The Smokies: By the Skin of My Teeth

Mile 275, Hot Springs, North Carolina

Clingmans Dome: 6643 feet, Highest Peak on the A.T.

Hello!

I hiked a 7.5 mile “nero” yesterday and will zero here in Hot Springs ‘til AM April 7.  I made it thru the Smokies, having spent March 27 until midday April 1 traversing the 73 miles.  Hiker “Stumpknocker” (doing his 8th thru-hike since 2000!!!) told me that getting out of the Smokies unscathed** is an accomplishment worth celebrating, as many get off the A.T. for good after the experience. So, having “graduated” that stretch and not yet ready to quit, allow me to offer the following, out of the imaginary Great Smoky Mountains National Park yearbook:

NAME:  P.G. Lemieux

TRAILNAME:  SpongeFOB

ACTIVITIES: Walking, digging cat-holes, finding and filtering water, wiping out, doing tick checks

FAVOURITE TUNES:  Rainy Night in Georgia (B. Benton), Walk On (N. Young), Walk Don’t Run (The Ventures), Walk and Don’t Look Back (Tosh/Jagger), Ain’t Nothin Gonna Break My Stride (M. Wilder)….this one’s a shout out to R.S. in Ville Emard and S.S. in Brome: I think about your father a lot out here.

FAVOURITE MOVIES:  Walk The Line, Gone With the Wind, The Ghost and Mr Chicken (threw that one in just because)

FAVOURITE BOOK:  Who Has Seen the Wind

AMBITION:  To summit Katahdin 

PROBABLE DESTINATION:  Testing mouse poop for Hantavirus in A.T. shelters

CHERISHED MEMORY:  March 23, 2022 at Locust Cove Gap and 5 Days in May (2022)

PET PLEASE:  Root and rock-free ridge walking

PET PEEVE:  Hard toe-jamming descents and running low on T.P.

Signs of Spring:  Spring Beauty (Claytonia virginica)

**ABOUT LAST NIGHT

I, and many others, spent a very anxious night March 30 in the Smokies. Due to poor cell service, hikers were largely unaware of forecasted 90 mph winds and wildfire alerts (Pam knew about the fires and did get that bit to me). The only road that crosses the park is at Newfound Gap, and it had been closed that morning as a precaution. People who had previously arranged shuttles to Gatlinburg were out of luck, along with the rest of us who hadn’t planned zero days but were trying to get off trail due to warnings to avoid forested areas. So we had no choice but to hike on and hope we’d find refuge in a shelter. Icewater Spring, 3 miles distant, was slam full when I got there so made the decision to go another 7 miles to Peck’s Corner. This was going to be in excess of a 15-mile day, which is about my max right now.

Trail Hazards

Along the way, I met a 67 yr old man sitting in the middle of the trail. “Hi,” he said, “I’m 67 and figured I needed something to do, so I’m doing this. My wife left me at Newfoundland this morning (I doubts it, Mainlander!) and I’m gonna see how far I get in 21 days." I asked him if he knew about the nasty weather and he didn’t seem too concerned so I bade him well and trucked on but was worried about him. I did wonder if his wife bought more life insurance on him the day before… A few hours later, as the winds were screaming, I came across a woman  who was sitting along the trailside staring at the ground. She was all bundled up and didn’t acknowledge my presence, so I sat beside her and asked if she was ok. “I’m dizzy and dehydrated from all the wind and I have no water….” I gave her a litre of mine and then got her to eat and after about 20 minutes she said she was feeling better. I said I’d stay with her but she said she was feeling herself again and gave me some old cheddar. “It’s not from Wisconsin but it’ll do,” says she. So I asked her where she was from. “Ottawa!”

About 1.5 miles later, I got to the Peck’s Corner Shelter and it too was full, but one of the occupants said, “We’ll find room for you 'cause it’s gonna be tornado-like in a few hours.” I said I would (stupidly) chance it in my tent ‘cause there were 2 older folk behind me that would absolutely need to get into the shelter as they were already struggling. One guy went back to get the woman and carry her pack, and the 67 yr old gent finally stumbled in just after 7pm. He tried setting up his tent in the shelter vestibule but apparently it blew away! The next morning, some people told me that he was carrying his food in a trash bag (IN PRIME BEAR COUNTRY!!!) They gave him some Backcountry 101 lessons that evening.

March 31: Cosby Knob Shelter

The wind gusts that night were ferocious. I thought to myself “at least the trees (mostly firs) aren’t covered in snow or wet with rain (ya, the rationale of a true nit wit). At 3 AM the rain started and sometime thereafter trees started falling off in the distance. The shelter guys had told me to “Boogie my ass down to the shelter if things get crazy, we’ll stick you somewhere,” but I didn’t even want to risk that 100 yard trip at this point. Anyway, morning finally came and the winds and the rain subsided and I just wanted to get outta there! I had to crawl over a 3-foot diameter Fraser Fir that fell on the approach trail during the storm, and came across 8-10 more fresh fells in the next 2 hours, just blocking or within site of the trail. So I left that park behind feeling foolish, lucky, and rather in awe. I think Momma Nature might have sat me down and said “Son, I let you off the hook with a stiff warning: If you ever come back here again and take me lightly, I will send you home in a box, just big enough to hold a pizza……thin crust.”

The Emerald Forest:  Moss Covered Forest Floor

TRAIL CHARACTERS:

Miss Lorrelei, Stomps, The 3 Women (they provided enough material for an entire blog!), Monarch and Zobie, the 3 jerks I encountered about an hour into Smokies… they came running downhill towards me yelling and screaming so I thought “Shit, bear!” but they said “No bear; we just wanted to try this,” Rootbeer from Minnesota “We’re just like Canadians only meaner,” Willow and Mudflap “It ain’t a mullet, it’s a mud flap!”

Snowbird Mountain FAA Tower:  Dr. Evil's Hideout?

And finally, the guy with the post... I first saw him at Ice Springs Shelter a few days ago. He walked briskly by with his pack and a large wooden post over his shoulder. I mistook him for one of the many kids out here who drag ANYTHING out of the forest to burn at the shelters. I carried on and stopped at the next spring to water up. Some guy was there filling four water bottles (a lot to carry) and apologized to me for taking so long. “No worries,” says I, “take all the time you need.” Next thing I know, he stashes his bottles in his pack and RUNS down the ice-covered trail with his pack and a five foot pole, about 5” in diameter, over his shoulder. I was stunned. It took a few days and finally Mudflap was able to tell me a bit more. Seems the guy was, or is, going into the Marines and was worried about being the smallest, scrawniest recruit there, so he took to doing everything with that big ole post over his shoulder! Mudflap even showed me a photo he took of him. It was blurry and almost like an apparition, but it was him running off! “What’s his name?” I asked.  “Ah he doesn’t talk to anybody,” said the Flap, “and you’ll never see him again. One guy said his name is Shawn, and another thought maybe Larry.” “Hmmm,” I thought, “maybe Postman, Post Traumatic Post Disorder, or maybe Posthaste might be better.  But Larry!!??”

Thanks ya’ll!

Out,

The FOB