Postscript to the AT

Chuck and I spent a day in Hiawassee before my friend, Jill, picked me up for my flight back to Colorado. It was a little frustrating to know that I had finished my hike only 9 miles short of the Georgia-North Carolina border, but such is the way of things when you have only a finite amount of time to hike.

It was a bright and sunny day. We checked out the stores advertising hiker supplies, wandered through the grocery store restocking Chuck's food, and just generally moseyed through town. Spring had definitely arrived, and I enjoyed seeing the flowering trees and hearing the busy birds.

We drank  coffee and played a little Scrabble in the local grocery store (I won't mention who won...).

We spent the last hour or so back at our hotel in the lobby where we ran into our friend, Chris. Chuck and I had joked that his walk made him look a little like a penguin, and so Chuck gave him the trail name of "Emperor."  I had not gotten a trail name in my short time on the trail. Emperor and Chuck had both independently suggested "Trooper" because, I assume, I was just such a good trooper despite the challenge and my lack of experience. I thought perhaps "Turtle" was more appropriate, but as I was leaving the trail, we didn't really settle on anything.

Around 7, Jill arrived to pick me up. We drove Chuck back up to Dicks Creek Gap and watched him hike off into the woods, a long journey ahead of him. I hoped his journey would continue to be filled with beauty and community, and I wished that I could continue with him.

My hike on the Appalachian Trail was filled with so many things: challenge, beauty, snow, sun, frustration, elation... Ultimately, I hope to continue hiking. It's good for my soul.

At journey's end

Day Eight: Just before the Cheese Factory Site to Hiawassee

Chuck was up early and that meant that I was up early. Those who know me will have a sense of my mood. It was not helped by the fact that today was likely to be my last day on the trail. I found myself wishing I could just continue with Chuck, just keep walking, stay out here. My practical side tried to dismiss the idea, but it proved harder to banish than I would have thought. So, as we set out, I tried to figure out whether I actually could.

I have spent most of my life trying to obtain and achieve the things in life that society expects me to want - house, family, job... I can honestly say that before I started these walks, the idea of living a life without the stability of a job and a place to live never entered my mind (even as a crazy idea). Never once. However, some of the things I've enjoyed the most in my life have been things that "never occurred" to me before I did them - living overseas, for instance. So, could this be another of those things? The answer was not apparent, and I ruminated all day.

Our morning started with a climb up Tray Mountain. We passed all the other hikers (at least 20) who had been caught in the rain at the Cheese Factory the night before.  Don't misunderstand, I was not suddenly able to walk twice as fast as the day before. We were just starting earlier than most. Everyone we passed was just getting up and ready.

The sun came out quickly, and it was clearly going to be a beautiful day! After 3 miles, we stopped for a break at Steeltrap Gap. We basked in the sun, ate a bit, and just enjoyed the day.

I know...a bunch of dead leaves. I liked the sunlight on them.

Our break was all too short. Soon we were climbing up the silly-sounding Young Lick Knob. In England, the name would sound perverted. But, I assume that the "lick" part had to do with a mineral deposit and the "knob" meant "a prominent, rounded bump along a mountain ridge" (thank you Wiktionary!). Still it was a ridiculous name. Fortunately, the climb was short and I was soon on to contemplating other things.

And yes. It's actually a picture of me

My last big climb of the hike was up Kelly Knob, an almost 900-foot climb over a one mile stretch - 17% grade! I was happy that despite the steepness, it didn't seem as difficult as the climbs at the beginning of this journey. I was improving!

We descended from Kelly Knob down to Deep Gap Shelter where we debated stopping for one last night outside. At the shelter we took the time to pull all of our gear out of our packs to allow it to dry. There were a few people already at the shelter, but it was already starting to seem a bit crowded. We decided that we would just take an extended break and continue on the 3 1/2 miles to Dicks Creek Gap, where we could get to Hiawassee.

It proved to be a good decision. A troop of Boy Scouts descended on the shelter shortly after we made our decision. They quickly took over more than a third of the area. We watched them putting up tents or hammocks, arguing or playing with each other. I smiled a little sadly to myself when it became obvious which boy was the son of the troop leader. He wasn't really liked by the other boys and didn't want to sleep outside. I hoped he would learn to make friends with others someday.  Life is lonely without friends.

We headed off towards Dicks Creek Gap. The walk down took us back into green, leafy, jungle-looking areas, with pretty little streams.

Soon we reached our destination. We were in luck. A trail angel named Oscar, who had just gotten off the trail from a section hike, was waiting with fruit and candy for hikers. He offered us a ride into Hiawassee and we gladly accepted. As we piled into his truck, I wished the AT a fond farewell. It was a hard, but enjoyable walk. 

We interrupt this blog ....

For those who have been patiently reading through my adventures as I've published them, I apologize for the long delay between posts. For those coming to this blog after the fact, hopefully you can just treat this as a weird intermission.

 

I have struggled to write about the last couple of days of our hike. I had a similar experience when writing about our hike on the Pennine Way.  In part, finishing the blog entries about the trip is like the end of the hike itself. There's a bit of a let down - having to return to the "real world."  I think the world when I'm hiking is more real than the world I return to when I finish. I would be happy to just wander the world on foot.

 

But, this time's post-perambulation let down has been much, much harder. My depression has been severe. Returning to normal life has been hard. Work is stressful. Life at home seems devoid of color in comparison. I miss my friend. 

 

Why has it been so hard? I don't quite know. I've been walking with depression for a long time (at least since being a teenager). It comes and goes - valleys and peaks. A lot of times I feel normal, and sometimes it just lurks below the surface. This time, though, is/was one of the worst - a pit of despair.

 

My tendency is to try to keep this hidden. People don't like being around depression. And who could blame them? I don't like being around it. I only wish I could walk away from it. I've tried all kinds of things over the years - counseling, pretending it doesn't exist, more counseling, medication, counseling again, sleeping a LOT, talking to a few select friends... It's a genetic thing for me unfortunately - a chemical imbalance in my brain. Or perhaps that's what makes it easier for me to live with it.

 

If you have never experienced a true depression, I envy you. The best description I've ever read of what depression is like was sent to me very recently by a dear friend. My own severity has lessened, but I'm not "normal" yet. The edge is duller though, otherwise I wouldn't even be able to write this. So, hopefully soon I will be able to get back to my writing here. Thanks for your patience! (actual publication date June 9, 2013)