[Just kidding. No photos here, either. It’s just that I used up all my good photos on the other posts…]
I know, I know. Lots of people spend waaaay more than a week on the AT, and the things they accomplish are bloody amazing in comparison, but I had a week, and I’m impressed with what I accomplished. Also, I like numbers, so let’s add some up!
- Trail Map Says: 65.8 total miles hiked
- Laura’s Watch Says: 74.71 total miles hiked
- Elevation Gain: 12,472 feet up
- Elevation Loss: 14,576 feet down
- Pace Range: 21’46” per mile to 52′:02″ per mile
- Average Heart Rate Range: 104-132bpm
- States Hiked In: 3 (TN, NC, VA)
- Pounds of Gear Schlepped: 38
- Pounds of Food Schlepped: 18.5
- Pounds of Food Consumed: ~15
- Rain Storms Hiked Through: 2
- Showers Taken: 3
- Shelters Slept In: 2
- Hornet Nests Walked By: 6
- Hornet Stings Suffered: Laura 0, Dustin 0, Hobz 7
- Mushrooms Photographed: 43
- Mushrooms Tasted: 2
- Mushrooms Died From: None
- Bears Encountered: None
- Machete Murderers Narrowly Escaped: Unknown
I was ready to blame my marshmallow-butt for how much I struggled on the first day, but… LOOK at that mountain! Pond Mountain, I think it was called. There was no pond.
For all that appears to be the most vicious hiking day by far, our cumulative elevation gain for the first four days was nearly the same each day, around 2,000 feet, with Day 2 being the day of biggest gain, at almost 2,800 feet. The ups and downs really add up.
Things I will add to my gear list for next time:
- Face visor
- Super glue
- Needle & thread
- Meclizine (vertigo drugs)
- A very soft face-mopping rag
Things I will leave home next time:
- Big ol’ hat
- Sunscreen
- That extra 3.5 pounds of food
There’s actually less on that list than expected, and given how much food we DID eat, maybe I didn’t overpack as much as it felt like I did on that first day. Part of the weight problem is simply that I don’t have the ultralightest of gear. That’s fine – that’s the right setup for me right now. I’m just going to have to toughen up to handle the first few heavy days.
One thing that surprised me about the food situation was how hungry I wasn’t the first couple days. I think something about the physical and emotional stress messed with my mind. I didn’t eat nearly as much as I thought I would, or that I remember having eaten on past big hikes. So note to self for next time: plan for a couple light eating days at the beginning.
What else did we learn on the trail? To avoid getting stung by hornets, bring Hobz along as a distraction? Don’t take water sources for granted when you bring us along (apparently we bring the rain storms AND dry up the springs)? Humidity SUCKS? No particularly astonishing life lessons here.
I did learn that you really can eat things you find in the forest, and that they can be delicious. I would like to learn more about how to do that safely.
And finally, let’s talk about trail names. Everyone on the AT gets one. It can be bestowed upon you by another hiker, or you can invent your own. There are no rules, and some people skip it all together. I studied the names scribbled on graffiti boards in the various shelters and have been amused by the huge variety out there. “Sticky Buns” is my current favorite.
I asked Hobz if he had a trail name, and he replied, “I’m still just Hobz. Seemed redundant to adopt a second fake name.” His real name is Ken, but he’s been going by Hobz as long as I’ve known him, which is at least twenty years.
In any case, we took to calling him Hornet Bait after the second time he got stung by hornets in our company, which was only two out of the FOUR times he got stung on his two-week trek this year.
As for me? On day two of our hike, Hobz said, “can I offer a suggestion?”
“Of course!” I said, expecting tips on lightening my load, maybe, or a change to our itinerary.
“If you haven’t thought of trail names yet, I was thinking something good for the pair of you might be ‘Jots’ and ‘Shots.’ You’re always writing stuff down, and he’s always taking photos.”
True enough, and clever! I toted around a little plastic folder full of blank journal pages that I studiously filled out every night, and Dustin lugged a very impressive camera the whole way.
I considered it. It was better than anything I’d thought up for myself. I practiced using it in sentences in my head. I imagined introducing myself to people that way. It never felt right enough to try out loud. I considered variations on the theme. “Scribbler?” “Wordsmith?” “Journalmeister5000?” Nah, nah, nah.
Several days after our hike, I was telling a friend about all our adventures. She expressed admiration that we’d taken on such a big project, and was glad we had an experienced guide.
“Yeah, we were fortunate he was willing to keep down with my pace,” I told her. “Before we agreed to meet up, I did my best to make really sure he knew about the kind mileage I can manage, and my little hummingbird heart.”
Later that day, after we’d been out exploring for several hours and the dinner hour had somehow come and gone without notice, she checked in with me. “How’s our little hummingbird doing?”
And I thought, “of course.”
The writing angle suited my vanity, but I’ve been talking about my hummingbird heart for years, in reference to how fast it beats in comparison to everyone else’s, particularly when I’m hiking. Why not aspire to the other superpowers possessed by a creature whose heart beats upward of 1,000bpm?
It might not be the most original trail name, but it feels right.
We’ll have to keep working on a name for Dustin.
Okay, friends, moms, whichever very few of you have tagged along all the way to the end of this series with me. I’m going to ease up on the rapid-fire posting for awhile. I’ve fallen dangerously behind on my journal pages since leaving the AT, so I’ll try to catch up on those for awhile. More big posts with photos coming in August!
Until then, thanks for reading along! ❤
Thither & Yon 