Appalachian Trail: Day 1

15 miles (which included a 2.5 mile trek to Gooch Gap for Fresh Ground’s Trail Magic!)

After a 10/10 start to my NOBO Appalachian Trail thru hike the day before, I woke wondering how it could ever be topped. The only way to find out was to hike the miles and see what unfolded. But first, breakfast! I sipped on my coffee and ate a “healthy” pop tart while I packed up my belongings.

The chilly winter air was a welcome gift as I climbed out of camp toward Hawk Mountain Shelter, where I took my first break (specifically to use the privy–such a treat to have a semi-normal toilet available occasionally)! I glanced at the logbook in the shelter, to see who I might encounter on trail ahead of me. A father-daughter duo, “Pooch and Echo” had stayed in the shelter the previous night. I hoped I’d get to meet them at some point.

After leaving the shelter, I climbed to a rocky outcrop overlooking an expansive valley. I toggled my phone out of Airplane Mode. There are trade offs to recently acquiring a vacation rental property (Camp Raven Rock–a gem in western North Carolina, if you want to check it out!) Having to “work” from the trail is one of them. But it’s work I love, and it’s a privilege and honor to host our guests, so I don’t mind. It was perfect timing since I almost immediately received a call from the cleaning service I hired, asking a question.

After we ended the conversation, I decided to do something I rarely do–eat a snack while sitting. I typically prefer to eat snacks while I hike, but the setting was too lovely to leave so soon. I heard footsteps behind me on the trail as I noshed on my protein bar. I exchanged peasantries with the young man making them while he picked his way through the tangled limbs reaching over the trail–damage from the recent ice storm. His name was Dylan. He carried on, and I suspected I’d never see him again, given how young and fit he appeared.

I packed up about fifteen minutes after he passed and headed down the mountain. Within minutes, I reached a sizable tree that had fallen across the trail. As I stood strategizing the best way to navigate the obstacle, I heard the sound of quick footsteps charging up the hill toward me. I peered through the fallen tree limbs and spotted Dylan.

“Hey Dylan! Did you drop something?” I shouted to him, hoping I could help him retrieve it without him needing to continue uphill or through the tree.

“No, I just got further down the trail and decided I should come back and make sure you got past this tree okay,” he said, winded from the climb.

My heart swelled with love for Dylan in that moment. “Dylan, your mama raised you well,” I answered. “I’m so touched by that. Let me see how I do on my own, but I really appreciate you being here to make sure I get by okay.”

The spaces between the tree’s branches created a large enough void that I was able to get through it with a few contorted and awkward poses, without needing his help. I knew this would become a core memory of my journey and that I’d likely be inspired by this kindness to help someone in the future.

Dylan and I hiked together down the hill and up the next one. I learned he had just finished serving in the US Air Force. He enlisted after graduating from high school. He was headed to college in the fall next to become a librarian. Something about this young man’s character and even his personality reminded me of one of my besties, Chris “Pacer” Ford, with whom I’ve shared thousands of trail miles. I smiled as we chatted.

As we hiked, we met Pooch and Echo alongside the trail while they were enjoying their lunch. They introduced themselves and Pooch explained that these were not their trail names, but their given names. I wasn’t sure if he was kidding or not, but I loved that their names were so unique if he wasn’t (turns out, he wasn’t kidding–those are their names).

Dylan and I carried on toward Hightower Gap where Max Forrester–trail angel extraordinaire–was there to greet us. Max’s booming voice instructed us to take a seat in one of his colorful camp chairs that he’d arranged into a circle for weary hikers. Next, he offered us some water and a snack. I chose a caramel cashew granola bar and a couple of Airheads–a candy I haven’t eaten since I was probably Dylan’s age. It was all delicious, but what was even more special was Max’s company and kindness.

His car was chock full of plastic bins with everything from hair ties to hand warmers. If you forgot something at the start of your thru hike, Max likely had it in that CRV (he previously drove a Subaru Forrester until he got tired of replacing its transmission multiple times).

He quizzed us on safety, asking questions such as if we knew where our next reliable water source was, and what time the sun set. He asked if we were carrying a whistle around our necks. “I’ve got one on my pack,” I told him. “That wasn’t the question,” Max wisely retorted.

“There’s a man that’s been missing on Blood Mountain since November and a whistle may have saved his life if he’d had one and known that three bursts from it was a distress signal.

