Day 5: Five mountains, an emotional breakdown

I woke up warm. Dry. Inside.

Which already made Day Five feel suspicious.

Mountain Crossings had taken such good care of us the night before that leaving felt like being pushed out of a nest. But after buying what seemed like half the store during my first real restock, I decided there was only one logical next step:

Ice cream for breakfast.

I had a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Half Baked to go with my morning coffee and sat on the gazebo that had finally cleared after yesterday’s fog. Standing there in the cold mountain air, eating melted ice cream from the container, I realized something important:

I have officially entered my hiker trash era.

And honestly? It suits me.

Unfortunately, what stood between me and another cozy night inside was five mountains.
In Day five.

The AT really loves a theme.

The first climb of the day was Levelland Mountain, which might be the most misleading name in the entire trail system.

There wasn’t an ounce of flat ground involved.

That did The climb would be better if wildflowers were blooming everywhere. Bright little pops of color hidden in the woods as if nature was trying to distract me from the uphill suffering.

I found some pink flowers that I couldn’t identify, so if any plant experts are reading this please help. My degree in botany is solely due to vibrations.

Not long after, I ran into Dread Pirate and Dan again (who I stayed with at Mountain Crossings the night before), and we ended up hiking together for most of the day. Soon we were climbing Wolf Laurel Top, which had some absolutely incredible views.

And I’m talking about the mountains. I don’t. Obviously.

We later met up with Check and Donna from the lodge, which turned lunch into a full Mountain Crossings meeting. It’s surprising how quickly friendships form here when everyone is equally tired and smells vaguely suspicious.

Next was Cow Rock Mountain, which had a beautiful view with clouds rolling dramatically across the ridges. I managed to snap a quick photo before everything disappeared into the fog again.

And then came the climb to Whitlee Gap.

Which I would like to formally nominate as my villain origin story.

There was a tombstone-like monument at the bottom of the climb, which honestly looked like a warning sign.

This climb was relentless. Endless returns. Straight. Mercilessly.

I had to stop at almost every turn just to convince my legs to keep going. Walking with the group made a big difference because this solo climb would have been mentally brutal.

We barely made it, and although we skipped the climb to the shelter, we stopped to laugh at a FarOut comment that described a terrifying German shepherd, a half-naked man, and a witch. Tracing apps really unlock people’s creative writing potential.

After joking about the witch, we crossed Poor Mountain, which felt deeply personal. Like Poor Mountain, and what about poor me?

By the time we reached Sheep Rock Top, I was so delirious that I barely remember climbing it.

But when Low Gap Shelter finally appeared, I had never been so happy to see a three-walled wooden structure in my entire life.

I decided to sleep in the shelter instead of setting up my tent, partly out of laziness and partly because our Mountain Crossings team ended up there.

It became a mini reunion party.

That night, as I crawled into my quilt, completely exhausted, I realized something new:

I’m starting to find my people here.

And that might be the most comforting part of the journey so far.

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