Becoming Odyssa - Jennifer Pharr Davis [6]
“You need to know that the trail can and will change you,” he said. “Once you finish the trail, your life might not look the same as it did when you started. If you don’t want things to change, then you need to rethink thru-hiking.”
Then Warren, with a knowing gleam in his eye, let out a mischievous laugh that shook his soft belly, and with his arm outstretched and his palm facing up, he ushered us out of the classroom for an afternoon hike on the Appalachian Trail.
3
INEPTITUDE
EARLY MARCH 2005
UNICOI GAP, GA, TO SPRINGER MOUNTAIN, GA—
50.9 MILES
For a northbound thru-hiker, the southernmost fifty miles of the Appalachian Trail is the beginning of a new relationship rife with hopes, fears, and stomach butterflies. The anxiety and anticipation about what will come next are expressed by friendly smiles, nervous chatter, and numerous photos. The miles build up slowly as people adjust to the Trail and their gear, and the learning curve is visible each day as hikers figure out how to set up tents, pop blisters, and exist in a wilderness that is full of strangers. For many northbound thru-hikers, the foothills of Northern Georgia are both the happiest and the most challenging part of the journey.
After three days at the Appalachian Trail Institute, I felt far more prepared for my thru-hike than I had before I arrived. I felt more confident planning my food resupplies, limiting my gear, budgeting my money, and preparing myself mentally for the trail. I was still uncertain about the alternative hiking methods that we covered, such as not packing a stove and not filtering the water from mountain springs or streams, and the alternative gear options, like using a tarp instead of a tent, a trash bag instead of a raincoat, or a ski pole instead of a hiking stick. But, most importantly, I left the Institute knowing that it was not my gear that would get me to Katahdin, but my heart and my head.
The other benefit of the Appalachian Trail Institute was that I made several good friends. In particular, I had grown close to Sarah and Doug. My first reaction to the couple and their overwhelming affection for each other included a lot of mental eye-rolling. But as the workshop progressed, I felt myself reluctantly drawn to their friendly personalities and the warmth of their love for one another. By the end of our three-day course, the three of us left the workshop with a plan.
We decided to start the trail together for the sake of companionship—and the sake of my mother—and to begin our thru-hike as an unbalanced “flip-flop.”
There are three ways to thru-hike the Appalachian Trail:
1) You can start at Springer Mountain, Georgia, and hike to Mount Katahdin, Maine, as a northbound hiker.
2) You can start from Katahdin and hike to Springer as a southbound hiker.
3) Or you can start somewhere in the middle and hike to either Springer Mountain or Mount Katahdin, then return to your starting place and hike in the opposite direction to complete the trail as a flip-flop.
Most hikers who flip-flop start in the middle of the trail, near Harpers Ferry, West Virginia. We started our flip-flop in Georgia, fifty miles north of Springer Mountain. The idea was to meet in early March and hike the first fifty miles of the trail backwards.
Theoretically, there is no right or wrong direction on the Appalachian Trail, but in the month of March, in the state of Georgia, everyone hikes north—everyone except for us. We wanted to hike south to meet as many northbound thru-hikers as possible and learn from their mistakes. The more lessons we could learn vicariously, the better.
I met Sarah and Doug on March tenth in a gravel parking lot a mile north of Springer Mountain, and after gathering my gear and locking my car, I climbed into their SUV, and together we drove back down the mountain.
Unicoi Gap is only fifty trail miles from Springer Mountain, but on the road it took us winding two and a half hours to reach the trailhead.
The day so far had been sunny and cool, but at Unicoi Gap, the long