Things That Make My Heart Sing

I didn't want to leave the last post as the leading post for very long, because it's a bit of a bummer, and honestly, only represents about 0.00001 % of my time hiking.  So instead I've written a list of some of the things that have invigorating me, bringing me joy, and making me feel whole as of late.

1.  Beautiful scenery.  My first two days in the Smoky Mountains were tough- the weather was hot and humid (those of you who know me best know that this is not the type of weather that I function best in), the terrain was challenging, I was doing more miles than I was used to (14 - 16 miles per day), and there were gnats.  However, the stretch between Newfound Gap and Davenport Gap was some of the most beautiful hiking that I've ever done.  A big portion of the Smoky Mountains is ridge line hiking- you weave in and out of Tennessee and North Carolina, with the ground falling away from either side of you.  Periodically you go down into a gap, where the forest floor is carpeted with tiny little white flowers with purple and pink centers, and a hush descends on everything, making you feel more alone, and serene, and peaceful than ever before.  The Smoky Mountains are surreal, wild, and wonderful.

Ridgeline hiking.

I think I stopped about five million times to take in the view

during the hike from Newfound Gap to Davenport Gap.  The

views stretched for miles and miles and miles.

Charlie's Bunion was by far one of the neatest little rocky outcrops

in the Smokys.  Also, it's a great spot for posing in a stupid manner

with one's hiking poles. 

The mountains just go on and on and on....

2.  Letters from home.  So I've been getting a lot of mail from all of you.  It's been wonderful to hear what you've been up to, and I love it that instead of journaling my activities at the end of each day, that I can just write a letter to someone I love, instead.  I've been saving the letters I've received, and only opening them at the end (or, sometimes in the middle) of tough days.  I just mailed my first package of letters home, and was surprised to find that the weight of love is about a half a pound.  Thank you.

3.  Lazy Mornings.  The day after my friends showed up it started to rain early in the morning, before any of us had left the shelter.  The temperature dropped, and, because we only had about 10 miles to do (all of which was downhill), none of us moved.  Instead, we hung out in the shelter for the morning, listening to the rain pound on the tin roof, warmed by a fire in the fire place, slowly but surely eating our way through our food bags.  Not being rushed, and not having far to go was lovely.  (Also lovely: watching Eats geniusly toast a bagel on a brick next to the fire place, before smothering one half with cream cheese and the other with cheddar cheese.  It would have been still lovelier if he had shared....)

Getting ready to brave the rain.

4.  Sunset and Sunrise at Max Patch.  Okay, everything about Max Patch, minus the lack of privies.  Max Patch is a grassy bald that has a 360 degree view from the summit.  I camped up there with Eats, Jetpack, Who Knows, Mr. Black, and Velvet a couple of days ago, and it was just surreal.  To be up that high, camped on soft grass, completely surrounded by mountains was absolutely wonderful.  (In writing this blog, I'm starting to realize that I need a few new adjectives- awesome, wonderful, beautiful... I'm using these words far too much.)  (Small aside: it's impossible to camp on a grassy bald in a hammock.  For the record, I did try, but... no.  Thanks, Jetpack and Eats, for letting me squeeze in your tent with you, because it would have been too damn cold to cowboy camp out on my own.)

 

Photos don't do this place justice.

About  5 minutes past sunrise.

Who Knows, Jetpack, and Eats.  Mr. Black is still in his tent. 
(I don't think he's much of a morning person.)

 

Sunset.

5.  Not having the right words to describe this experience.  I keep struggling to come up with secular words to describe how I feel about participating in this adventure, but the word I keep coming back to is blessed.

6.  Trail magic, and learning to say 'yes.'  On my mad dash away from the creepy guy at Clingman's Dome, I came across a fantastic couple named Mountain Mama and Godspeed, who were giving out trail magic at Newfound Gap (if you guys are reading this, thanks again for everything!).  They pressed a hot dog into my hands, along with soda and a banana, told me to tell my mom and dad that I'm looking good, and gave me a card with their phone number on it, so that if I ran into any trouble in the next hundred miles I'd have someone to call.  It floored me.

Mountain Mama and Godspeed.

Later on I was resting by the AT sign catching up on twitter, when a woman approached me and asked me if I was okay.  When I told her that I was 'just fine, thank you, ma'am' she asked me if she could make me a sandwich.  Having partaken in trail magic twice in that day, I turned her down, even after she insisted that she could make me a sandwich for the road. 

I've been talking a lot with the folks I've been traveling with about how hard it is to say yes, again and again, when people offer kind things to you.  I'm not sure if it's a New England thing or what, but the amount of support and help and kindness out here is amazing, and makes me continue to believe that (creepy guys aside) the world is full of the best kind of people.  I feel honored to be able to meet some of them as I travel along the trail, and I'm looking forward to paying it forward when I return from this journey.

6a: Hot dogs.  You all know that I have some very funny rules about what meat I'll eat and what meat I won't.  On the AT I've decided to ask fewer questions about the food that is given to me by trail angels, and instead just be grateful for the energy and food.  Consequently, I didn't think twice when the hot dog was put into my hands, and instead devoured it (and it tasted SO GOOD).  The energy I got from the hot dog propelled me up the mountain: I practically ran all the way to Icewater Spring Shelter.  You meat eaters may be onto something here....

7.  Small towns with railroad stations and good music.  Last night I went to Iron Horse Station for a drink and some music.  I forget the band's name, but the music they were playing was traditional folk/bluegrass music, and was just lovely.  As they played, the rain poured down outside, a train passed by the in background blowing a long, low whistle, and I sipped my (excellent and local) beer, feeling thankful for the moment and wishing I could stay in Hot Springs for a long, long time.  (Confidential to Surjeet: Your prediction may be partially right.  Damn you, bluegrass, and your tugging at my heartstrings!)

Iron Horse Station.  It's a bar, and a hotel, and

a cafe, and a fantastically funky art scene, all rolled up

into one. 

 8.  Hearing from all of you.  I can't tell you how much I love it when you comment on my blog or on my facebook page.  Knowing that you are sharing this adventure with me is fantastic. Again, thank you.

I have a lot more that I would like to share, but I hear that there is a hiker ice-cream eating contest coming up.  I'm off to enjoy the beautiful day in Hot Springs, North Carolina.