Jessie follows the trail to Newfound Gap.
The day after Kuwohi, things started to get worse. The group we had been hiking with had set a goal of walking 20 miles. The longest we had done up to this point was 17, but the challenge seemed quite appealing. Plus, we would arrive in Hot Springs a day early.
Sunlight hits the moss-covered trees outside the Mt. Collins shelter.
The day didn’t start badly. In fact, it was an absolutely incredible sunrise that broke through the mossy forest. It looked like it was going to be a nice weather day with a lot of great trails. We ended up walking with “Trouble” most of the way to Newfound Gap, talking about life in Colorado.
Rays of light break through the fog when the sun rises.
It was a nice smooth first half of the day, but Jessie’s feet were showing signs of fatigue as we approached the gap. That’s not something you want to start feeling 5 miles into a planned 20 mile day.
Alpha leads the Newfound Gap train post.
We walked on a train for a while, chatting with Rose, Trouble, and Rambo all the way to the Ice Spring shelter. It was here that Jessie seemed to be in serious pain. She insisted that we could still go further to a shelter that was 5 miles earlier, but there was no way we would get to our planned destination.
We left lunch a little early to walk around on our own and feel how his feet would turn out. The downhill walk was the obvious culprit for the gunshots and the intense pain in his ankles. That wasn’t really great news since most of the day’s terrain consisted of losing elevation.
A view from Charlie’s bunion.
We kept pushing until we reached Charlie’s bunion, another highlight of the trip that distracted us from the problem ahead. The view from The Bunion was pretty incredible, and the longer rest took our mind off the pain a bit.
An alternative view of The Bunion.
When we started walking again, it seemed like the situation was getting a little serious. We would reach the shelter which was just over 16 miles from our starting point, but at a great cost to morale.
There were a couple of things that were building up to this point. First, we have tried many different shoes, walking techniques, first aid, and additional support for Jessie’s feet. While the Hokas were a major improvement, it was starting to get frustrating that nothing seemed to work.
Secondly, we would once again be outdone by another group of friends. It was hard to realize that we would most likely never see the group we started with again, and the thought of losing track of another upset us both. We wanted to push and keep the pace, but it wouldn’t have been wise.
Ultimately, it raised a big question about whether we would actually make it to Maine at this rate. We can’t do longer days and risk major injuries, but our current pace would allow us to finish in November. That’s already past the deadline for Katahdin’s closure and well past the October 11 deadline we have to celebrate my best friend’s wedding.
The idea of reducing miles instead of increasing them seemed difficult to swallow. For the first time along the way, we seriously considered quitting. It was at a point that it was going beyond “this is difficult” and even reaching a point where it was difficult to see the point of continuing.
We knew we were also discussing it after a challenging and demoralizing day, so we decided to delay any final decisions until we were further along the path. They couldn’t have picked us up that night anyway as we were 10-20 miles in either direction on a highway.
We joined the large group of strangers who had gathered around the shelter and began chatting to hopefully take our minds off the difficult choice. That’s when we got the news that the forecast for tomorrow was going to be thunder and rain all day. Another batch of not so good news.
FarOut also showed that the next day was going to be another long downhill day, another devastating blow to morale. We tried to go to sleep, but honestly, I was a little nervous about what the day was going to be like so I could sleep.
A rainy, wet, foggy Appalachian Trail in The Smokies.
Just as I was finally closing my eyes, a metallic noise began to sound above me as the rain began to pound against the metal roof of the shelter. It started with a loud bang and evolved into a full-blown ping scandal. It didn’t sound much different than a gang of apes beating up Oscar the Grouch.
I looked at Jessie to see if that would wake her up. She was clearly awake and the expression on her face conveyed intense fear. I’m sure my face reflected exactly the same thing. We were in no rush to begin our 13 mile day to Cosby Knob.
I got up to go look at the storm. As I sat under the shelter porch, sadly watching the downpour, I struck up a conversation with Side Quest. I met him last night and spoke to him briefly before going to bed. She was getting ready to brave the rain when I noticed she had a rather stylish anklet.
I asked as many questions as I could, hoping to find some kind of solution for Jessie’s ankles by the time we got to Hot Springs. A few minutes later, Jessie had emerged from the shelter and I excitedly told her to come look at the brace. It’s kind of strange what things you get excited about when walking is your only job.
It seemed like a good reason to go to Hot Springs and hopefully find a brace for Jessie’s ankle. Maybe the walking sections would finally start to feel a little more comfortable.
A short break in the rain allows some sunlight to hit the trail.
We said goodbye to Side Quest when he left shortly before us. In a rather welcome change of fortune, the rain eased and we began hiking across the creek that was the Appalachian Trail.
Immediately, the pain from yesterday returned to Jessie’s feet and the bad feelings began to arise again. I was starting to wonder if it would be a good idea to drop off and get picked up at Davenport Gap.
The beautiful, misty green tunnel of the AT In The Smokies.
The trail was foggy, wet and dark. Honestly, a pretty faithful reflection of our state of mind. However, there was a haunting beauty that at least got us through the day.
The Cosby Knob Shleter sign.
We stopped at Cosby Knob and found our old friend Rambo chatting up a storm. He seemed excited to see us and yelled, «OH! HEY GUYS, I HAVE SOMETHING FOR YOU! I MET THIS SIDEWINDER GUY AND WANTED ME TO GIVE YOU SOMETHING.»
He reached into his backpack and pulled out a bandage to serve as a temporary support for Jessie’s ankle.
In Rambo style, he recounted the entire interaction in extreme detail. It was a warm and welcome review that lifted our spirits. Rambo is just the kind of guy you need to see at the end of a tough day.
Side Quest, I’m not sure if you’re a Trek reader, but you pretty much kept us from getting home the next day. So thank you very MANY for the packaging, it has been put to good use. And also a big thank you to Rambo for completing the delivery! It seemed like the closest thing to true trail magic we’d experienced so far. The trail certainly delivers.
