It felt so great to be back sleeping in my hammock last night. The sound of the brook babbling next to me. I slept better than any night in the smokies. Until the rooster woke up. At 5am. 

By 6, I was packing up camp and getting ready to head out when I ran into mamas boy. “Just made a pot of coffee if you’re interested.” I was. 

I sat on a log by the fire drinking coffee and chatting with Mamas Boy, Struggle Bus (I think one of the owners) and Gator Bait. Gator Bait, I learned, got his trail name when a gator snuck up on him while he was camping in Florida and ended up stealing his tent. Some how, he said, a trail angel was able to get him a new tent that very day and his adventure continued. 

But I knew I had miles to go before I sleep and promises to keep (that I would return to yesterday’s trail magic to give it another go), so I headed out. I soon had another cup of coffee, a few sticks of cheese, a pack of muffins and was ready to climb. And climb we did. 

It was a long climb. The first 6 or so miles straight up hill, gaining close to 3,000 feet. I passed a section hiker who had been hiking the trail for 23 years. He was excited to tell me that he only had about 200 miles left! He also told me to be on the lookout for his buddy. They each drive to different sides of their hike for the day and swap keys in the middle before returning to the others’ car and meeting somewhere for dinner. 

The day was cold and soon turned rainy. I raised my trusty umbrella and powered on. I passed an older guy who let me by when he heard me coming but when I caught up to his wife she had no idea I was there. I asked if I could pass and she apologized “oh I’m just slow today. It’s been a tough day.”

“Sure has,” I responded (though mostly to be polite. I really felt quite great). “It’s nasty out there.”

“Yeah and my hand fucking hurts and my friend that I’ve been hiking with just called it. She went home today”

I stopped, knowing how hard that could be. “Im really sorry to hear that. Can I give you a hug!” I asked. 

She told me a fist bump would do. But as we bumped knuckles she started to cry and then hugged me tight. 

“Hey,” I started. “But you’re still out here right? It’s a bad day-“

“It’s a shitty fucking day.”

“Alright it’s a shitty fucking day. But you’re still doing it. You’re still marching to Maine and when you’re there you’ll remember today as the shitty fucking day you pushed through.”

She nodded.

“And when you get there it’ll be even better knowing how hard you had to push.”

She let go and smiled. “What’s your name?” She asked. 

I told her it was D’art and when I asked her hers, she said it was knockers. I was scared to ask any follow ups so wished her a great day and told her she could do it one more time. 

The pep talk meant for her worked on me and I found myself practically flying. When I reached the shelter I decided that I felt too good to stop and it was too early. Since it was raining I’d be cooped up in my hammock if I went to camp. I was already saturated so I figured I’d get a few more miles in. 

Soon I found myself in a, somehow, sunny campground with just McKay and Jack Rabbit. One other guy showed up but after staring at his phone for 5 minutes he left. 

After so many social nights, it feels great to have a quiet night and feel like we’re really camping. 

Key stats:

Miles: 19

Elevation gained: 5900 ft

People at this campsite: 3