Cosby Knob Shelter to Standing Bear Farm

Appalachian Trail, 10.4 miles

It rained all night, but at least the rain noise covered up the cacophony of snoring from all those men. We were up, fed, packed, and hiking out a little before 7, a new record for us. It wasn't a moment too soon. That was probably the most unpleasant shelter experience I've ever had. I will confess to taking a little bit of guilty pleasure in making a small ruckus this morning as we packed up. I didn't feel at all bad that we might be disturbing the sleep of the steak-eating snorers. Way I saw it, it was paybacks for the previous 10 hours.

By 8 it started clearing up and turned into a really beautiful day -- a great way to end a great week. The sun streaming in through the trees was such a beautiful sight. It felt and looked like we were walking through a rainforest, only without the muggy heat.

Summitting Mt. Cammerer this morning was a little bittersweet, as it was the last big climb we'd experience in Great Smoky Mountain National Park. Here's a really great view from the side of that mountain -- aren't those clouds amazing?


We took the remaining downhill miles pretty quickly, enjoying the mountain laurel blooming along the way, and lunching at Davenport Gap Shelter. After that it was only one more mile till we finished the park, and four miles to our car. Here we are at Davenport Gap, which is the end of the GSMNP section of the AT:

Of the remaining few miles, about two of them followed an amazing riverside trail along the Pigeon River.

The big surprise of the day was that we had another climb to get back to Standing Bear Farm -- I hadn't really planned on that! My topo map only took us through Great Smoky Mountain National Park, and all I knew was that Standing Bear was three miles past the park border. Who knew it was uphill!? But we took it on the chin and muscled through to the end. It sure was a beautiful sight when we finally came to the intersection of the AT and Waterville School Road...
...and an even more beautiful sight when Cindy's Trailblazer came into view. We are now on our way to a hot shower, a huge dinner, and real beds with real sheets and real pillows.

Tricorner Knob Shelter to Cosby Knob Shelter

Appalachian Trail, 7.7 miles

It was very cold here last night; I slept in two pairs of pants, my fleece, and my raincoat. I could see my breath this morning. The journal inside the shelter indicated that there had been two feet of snow here just a couple weeks ago. I've read that this is the coldest area of Great Smoky Mountain National Park. Mt. Guyot, which we summitted this morning, is only 20 feet lower than Clingmans Dome, but because of its position, it gets more exposure to extreme weather.

The bruised part of my arm is killing me. It is turning all different shades of purple and black. Nice.

I was thankful for a short mileage day today, especially because it rained a lot again throughout the day. We hiked through some beautiful wild rhododendron thickets on the way to Cosby Knob. We arrived at the shelter around lunchtime and I enjoyed a delicious two-hour nap plus ample time to read and relax. My feet appreciated the break.

And thank goodness we got here early enough to stake out a little corner of the shelter, because it is Friday night, and a slew of weekend-warrior type men showed up about 5 p.m. after hiking in from Davenport Gap. They actually brought with them a huge hunk of steak and cooked it in the shelter since it was raining cats and dogs outside. The sight of someone pulling raw meat out of a stinky backpack and then cooking it up about four feet from my head was enough to turn my stomach. And I couldn't quit thinking about how these men had just infused the entire shelter with enough food odors to attract probably every bear north of Clingmans Dome.

It kept raining all evening, and more hikers kept coming, some of them thru-hikers who were wrapping up a 20-mile day. You can't really say "oh sorry, there's really no more room" when the rain is coming down in torrents, so we just kept squeezing in. All told, I believe we currently have 18 people crammed into a shelter that is supposed to accommodate 12. It is quite uncomfortable. We're going to blow out of here as early as possible tomorrow morning.

Icewater Springs Shelter to Tricorner Knob Shelter

Appalachian Trail, 12.6 miles

The sunrise this morning at Icewater Springs was lovely. Though the highest peak of our trip was yesterday, we are still really high up. There is a strong scent of pine in this altitude because more conifers seem to grow at the higher elevations. It's a wonderful smell.

And speaking of smell, I'm happy to say that hygiene is on the upswing. Last night just before going to bed, I sponged the grime and sweat off my body and switched into my second set of hiking clothes. Typically, for a one-week trip, you bring only two sets of hiking clothes: one to wear for the first three or four days, and one to wear for the second three or four days. Yes, I did write that correctly: you wear the same clothes for days. You can imagine how close to the earth you feel (and smell) after hiking and sweating in the same garments for that long. But extra clothing equals extra weight, and there's no room for frivolous ounces in an already heavy pack. Princess that I am, I also bring my "black ensemble" for changing into at the end of each day: a lightweight black long-sleeved capilene shirt and long-john pants. These offer dryness and warmth -- which is important because hypothermia can happen even in spring and summer if you get caught in rain and your body temperature dips too low.

Also on the topic of clothing: this time I brought with me a homemade hiking kilt that I made out of ripstop quick-dry nylon. Kilts are all the rage among female and male hikers these days. In fact, just yesterday we saw a guy wearing a kilt on the trail. Mine's not working out though. It's comfortable and all, but it's too long to stay clean -- it drags in the wet grass and gets caught on stuff. Any shorter, though, and I'd feel like it offers too much potential for flashing other hikers. So I won't bring it again. For this trip, I'm putting it to use as a pillowcase by wrapping it around my frontpack, which doubles as a pillow.

Today's highlight was Charlie's Bunion. (You gotta love a mountain that's named after a foot deformity! Especially after spending the last several days abusing our feet with all this climbing!) Getting to the top reminded me of hiking Angel's Landing in Utah a couple years ago. It was pretty breathtaking. The photo of Cindy and I was taken at the top. It's hard to appreciate how high up we were; I wish I would've photographed this spot from a few different angles.

Here's that hazy view that the Smokies are famous for. This was taken from the top of Charlie's Bunion.

And here's a great view I snapped about a mile later, showing the backside of Charlie's Bunion.

This afternoon it started to rain pretty intensely and we got soaked on the way to Tricorner Knob. I still don't have any blisters, but I'm feeling a lot of hotspots from all the friction produced by wet feet sloshing inside of wet boots. My feet were absolutely pruney by the time I took my boots off at the shelter tonight. I'm sad to say, I think I need to lay these boots to rest when I get home. They've lived a long and happy life, but they're really starting to fall apart.

I slipped on a wet log this afternoon and I went down really hard. I cut my leg and hand, and I'm afraid I really injured the back of my arm. You know that spot where I should have a sinewy little tricep but which is actually pretty soft and fleshy? Well, when I fell it got slammed (badly) between a rock and my pack. I think I'm going to have a gigantic bruise there; it's quite sore. I'm lucky I didn't break anything, especially since our location at the moment is considered to be the most remote shelter area in the park. Actually, pretty much everyplace in this park feels remote and wild. Unlike previous sections of the AT, there are very few places where you feel at all close to civilization. In the entire stretch of Great Smoky Mountain National Park, the AT only crosses a road twice, and both of those times were yesterday. Once at Clingmans Dome and the other at Newfound Gap. As Dan the Bear Man put it, "You should try not to get hurt; it takes a long time to get help. Sometimes we have to carry dead people out of here."

Speaking of Newfound Gap, it felt so weird to emerge from the wild and see a parking lot, a rest area, sidewalks, and people! We felt like a freak show. We were covered with dead bugs, grime, and sweat. We drew curious looks from more than a few tourists. It felt good to get back into the woods.