Day 3: Sassafras Mountain and other personal attacks

Day 3 was, without a doubt, the most difficult morning so far.

My alarm went off at 6am, but instead of getting up, I lay there staring at the ceiling of my tent for a full thirty minutes questioning every decision I had made.

However, I finally gathered the strength to deflate my mat and return to reality.

I also discovered that my battery had completely drained overnight, leaving me with only about 60% phone battery to get to Neel Gap.

Awesome.

And unfortunately, since I had camped at the bottom of a slope, the morning began immediately with a climb up Sassafras Mountain.

Which, honestly, is an incredibly accurate name because that mountain was bold towards me all the way up.

However, the view from the top almost makes up for it.

Almost.

As I continued hiking, I began to develop very strong opinions about hiking uphill versus downhill.

Flat terrain is obviously the superior option, but apparently the Appalachian Trail didn’t get that memo.

At first, I assumed that uphill hiking would be my biggest enemy. But honestly? Uphill is easy. It’s a very honest kind of suffering. You know it’s going to hurt and it delivers exactly what it promises.

The decline, however, is misleading.

It tricks you into thinking you’re taking a break before suddenly presenting you with completely new forms of knee pain that you didn’t know existed before.

Gravity helps, sure, but at what emotional cost?

Luckily, somewhere in the middle of all this suffering, I stumbled upon Justus Creek, possibly one of my favorite places so far on the trail.

Like seeing an oasis in the desert.

It was quiet, cold, beautiful and exactly the kind of place that makes you understand why people fall in love with hiking.

I sat by the water for a while and chatted with two local women who were walking their dogs. I was told this was one of the prettiest sections of the Appalachian Trail, and while I still have about 2,000 miles left before I can classify anything with confidence, I will say that it was absolutely beautiful.

They also told me they were proud of me, which strangely meant a lot.

The afternoon, however, was hard.

I was out of energy, sore, and moving noticeably slower than the previous two days. But despite all that, there were still moments that made the fight worth it.

One of those moments was arriving at Ramrock Mountain.

The views stretched for miles and for a second I forgot how much my feet hurt.

Obviously, I had to take the obligatory exhausted hiker selfie.

When I arrived at Woody Gap for the night, I was completely exhausted.

Honestly, the campsite is really great. There’s this amphitheater-style stone area with tons of tent sites hidden in the woods. I found a small secluded space that felt surprisingly cozy considering I was now essentially living outside.

Dinner almost ended disastrously when I accidentally knocked over my pot while trying to balance it on the stove.

Fortunately, the stove wasn’t turned on yet, otherwise it probably would have launched the ramen directly into another dimension.

Instead, I only lost a small amount of my ramen and bean concoction and my dignity.

Honestly, a victory.

I got into my tent pretty early because I knew it would rain overnight and I wanted to get an early start the next morning.

And despite the pain, despite the exhaustion, despite the fact that my body currently feels like it belongs to an 87-year-old coal miner…

I fell asleep almost instantly.

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