The Birth of Apollo – Day 11

Chilly woke up early, got out of his car, and gently pulled me out of sleep, as if the day itself had decided it was time. When I got up and moved, she had a very impressive display. There was no way a hiker could pass by and not take something, she had something for everyone.

It was a slow, reflective and grateful morning.

Gradually, the hikers I had spent the night with began to arrive. The narrow mountain road leading to Mooney Gap winds deep into the Nantahala foothills, far from any main roads, and every hiker was impressed that there was a magical trail waiting there.

The cold tortilla melts with turkey, ham or chicken for hikers as they enter, and the smell cuts through the crisp mountain air. He had a hammock set up, as well as some chairs, and before long there were ten hikers hanging around his car, laughing, eating, and soaking it all in.

As we were sitting there, Chilly looked at me and said, «the name of your trail should be Apollo.»

He went on to explain that I was a warrior before I hit the road, participating in martial arts, always improving myself mentally, physically and spiritually to prepare for war both seen and unseen, and now I was stepping into my more artistic and creative side. I loved your perspective on me and my journey. And as I walked from dusk to dawn to reach it, it was as if I brought the sun with me.

And so, I had a trail name.

That day Apollo, the walker who brought the sun, was born.

Later in the morning, I was talking to Ibex and Rising Bear, those from the magical Nomad trail, who had camped in the gap and spent most of the time with us. Ibex reminded me of my old baseball coach and it was a pleasure to spend time and talk with him, the kind of presence that makes the miles feel lighter.

Parmey, Zero and their two dogs were also there. We hadn’t seen them since Addis Gap, a quiet area along the Georgia ridges, and they were both doing well. They maintained 8-mile days to avoid injuries and allow the dogs to adjust to life on the trail. They were together for at least an hour, and Parmey and I spent most of the time exchanging hunting stories.

At one point, Chilly mentioned that he really wanted to see Bri again before she officially left. She never got to say goodbye properly and she wanted that chance.

His wish came true.

I looked out from the hammock and saw Chilly running over to give Bri a hug. I jumped up immediately after and greeted our friend. It was great to see her and catch up. We talked for a while and she mentioned that she was staying at Rock Gap Shelter, located right next to Rock Gap along the North Carolina line. It was a pretty easy decision as to where I would stay that night.

Chilly and Bri said their final goodbyes and Bri walked out.

Later that day, Cool Breeze and Stitch arrived. I found myself silently taking notes of hikers as they passed, deciding who I would want to hike with in the days to come. Both guys seemed like amazing, down-to-earth people.

The last hiker that passed by while we were cleaning up was Chuck. He was in his twenties and acted as if he had military experience. We spoke briefly and he was another relaxed and down-to-earth hiker.

Finally, around 3:30, we had everything clean. We were both energized by the joy of the day, the kind that lasts even after the moment is over.

Chilly planned to walk with me to the 100 mile mark. It felt much more appropriate than the anticlimactic Georgia-North Carolina border crossing near Bly Gap.

The hike was steep, climbing toward the ridge near Albert Mountain, but we filled it with conversation and laughter. The energy was completely different from the heaviness of yesterday. It felt good. It felt like a closure done right.

We approach the steepest section, the rocky climb to Albert Mountain, where uneven stone steps rise steeply to the summit. It didn’t bother me, I was just happy to do it with Chilly.

We finally reached the top of the climb and the base of the fire tower.

Officially double digits!!

100 miles completed, only 2,097.9 left…

We climbed the steps of the fire tower, only to discover that the hatch at the top was closed. Still, the view was beautiful, stretching over the layered ridges of North Carolina and Georgia, disappearing into a blue haze.

Where I come from and where I’m going.

Finally it was time to say goodbye, and this time a real goodbye. I probably wouldn’t see Chilly again until I finished my walk. But this was different than the first time. He had the right words now. I thanked him for sharing all these miles with me, for making the first 100 miles incredible, and for being such an incredible human being.

With a long hug, a kiss and a «see you later friend», once again we parted ways.

It’s not forever, it’s just for now.

I followed my original plan to hike to Rock Gap Shelter and meet up with Bri again.

The terrain was easy, relatively flat, with curved trails through open oak and pine forests. I would arrive at the shelter later than normal, but I was enjoying the relaxed pace of the trail.

As I continued down, I found a shelter where there were many hikers who had stopped on the magical trail. It occurred to me that I had completely missed my turn and accidentally walked to the shelter before Rock Gap, probably the Wallace Gap shelter hidden just off the ridge.

It worked very well though. I spent about half an hour talking to the hikers there. Everyone raved about the magic of Chilly’s trail and how unexpected it was, sitting in a quiet place in the middle of nowhere. They praised and praised her, and so did I.

I was able to share with them the name of my new trail and explain the story of how it came about.

Ibex chimed in, «He also had that young love driving him, he would have gone twice as many miles if that was what had to happen.»

And he was right. I’d like.

Finally, I said goodbye and finished my walk to the shelter.

When I arrived, I immediately ran to the toilet to relieve myself and then started chatting with Bri.

He asked me how I was feeling now that Chilly was missing. I explained to him that the first goodbye didn’t make me feel good and that today had been much better. Bri shared her love for her husband and how being away from him draws on the soul in an almost visceral way. I identified deeply with that and appreciated his ability to put those feelings into words.

Finally, as the sun set and the forest grew dark, I set up my tent and made dinner.

I sat with the day, the emotions, the overwhelming appreciation I have for the trail community, for Chilly, for the landscape around me, and for the rare opportunity to be here experiencing it all.

A hundred miles in.
And in some ways, it already feels like a lifetime.

Finally, I crawled into my tent and fell into a deep, well-deserved sleep.