“Sadly, I know all about Mr. Hosch,” I answered Max. “I’m on a search and rescue team and we helped look for him.” Max’s counsel to wear a whistle around my neck made an impression on me, and I accepted the one he offered me. If I was to get separated from my pack and lost, a whistle around my neck could prove invaluable. Pooch and Echo had also arrived and were enjoying Max’s delightful company by now.

It was hard to leave Max, but daylight wouldn’t last forever, especially in winter. Dylan and I leapfrogged the remaining 7.1 miles to Gooch Mountain Shelter. Rain was arriving that evening or I’d have elected to pitch my tent. I love shelters for the roof they provide, but I get paranoid that I’m snoring in them (I sleep best on my back while camping, which often leads to me snoring!) and I also know others will likely be snoring, too.

There were four men already sitting around chatting, and I introduced myself. It’s still hard to use my trail name, and I’m not sure why. So I keep introducing myself as Nancy, unless someone asks if I have a trail name. Jason (just out for 10 days and a Marine veteran), Nick (the thru hiker I’d met on Springer the prior day and a Marine veteran), John (another Marine veteran! AND who had known Jason while enlisted!) and Scott (a retired engineer from St. Louis) all introduced themselves and we chatted while I noshed on my remaining Fritos.

Dylan eventually arrived and asked if anyone had headed out to Gooch Gap. Max had informed us that the legend trail angel, Fresh Ground had set up the Leap Frog Cafe, and was serving up dinner until about 6 p.m. No one had made the 2.5 mile round-trip “bonus mile” trek, but I’d been thinking about it nonstop since my arrival. It would be such a treat to meet Fresh Ground, someone I’d heard about for years. It was luck if thru hikers had the opportunity to take part in one of his iconic meals, including grilled cheese, banana pancakes, or even french press coffee. But 2.5 miles….it felt like a long way to walk at the end of backpacking over twelve miles that day. “Fuck it, I’m going,” Dylan exclaimed after no one seemed to be taking the bait to join us.

Forever a victim of FOMO, I couldn’t resist at that point. “Oh okay, I’ll go with you!” I jumped up and exclaimed. “You don’t have to if you don’t want,” Dylan replied. “No, I really do want to go. I think I just needed someone to jumpstart me into walking again.” Walking without our packs to the gap felt like walking on air, we both agreed. I told Dylan that some of the best stories from his trek would likely be from side adventures like this one, even if they made for more miles and longer days.

We arrived at the gap to find Max Forrester chatting with none other than Fresh Ground. He was as energetic and jovial as I’d always witnessed on hiking vlogs. “Go wash your hands and I’ll reheat the soup. I thought I was going to have to take the rest of this to the hostel, but I’m glad you’re here to finish it off,” Fresh Ground told us as we cleaned our filthy hands.

The chicken noodle soup he’d made was truly the best I’ve ever had. Pretty sure it had as much butter as broth, and I ate two cupfuls along with a huge plate of salad (fresh food is the BEST on trail!). Fresh Ground was in full form, sharing stories of his life and peppering us with questions. He couldn’t remember my name after I told him, but when he learned I’m a retired vet, he dubbed me “Dr. Doolittle.” An alternate trail name (which I love!). Max leaned over to me while I ate and said, “You’re getting to experience him in a way not everyone does since it’s just the two of you. If there were lots of people here, he wouldn’t be sharing as much.” I felt very lucky for that and to be in Max’s company for the second time in a day.

Fresh Ground told us he’d set up his tarp and serve breakfast for the shelter crew in the morning. We exchanged phone numbers so I could text him from the shelter if anyone else arrived, so he’d have a head count. “Thanks, Diane,” he told me when I texted him so he’d have my number, too. I laughed. “It’s Nancy, but I like the name Diane, too.”

Later that night, when I texted him to confirm the head count and thank him for the dinner and hospitality, he replied, “You’re welcome Nurse Nancy.” I couldn’t wait to enjoy his iconic breakfast in the morning, but more so, his good company.

Hiker midnight comes fast in winter, and by 8:30 p.m., everyone was tucked away in the shelter or hammocks (Pooch and Echo). I slept with my head at the entrance of the shelter while Dylan and Scott slept in the opposite direction (the other three guys were in the shelter’s loft). I didn’t want Dylan to have to hear me snore, if I did, and it was also easier to exit the shelter for inevitable nighttime pee excursions.

Day two was another 10/10 and it was still hard to believe my good fortune, simply for being on trail but also in such great company and care.