sweetest gesture, as well as my first experience with Trail Magic.
We all got to Fontana Dam, and there were a few people I had already met hanging out. One thing that's awesome about the Fontana Dam shelter is that it has a bathroom with a hot shower. That's why they call it The Hilton. And that shower was amazing.
I did laundry, we all talked and ate dinner, and everyone went to sleep.
The next day was lovely. I hung up all my clothes, got some things in town, and did some reading. A good amount of hikers showed up that afternoon, as did Fresh Grounds.
Fresh Grounds slackpacks up the trail every year, running the Leapfrog Cafe out of his car. He brings a portable stove, and all kinds of food and coffee and sodas and everything. He brought some chicken, potato salad, fresh rolls, and more soda and gatorade than anyone could consume. It was an amazing evening.
We got a great group, and made a huge fire that night. The wind from the storm knocked down half of a tree, so no one had to go looking for firewood. Then another Trail Angel showed up, with fried chicken and fruits and a cheesecake.
I ate so much that night I thought I was going to explode.
After two nights at Fontana, I was finally ready to attempt the snow-covered smokys.
I fucking hate the smokys.
More later. I'm off to bed.
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