Mileage: Mile marker -8.8 to 2.8
Starting Spot: Amicalola Falls State Park, Georgia
Ending Spot: Stover Creek Shelter, Georgia
Slept in: 2nd floor of the shelter in a sleeping bag
Left real early in a slightly hungover state to drive the 3.5 hours from Asheville, NC to Amicalola Falls State Park in Georgia with my childhood best friend Rachael and her dog Roofus. I hadn’t been able to really sleep the past few nights from excitement and was super pumped up to start hiking. We stopped at some backwoods gear shops along the way including my favorite “Rebels Pantry” just over the Georgia border. I really wanted some Appalachian moonshiner gear but couldn’t justify the extra weight! Since I added a few last minute food items to my bag my starting pack weight went up to 35lb (dang peanut butter jar!) which I recorded in the AT register at the park. And with that, I started hiking through the archway up to the Appalachian Trail. I was the 400th Northbound thru-hiker this year!!
Rachael and Roofus hiked with me for about an hour up Amicalola Falls to start me off. I’m so appreciative of them both! The quad-burning climb up the stairs to the waterfalls was a bit humbling and we had to carry Rachael’s 80 lb dog across the metal grate bridge over the falls when he looked down and started shaking. Her final words as I left were, “May the odds be ever in your favor.” I’m hiking for 2,200 miles, not fighting in the Hunger Games child! But I have to admit it was pretty intense to be sent off like that anyways – I guess with the 10% completion rate of finishing a thru-hike of the AT I would need a little luck on my side to get to Katahdin.
I hiked 8.8 miles up to the top of the Springer Mountain in about 4-5 hours and saw tons of salamanders and day hikers. I met a very friendly guy named Hawk who was training for his thru-hike in a couple weeks and I joked with him that he’s already almost to the AT, why wait 2 weeks? When I reached the the top of the approach trail, the blustery winds nearly knocked me over. Even though it was later in the day, I thought that there would be more people at the summit of Springer Mountain but it was just myself and the late winter wind. Springer was a little less than exhilarating with minimal views and a wooded summit. I saw my first white blaze and hiked to the first shelter .2 miles from Springer where I thought I might stop for the evening. With the wind knocking the privy door and shelter around, the shelter was empty and kind of eerie so I moved on. I had made a pact with myself that whenever I got a weird feeling about being somewhere, I move on. Stover Creek Shelter was only 2.6 miles from Springer Mountain Shelter and I still had a couple hours of daylight left.
As I’m hiking through North Georgia, I got to thinking about my friend Ben who grew up near the AT trailhead. He said the woods out there are kind of sketchy with all sorts of moonshiners and crackheads. It’s always comforting advice to hear, “When you get off Springer Mountain, run like hell til you get out of Georgia!” But that’s all I could think of as I approached a roadside parking lot next to the AT where a couple car windows had been smashed in and covered with trash bags. I quickened my pace in the late afternoon light when all of a sudden I started hearing gunfire. I thought I did my research before I left and it wasn’t quite hunting season yet so I thought it was a little odd… All of a sudden the single shots turned into straight up machine gun fire right over the hill from me. Even though I had my blaze orange coat on, all I could think was that some hill folk got into a bad batch of shine and were going straight up ‘Nam on the thru-hiker population. I was by then run-jogging through the woods and finally the automatic fire ceased. I kept up my pace and cruised into the Stover Creek Shelter where I was greeted by 20+ thru-hikers ranging from late teen girls and their dads to a group of chatty guys in their late 60’s thru-hiking again with each other. I snagged a spot on the 2nd floor of the shelter with my sleeping bag as to avoid having to attempt the disaster of setting up my tent for the first time in front of everyone. After the third try, I managed to light my Friskies cat food can alcohol stove and successfully warmed up some homemade dehydrated hiker chili while sharing some laughs with the thru-hikers.
I wasn’t laughing later that night when the temperatures dropped into the low 20’s and I came to understand the difference between the 10 degree “lower limit” that was advertised for my sleeping bag and the actual “comfort limit” of a sleeping bag. Having opted for the low budget and low “R-value” (essentially insulation rating) of my 8-year-old crappy flat eggshell sleeping pad, I was feeling the effects of the cold a bit sooner than anticipated. I closed my eyes and accepted the fact that I would probably shiver my way to sleep between strangers that night. As I dozed off, I silently prayed that on this trip I wouldn’t do anything on the level of stupidity as the overly confident girl I had just met who had only brought a headband on her thru-hike because “…a winter hat would mess up my hairstyle.” Tell that to the 70% of your body heat leaving your head chica.
Editor’s note: I originally made the mistake of posting this entry about crackheads, car break-ins and gunfire and then not posting another entry for an entire week. I apologize for causing worry and it was not an intentional act of doing or in any way to dramatize the whole event. I still get berated about this incident of going off the grid at the most inopportune moment at family gatherings. My bad.
Last minute food/fuel stop on the way down to Springer Mountain.
Me with my crazy dreadlocks (thanks Emma and Erica for your patience) and Roofus excited to take my first of 5+million steps on the AT.
Look at how huge my pack was at the beginning!
You could sharpen knives on your calves after hiking up these stairs on the AT approach trail.
Rachael, Roofus and I taking a most opportune picture break to catch our breath while using the excuse of admiring the waterfalls.
Black salamander hanging out on the approach trail.
I still can’t believe how much crap I carried with me when I first started that I didn’t need.
AT plaque at the registration center at Amicalola Falls HQ.
I was one excited puppy to see these less than spectacular views of Springer Mountain. But they say if you wanted views, don’t hike the Appalachian Trail aka the Green Tunnel.
Starting the first of my 14 states up the spine of the Appalachian Mountains.
My first white blaze – I can’t even begin to imagine how many white blazes are on the entire AT. REI estimates that there are 165,000 white blazes and the path is so well marked that it’s very rare for a thru-hiker to even carry a map (myself included in the “No maps” club).