Mountains and milestones: the walk

I left the green dragon in renewed and excited to finally cross from Georgia to North Carolina. There was lazy during my stay in the shelter a few miles from the border. Despite my Polyannish positivity, the Trab alacache path proved to be as implacably punishing as ever that day. In my newspaper I wrote «Brutal Horrible Hike» in all limits. A section turned out to be the most difficult I had faced to date, and when I finally gasp and went out to a shelter to spend the night, I felt claimed by all younger hikers and in a way they complained with the same bitter.

We made a cheerful group in that shelter, which included my new friend Ash, some other younger hikers and a large family education with several children who arrived later at night. He stopped next to the shelter and dinner time I was horrified to run out of fuel in the middle of the bar. Ash lent me his, and in the complete way of «Mom» I repaired a great tear in his shirt. In that crazy way that the path has to provide, the next morning, while filtering water in the stream, a hiker was briefly stopped to greet and had an additional fuel boat that he had collected on the path. Naturally!

The mountain: Nitida Top
The milestone: First border crossing!

The next two days on the road I could not daily, not because nothing happened, but because it was in the area, and achieving heroic feats like the ones I thought I was not able. It normally started enough: climb a great mountain and feel that I am dying in the process, walk down and repeat. Walk until you can walk anymore and find a camp or refuge enough. The mountain in question was India stop and was barely standing when the top. He killed the top, and just went down a little before camping. Since then, I have learned that anywhere near the top of a mountain during the night is not ideal, since the cut wind cut was abundantly clear. Worse, they woke me up at 3:30 am not only for a strong wind threatening to get me out of the mountain, but also flashes of distant rays and thunder. A fast weather control and a warning in my instinct told me to leave that mountain as quickly as possible, and I did so, walking for two hours in the dark. I arrived at a camp in the background just when the conductive rain began, and I walked to a shelter where I met once again with the same people last night! Breakfast and talk occurred, and despite being in motion, I was the last person to take off again. All my people headed to this distant refuge who was not sure to have it in me to reach, but bravely walked forward.

Awesome view on the Indian mountain standing.

Then Mount Albert occurred. There must be health warnings for this increase, both physical and mental. He was criminally steep. It was rocky. There were steps generated by a sadistic architect of trails whose sanity and good will towards humanity, I seriously questioned. The only thing that took me forward was that the tower at the top marked 100 miles on the road! In a rocky outcrop just before the top, I sat and sob, overwhelmed with the mad toll that this was taking my body. Then I got together and arrived at the tower, muttering curses in a low voice until I realized that I was not alone. A young man from France was reading a silent book in a close observation place. He told me in unequivocal terms that I had to climb the tower of fire, and I did. It was glorious! And in a final act of goodness he gave me a protein bar, since I had run out of snacks.

100 miles in the at !!! 🥵

Mt. Albert: Almost as fun as it looks! 😭

A strange and sad thing happened after the young Frenchman went to the side path he was walking (where he had seen several snakes. He would take the snakes on the damn steps!). A huge furry dog without a collar arrived panting along the way to the Tower of Fire. It was just for me for a smell and scritch, and it didn’t seem very threatening. The poor was irregular and fighting in the heat under that huge coat. He would not drink water, but dropped into a puddle of recent rains. I didn’t know what to do. I sent a message to Donna on the green dragon and she checked Faraout for any dog Lost. The most likely scenario was that someone had left this poor puppy and left it to their own devices. I tried to make him follow the mountain, but he didn’t move. Later I knew that another hiker I knew had given him at least the water of the puppy.

Poor lost puppy 😢.

I hope Sweet Doggo has found a safe place to place your hairy head with friendly humans. And in a similar line, I wanted to reach that distant shelter where my paths were waiting for trails. So I pushed and walked, walked, and walked a little more. I walked until my feet felt as if they were dressed in cement shoes and two types called Salvatore and Giuseppe were about to push myself to the East River (I’m Sicilian, so I can make this joke!). The sun began to wear when I finally arrived at the camp, received by the cheers and praise of my people! I felt like one of those marathoners on the back of the pack, but still limbing through the timber line almost empty of empty paper cups and racing slots. A quick check of my phone showed me that I had achieved my biggest day: 17.3 miles! Cue the theme of «Rocky» or some queen, because I felt like a champion! I slept very well that night despite an unexpected and disproportionate amount of children who cry and strangers yppy dogs that share the space of the shelter.

The mountains: Indian Standing and Albert
The milestones: 100 miles and my greatest day of mileage!

Learn Lessons:

-No Camp at the top of the mountain!
-Nepinher assumes you are alone.
-Saluga Trepa La Torre de Fuego. You won the privilege, and the view is your reward.
-The people suck (abandoning pets), but they are also sensational (providing help and the things you need).
-It’s good to cry.
Keep the track of your fuel levels for cooking!
-Nave a water plan! I ran out of water that came out of the Indian standing and this was not fun. I wish it was the last time!
-Specte the unexpected random squeak dogs, the French are all existential at the top of the mountains, the winging people of Weekender who place not one but two tents in the shelter and bring their free children, small dogs that make strange noises all night and look at it as if they can sneak in their store and eat their face, and the long years see themselves as if they were in place. anywhere they are with this lot and have the THRU with the THRA. And a private one that smells at a summer music festival on day seven.

Next: Franklin, a city of trails and a hikers to delight all the senses!

Some bonus photos!

The border tree devoured what I think was once a pipe to hold a book of paths of trails.

I find so many trees that resemble creatures. I see a Baleen whale!

A hobby horse!

The legendary Apalaches crossed the tree of the limbs. Okay, I invented it, but it is still great!

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