Tenting in a downpour at Whitley Gap Shelter
All the days on the trail are hard, at least if you’re old and fat and out of shape. Sometimes it’s just exhausting hard. Sometimes it’s painful hard. But the last three days have been fabulous.
Then came today.
This day has been a metric buttload of horrible from minute one. I actually think it started last night with the scrambling for shelter. I didn’t have time to eat and hang the bear bag, so I just glomped a Cliff bar. This morning I woke up late to a pea-soup fog driven by cold winds that were gusting up to 40 mph. That persisted all freaking day. That’s tough hiking. Visibility was no more than 20 feet, and the mountains were Sassafrassian.
I losf the trail once with a section hiker named Cousin Vinny, and I took my first spill down a muddy embankment. It was long, but it was very nearly vertical. Getting up, I jerked something in my hip. My rainpants tore from ankle to knee.
Now I’m in my tent while fhe rain outside pounds. Even fhough this lovely shelter is a mile off the trail, there are a dozen or so thrus here. The trail was practically empty today—the smart ones took a zero at Neels.
Does this make me want to quit? NO WAY! But that nero at Hiawassee is looking better and better.
BTW… no cell service anywhere today. I’ll probaby end up uploading noirnal entries only every few days, from town. I usually can see comments, though—just can’t respond from roaming.