AT Day 1: That's how society works (or does it?)
On the morning of May 19, I woke to the sweet smell of coffee brewing. If you love coffee as much as I do, you know how sweet this smell is in the morning. I usually end up brewing my own coffee, but there’s just something extra sweet about waking up to the smell of coffee someone else already made for you. It doesn’t matter who that person is, the barista at the coffee shop, your spouse or your friend. The smell is just as sweet.
Upon sneaking out of our room to use the restroom before hunting the hot bean water that makes my brain go, I was greeted by Lady Diana. Not that Lady Diana, but she might as well be the Lady Diana of the Appalachian Trail.
Her hostel, Lady Di’s Bed and Breakfast, was a luxury setup as far as AT hostels go. This was my first stay at a hostel on the AT, so I had no idea what to expect. My fellow hikers tell me Lady Di’s place is luxurious, and it was. The whole house was clean and organized. Pretty much anything you needed, Lady Di or one of her guests had an extra to spare.
I wasn’t sure how my mom felt about staying at a hostel, but I was excited. My husband and I have stayed at hostels before on trips to big cities. It’s cheaper, and honestly, we really just needed a safe place to lay our head. Nothing fancy required. Lady Di’s place, I would firmly label as “fancy.” And $50 a night for “fancy” that comes with a complete hot breakfast and free laundry service is a steal.
If you find yourself needing a place to stay in Damascus, I highly recommend Lady Di. (also, tell her dog, Duke, I said hello).
I got dressed and went downstairs to check out the breakfast situation. Fleetwood Mac was playing in the kitchen as sleepy hikers poured coffee. At that moment, I knew this was going to be a great trip.
Lady Di handed me a full plate of quiche, roasted potatoes and bacon. I filled a mug with hot, dark, black coffee and sat down with my mom, Callie and 10 other strangers to eat breakfast.
We were a sight to see, all of us dirty (and soon to be dirty) hikers stuffing their faces with black coffee and potatoes. The man I sat next to was named “Fight Back.” He was thru-hiking the AT, and acquired that name because he said he refuses to get old. He wants to always fight back. Thank you, Fight Back, for your kindness and tenacity. I wish you the best on your hike :)
The breakfast was delicious, but I couldn’t eat much. I was so nervous. What if I forgot something? Will I die if I don’t have something I need? How bad would it be if I died in the woods alone. All of these I knew were not possible. I had packed so meticulously. I knew where everything was in my pack, and took the time to place frequently needed items in easily accessible places. Still, my stomach was swirling.
We did some last-minute organizing and headed to Mt. Rogers Outfitters to catch our shuttle down to Shook Branch, TN, where we would start our 45-mile journey back to Damascus.
Our shuttle driver was named Lumpy. “There’s a real nice picture of me at the post office,” he said glumly after introducing himself. That comment was followed by big eyes from my mom and a chuckle from Lumpy.
Lumpy was a great driver and got us to our spot safely. There was something unnerving about being dropped off on the side of the highway in the middle of nowhere by a stranger named Lumpy. But, hey, welcome to the AT. Much weirder things happen here, as I would soon learn.
Day 1 included about 9.5 miles of rolling hills and only one water stop 8 miles up the trail. I’m not sure what I expected from the “water sources” on the AT. What I didn’t expect was a tiny trickling stream directed into a flow you could collect in a bottle with a Rhododendron leaf. That’s what it was. My already present water anxiety reared its ugly head when I saw the tiny stream.
This would be the only place for us to get water for the next 5 miles, and we had to cook dinner and breakfast using that water. We collected as much as we could, and had a snack (along with around 8 other hikers) before continuing on to Vandeventer Shelter, our planned camp spot for the night.
Turns out, there were a lot of people on the trail this weekend. I can only assume we were hiking along with the AT bubble that starts in Georgia during April/March and hikes north. The shelter was full, plus there were multiple tent campers at the shelter. There we met Smiles, MacGyver and several other trail friends we would see throughout our three-day journey.
During dinner, I overheard a hiker explaining something to another hiker. I didn’t quite hear what they were talking about, but I did hear “you know, that’s how society works.” To which another hiker, who was also eavesdropping, said “society works?”
I laughed, relieved that someone else had the same thought process as me. I looked at him and said “yeah, I wasn’t aware it did work,” to which the shelter erupted with laughter.
In that moment, this unknown place filled with complete strangers felt like home. There’s something about the woods that draws a certain type of person. We end up in the woods for various reasons, but the woods seem to answer a myriad of prayers and questions. The answers don’t come in words or revelations. It’s more of a quiet connection with nature that soothes the soul.
I’ve done my fair share of wandering lately. Wandering into questions that make my heart stop, wandering into the woods to run until my legs go numb, wandering into the unknown chaos of being alive during this period of history. I’ve found more peace in the wandering than I ever found in a pew, office or classroom. Embracing the unknown, be it asking terrifying questions or wandering through the woods for three days, somehow feels safer than any certainty I’ve ever found.
There was a chance of rain, so we anxiously tethered our rain flys as tight was we could. I was also nervous about being on the ridge of a mountain the night of expected rain. Luckily, it didn’t rain on us that night.
I fell asleep to the sound of whippoorwills singing. It’s one of the sweetest sounds I’ve heard.