Mile 210

I entered the Smokies on a foggy, cold, downright wet day. The funny thing about the Smoky Mountains is that the entry is all uphill. After the initial ascent, contrary to previous warnings relating to difficulty, you’re running along the shallows of the ridgeline. In that respect, it’s much like the rest of the trail.

When hiking in the cold and the wet, the name of the game is staying warm but dry. This means no sweating. Slower pace, more extended day, and despite all your best efforts, the mist still permeates everything. So why would I push through such a horrible day to get into the park? The rest of the week will be clear and sunny. Nothing beats hiking on a glorious sunny day. Nothing that is except hiking the Smokey-friggin Mountains with their never-ending views on a glorious sunny day. So I pushed through the crappy day to enjoy the remaining week. It was well worth it too!

On the first night, I was greeted by a warm fire upon arriving at the shelter. Someone was keeping it warm for the rest of us. Arriving early meant I got some prime real estate on the top platform. It was crowded, but our collective body heat was comforting. Plus, no one snored! I woke to a pair of frozen hiking boots. I walked through a section of forest with branches sheathed in a layer of ice. Quite odd looking juxtaposed against the otherwise warm sunny day. On day one of the Smokies, my hard work paid off as I summited Clingmans Dome. It is the highest point on the AT at over 6,000 feet. It is also one of the most popular points along the AT, attracting crowds of tourists every day of the week. However, only a handful of hikers were there when I arrived. Due to a downed tree across the tourist road, we had the viewing tower to ourselves. No muggles in sight, and a clear sunny day meant the views were terrific and a private experience. It was glorious! I even knocked out my first 20-mile day on the same hike!

Today is my last day in this wondrous park. I lay here in the early morning light, grateful for my fluffy quilts suspended in my hammock. A herd of deer bound by as I strategize for the coming day, and I am content. My body still aches. My feet still hurt. However, the rhythm of the hike has taken hold of me, and I feel at home.