Day twenty nine

Monday March 27, 2017

Clingman’s Dome: I began my assent early. I was on the trail about 8:45. Again the day was misty, rainy, with almost no visibility. Some of the most spectacular vistas on the entire A.T. were all around me and I couldn’t see 100 ft. At least the wind was down a little.

I struggled all morning but managed to make the 6667 ft. summit around noon. This is the highest point on the A.T. 

If the trail was muddy yesterday, it was a soupy, oozing quagmire today. I was slipping and sliding constantly. And if there wasn’t mud there were wet slippery rocks. At least I had a break going down the backside of Clingman’s. 

After the descent of Clingman’s there was one last climb up Mt. Collins before a long 4.4 mile descent down to Newfound Gap, where I would hitch a ride into Gatlinburg. 

On paper the climb up Mt. Collins looked fairly easy, but I struggled more on it than I did on Clingman’s Dome. But I did make it up. After the summit I breathed a sigh of relief, ready for that gentle downhill hike to a hot meal and a hot shower.

Ha. Because of four days of high winds there were many trees down across the trail. All sizes and heights of trees. Some you went under, others you went over and a few you could actually go around. The worst were the ones that were about chest high. You had to work your way under without getting down in the soupy mud. And many of these trees had limbs sticking down too. This was not fun hiking.

Shortly after I started that long downhill I started having problems with my pack. The left shoulder strap was loose and would hang down my left shoulder. This caused the weight of the pack to shift to my right, causing stress and pain on my lower back. It also caused me to lean to my left. I though I must have snagged to on a limb as I went under a downed tree. I took my pack off and looked at the straps but everything looked equil. I tightened the left strap anyway. I hiked on and the problem persisted and the lower back pain intensified and I leaned more to the left.

I must have taken my pack off half a dozen times, trying to adjust it. I would hike and reach behind me and sling my pack to the right, trying to give my back some relief. Meanwhile I’m leaning more to the left. It eventually dawned on me that there was nothing wrong with my backpack. The problem was with my body. I had done something to my back, causing the pain and the lean to the left. Either one of the many slips in the mud or the under or over of one of the many downed trees.

This was a serious situation. I was still several miles from Newfound Gap. I would hobble along a few hundred yards then have to lean over my trekking poles to give my back a little relief. This process was repeated over and over for hours. As the pain grew the distance between breaks grew shorter until I would only go about fifty feet before stopping. My lean to the left also increased. Needless to say, I was not making much progress.

I eventually could hear cars off in the distance. So I was making some progress. But it was also getting late in the day and I was concerned about being on the trail after dark.

The going was so slow and the pain great enough that I  began to contemplate the possibility of dropping my pack on the trail and leaving it behind. I was considering it enough to begin considering what I needed to take out of the pack before leaving it behind. This was no small decision considering that the pack and its contents probably coast about two thousand dollars. Then I though, wait I don’t need my food bag, that probably weighs four pounds. So I stopped yet again and took off my pack, dug out my food bag and flung it down the mountain side. In retrospect this was not a very good decision. What I should have done was just drop it on the trail where it would have been found by a park ranger, a trail runner, or even another hiker. But it sure felt good to fling that bag down to mountain side.

And less weight did seem to help if only psychologically. I hobbled and rested, hobbled and rested until eventually I could hear cars above me. Then a little later I could actually see them. I had to be getting close. Right? My biggest fear was that there was another switch back and the parking lot was farther down the hill. But that was not the case. A little farther on I could hear voices and see people on the hill. I hobbled up that last hill and onto the road. I knew I had to go west for Gatlinburg so I hobbled across the road and dropped my pack in the grass. And almost cried. I still had that lean to the left and the back pain but at least the weight was off my back.

I plant my trekking poles in the grass and leaned my pack against them so people can see that I am a hiker, and stick out my thumb. A few cars go by and then I hear a voice behind me “Sir do you need a ride?” I turn and respond “Are you going to Gatlinburg? “ He says that he is and that he, his wife, and son would be happy to give me a ride. I explain that I had developed a back problem. He picks up my pack and carries it across the parking lot and puts it in the back of his car. 

It turns out that they are a family from Western Tennessee on vacation and day hiking in the Smokies. They take me to Gatlinburg but there is no room at the Inn. Hampton Inn that is. We passed a Days Inn a block earlier and I ask if they would mind taking me back there. They did and Days Inn had a room and that is where I am now.

This morning I took a good hard look at my situation. My back hurts. I climbed one flight of stairs, to do my laundry, and my knees ached.

It is 66.6 miles (not a good omen) from New Found Gap to Hot Springs, without a reliable resupply. I looked at the elevation profile of those 66.6 miles and they look just as difficult as anything that I have tackled thus far. I don’t think that I can carry enough protein to propel me over those mountains. Fuel!

So I have decided to fly home tomorrow.  I hiked 206.8 miles. But now my knees are beginning to give me problems, not to mention my back. I said all along that I would not let this adventure wear me down to the point that I would have health consequences from it for the rest of my life. I think that I have reached that point.

I want to have other adventures. I hope that you will come along.

206.8 miles down      zero miles to go.

James Derrick (Cotton) Edwards