Hike 2005 - Day 1 (Part one)

Every year, my brother John attempts a week long hike of a portion the Appalachian Trail (AT). The AT is a continuous marked footpath that goes from Katahdin in Maine to Springer Mountain in Georgia, a distance of about 2160 miles. For the past three years, I have joined him. Last year, our brother Jim and our sister Jane joined in the adventure. For this year, there are only three of us, as Jane decided one year of blistered ankles was enough.

Cast of characters:

John, the seasoned hiker. His first year out of Springer Mountain, he hiked something like 60 miles. First time he'd ever done any hiking of this sort. Naturally, as a member of my crazy family, he chose one of the most difficult hiking experiences - the Appalachian Trail. We Faldutos like to jump right into the greatest challenge. Working up to it isn't in us.

Jim, the relative newbie. Jim hiked last year and now it's in his blood. He loves the physical challenge. He's the oldest brother and feels a certain responsibility for both John and me, as older brothers are wont to do.

Matt, your humble narrator. I joined John for his second year and every subsequent one. I had a rough time my first two years with my knee taking me out the first time and bloody blisters ending my second excursion. By year three I felt great and for 2005, I was ready for anything.


Jim and John on the trail (left to right). Also pictured between the brothers is our sister Jane, who hiked last year and didn't wish to return.


Me on the trail in 2004.

The plan for day one was a simple 12 mile hike with minimal backpacks. It's often called slackpacking. John has moral issues with slackpacking. He feels you ought to hike with the pack the whole time. My feeling is you are seeing the mountain views either way, so who cares if you've only got 10 pounds on your back or 40? So with that in mind, each of us adjusted our packs. I carried only a hydration system and a few emergency items in the zipper pouch on the system, for a total of less than five pounds. Here's an example of a system, although not the one I used:



You suck the water out of the tube as you hike. It's very convenient, but the water doesn't taste as good as drinking it out of a bottle. There's a plastic-y taste to it. Jim carried a hydration system like mine as well as a bag with a few more supplies. He probably had about eight pounds on his back. John carried his actual backpack loaded with about 20 pounds of gear, which is about 10 to 15 pounds less than what he usually carries; that was as close to slackpacking as John was willing to get.

Last year we got out at Burningtown Gap, so that's where we started this year. Here's an elevation profile of the twelve miles on the first day.



As you can see, we start at about 4300 feet and climb to over 5000 feet. Then we go down and up some more and finally a huge down into the Nantahala Outdoor Center (NOC). Yuo would think the downs would be easy, but the scary part of them is the damage they can do to your knees. That's what took me out on my first AT hike. Jim, in particular, has knee issues, so he has to be extra careful on the downs.

We locked Jim's Lexus, strapped on the packs, and headed up the mountain. It was a tough climb without a lot of switchbacks, but I was feeling good and with no weight on my back, I was moving pretty quickly. Jim was right behind me and John brought up the rear. John had put on about ten pounds since last year and was probably 20 pounds over his ideal hiking weight, so he was determined to move slowly and not push himself. After about a mile, we reached Cold Spring Shelter and rested briefly.



It was not a very impressive shelter and I was glad we didn't have to spend the night there. It does hold the distinction of being the only shelter in the Nantahala National Forest above 5000 feet. We started down toward Tellico Gap. There were a number of rocky outcroppings on the way down providing some pretty spectactular views. At Tellico Gap, we rested very briefly. John was feeling the weight on his back but made no complaints.


This is Jim on his way out of Tellico Gap. He is pointing with his hiking stick at a white blaze, the two inch by six inch painted rectangles that mark the AT's path. You'll notice Jim is wearing a bug screen and under armour. Before the trip was over I would wish I could have one of those two items and was glad that at least Jim had the other.

We climbed out of Tellico Gap, moving through a rhododendron tunnel and into open forest again. About a mile and a half up the mountain, Jim and I came across a young man resting at the junction of the AT and a short trail that went to our right. That trail lead to a bald with a fire tower. Jim and I climbed the fire tower and found the young man's father enjoying the view. I called down to John, who assured us he was coming. What an amazing view. We could see for miles and miles in every direction.


My disposable camera doesn't begin to do justice to the view, but here's a shot of me atop the fire tower.

After a short while, John arrived and collapsed on the floor of the tower.


In this picture, you can also see John's backpack in the upper left and Jim's small slackpack in the upper right.

John was beat. This was very unlike him. During my first two years on the trail, John was unstoppable. He was always a few minutes or more ahead of me while consistently carrying more weight than I was. I still wasn't that concerned as I was still thinking nothing could ever stop Johnny on the Trail.

We rested for a while, drank some water, and we all dipped into our sweets. I had Bottle Caps and Fruit Rollups. Jim had Chewy Spree and John had a vast assortment of candy. After a while, John attemped to sit up and he immediately fell back as pain lanced through his leg. His muscles had seized up on him and he couldn't walk. We rested some more, John drank a lot of water, and then we helped him stand. He seemed to be doing better. We were hoping this was just a one-time-getting-used-to-the-trail-kind-of-twinge and he'd be back to his old self in a few more miles. It would turn out to be a vain hope.

(Continued soon)