Day 26: Mile 200 in Kuwohi: clouds, wet socks and a miracle

While the last few days had been nothing but rain, mud, and absolutely zero heat, to say he was still motivated would be an understatement.

Today a pretty important milestone was celebrated: mile 200.

And not just any mile marker: mile 200 is Options (formerly known as Clingmans Dome), the highest point on the entire Appalachian Trail.

It seemed almost impossible to me that he was already here.

However, after the weather we had been dealing with, I had very little confidence that we would actually be able to get a view.

Getting out of my quilt that morning was painful.

Everything was wet.

My clothes? Wet.
My shoes? Wet.
My soul? Also wet.

I had reached my breaking point with one specific thing: wet socks.

I couldn’t do it.

I know Dread Pirate somehow had the mental fortitude to put on cold, soggy socks like it was no big deal, but I don’t have that build. Wet socks are my kryptonite.

So I gave in and pulled out my emergency dry pair.

Desperate times.

Whatever magical boost those socks gave me, I started walking with slightly improved morale…although that didn’t last long.

As I climbed, the weather continued to play emotional games with me.

The clouds would clear enough for me to think:

Wait… are we really about to get the sun up?

And then-

No.

Fog.

Even thicker than before.

Rude.

I stopped at Double spring gap for a break and ran into some National Park Service workers installing new bear shelters.

They explained that the helicopters fly on the poles, the mules bring some of the equipment and much of the rest they carry themselves.

Honestly, huge respect.

People don’t always think about how much work goes into keeping these trails safe and accessible, but seeing them there really puts it into perspective.

So thank you to all the trail crews and park workers.

You all are the real MVPs.

I continued hauling trucks.

And when I say truck I mean slowly shuffling my feet uphill while trying not to become emotionally attached to every flat rock I can sit on.

At some point, I stopped because of an obligation. honey bread.

Fuel for elite hiking.

Not nutritionally.

Spiritually.

As I approached Kuwohi, I caught glimpses of tiny mountains through gaps in the fog.

That gave me enough hope to keep going.

Then I finally came out of the forest…

…directly on a paved road.

And suddenly I found myself surrounded by more people than I had seen in days.

Tourists.

Families.

People in jeans.

People who smelled good.

It was like entering another dimension.

Unfortunately, my dreams of a clear summit were immediately dashed.

The upper part was completely shod.

Fog everywhere.

Cold.

Windy.

No views.

And yes, I was disappointed.

Not devastated, just disappointed.

I rode 200 miles and reached the highest point on the AT, and Mother Nature said:

«The best I can do is white.»

I decided to walk to the visitor center to use a trash can and, more importantly, a glorious A+ private.

Luxury.

While sitting near the building, I noticed something strange.

The clouds were moving.

Fast.

As… In fact exciting.

I took off my shoes and began to sunbathe next to the trash can like an absolutely wild creature.

I’m sure the tourists watching me had questions.

He probably looked like a deranged goblin that had come out of the woods and was trying to photosynthesize.

And honestly?

Fair.

But then I realized…

In fact, the sky was clearing.

So I put my shoes back on and walked up that extra hill.

And oh.

My.

God.

In less than an hour, the summit had been completely transformed.

The thick fog had disappeared.

In its place was one of the most stunning views I have ever seen.

a complete 360 degree panorama of the Smokies spread around me.

Layer upon layer of blue ridges fading into the distance.

It was unreal.

I felt incredibly lucky.

If I had skipped that detour…

If I had run to camp…

If I hadn’t heard that little voice telling me to wait a little longer…

I would have missed it all.

That felt like such a lesson. Das

Sometimes it really is worth stopping.

Not every day has to consist of running to camp.

Sometimes magic happens when you stay still a little longer.

And wow, this was magical.

My mood was completely cured.

I was on cloud nine.

(Yes, pun absolutely intended.)

The next few kilometers until Mount Collins Shelter They were…less magical.

Brutal, honestly.

I still had enough excitement from the summit to keep a little pep in my step, but that faded pretty quickly when I realized the shelter was another 0.4 miles off trail.

Because.

Just why.

As if that wasn’t enough, I ended up slipping and falling directly on my butt.

At that moment I had nothing left.

Physically.

Emotionally.

Spiritually.

I finally arrived at camp, completely exhausted, and let sleep take over me almost immediately.

But one thing is for sure…

I won’t forget mile 200 anytime soon.