Day 7: Plodding OnThe Sunday started early. Zen drove me to a local church hall that gave a free pancake and bacon breakfast for all thru-hikers. Admittedly we sat through a short sermon, but it only lasted about three minutes and wasn't overly preachy. I'm pretty far from being a God person but I could have taken more proselytising in return for free hot food. And unlimited orange juice too! To top it off, they also took a photo of me and posted it across the Atlantic to my mum - for free!
Zen took me to a supermarket where I bought enough food to take me through to the end of the Great Smoky Mountains. Hiker food for me is pop tarts, granola, cereal bars, protein bars and Reese's peanut butter. I can keep going on those forever!
I returned to the trail, briefly re-encountering Blue and Gelsey once more for some bonus trail magic, then heading on uphill, skirting close to the summit of Silver Bald (5,207ft) and ultimately climbing to the top of the beautiful Wayah Bald (5,337ft) - another summit with a tower on top of it. There I encountered someone that was amazed at my pace on the trail, having been trying to catch up with me for over an hour, but unsuccessfully. Spotting my accent, he even asked if I used to be part of the SAS - turned out he used to train British officers at Sandhurst!
I finished the night descending down to Cold Spring Shelter (4,920ft) - a good 20-mile day after my refreshing rest the night before. This would be the first night I slept on the trail where I didn't pitch tent - instead there was space in the shelter for me to sleep in my sleeping bag and on top of my mat.
- With Zen the morning after the hostel stay
- Fast flowing water is the best place to refill bottles.
- A plank crossing
- More trail
- Clear views
- Chillin' out on Wayah Bald
- Another view
Day 8: Getting a permitWaking up, a girl in the shelter sleeping 2 spaces down from me was mentioning concerns that COVID-19 could shut down some future resupply points and make all of our thru-hikes more difficult. The daily USA stats were 4,459 cases and 87 deaths (a 522% and 235% increase respectively in the time I'd been in the States) and she expressed that she might need to rethink her goals for the year.
But by this stage I was fully raring to go onwards. I marched my way to the summit of Rocky Bald (5,095ft) then onto the towered summit of Wesser Bald (4,618ft) before a long, long descent down to Nantanhala Outdoor Center (also known as the "NOC" - 1,727ft) where I paid for and printed by permit to thru-hike in the upcoming Great Smoky Mountains.
Spotting a store there, I stopped and enjoyed a 4-pack of beer before heading on. I spotted the girl from the shelter earlier that morning who had called her husband to come and collect her (apparently a 12-hour drive) and wished her well. Even in her own mind, she thought this would "all blow over" and she was perhaps being overly cautious. She planned to return to the trail as soon as possible thereafter. I wasn't in a position with as many options though - I had no home to return to (I'd literally put all I had into storage and let my rental contract expire here in the UK.)
And so I slogged my way back uphill from the NOC until I reached Sassafras Gap Shelter (4,328ft.) Sitting down for the 4-pack of beer meant that I got there rather late and only with headtorch assistance. Finding no practical space to pitch tent for the night, I ended up sleeping in a sitting position by the shelter itself, much to the bemusement of others when they woke up.
- Beginnings of a misty day
- Mistier still...
- Through the trees after it cleared
- Looking down to Nantanhala
- An aquatic view
Day 9: An Unexpected and Unwanted E-Mail ArrivesThis ended up being a shorter day than usual, despite setting off early from my seated position for the night. I climbed up to Cheoah Bald (5,052ft) then dropping down to the junction with the Bartram Trail (4,919ft) then Locust Grove Gap (3,651ft,) onto Simp Gap (3,529ft,) Stecoah Gap (3,132ft,) Sweetwater Gap (3,272ft,) Brown Fork Gap (3,584ft) and Hogback Gap (3,475ft) before finishing the day at Cody Gap (3,601ft.)
During the day I received an email from the Appalachian Trail Conservancy with their concerns over COVID-19, which I've copied and pasted below:
Dear Appalachian Trail Hiker,
In a few days, weeks or months, you are planning to embark on a journey on the Appalachian Trail (A.T.) — a journey many have described as “once in a lifetime” and “life-changing.” Some of you may have already begun your journeys. You’ve likely scrimped and saved to make this journey possible. You’ve combed over data, maps, and countless pages of information to prepare yourself. However, there is a highly contagious virus spreading throughout the country, including in Appalachian Trail states, and we have all been asked to make changes, make sacrifices, and/or take precautions to minimize its spread.
We at the Appalachian Trail Conservancy (ATC) are now asking you to do the same: please postpone your section or thru-hike. Instead, consider alternate ways of connecting to the Trail and to the outdoors.
We do not make this request lightly. We manage and protect the A.T. because it is meant to be hiked. However, the practices necessary to support a section or thru-hike may make A.T. hikers vectors to spread COVID-19 — whether congregating at shelters or around picnic tables, traveling to trailheads in shuttle vans, or lodging at the various hostels up and down the Trail.
Should you decide to embark on your Trail journey despite the risk of exposing yourself or others to COVID-19, we ask you to consider the following:
Your starting point: Do not start your section or thru-hike at the southern end of the Trail. Amicalola Falls State Park and Springer Mountain are the most common starting points, making them difficult places to establish distance between people. Large numbers start at these locations every day in March and April, and shelters and campsites at the southern end of the Trail stay crowded for weeks.
Your finances: All hikers who show symptoms of COVID-19 should self-quarantine off Trail and stay off Trail until approved for return by a qualified medical professional. Hikers with symptoms of COVID-19 should minimize the potential spread of the virus by refraining from using public transportation — including shuttles, buses, rental cars, or planes — to travel home. Hikers should also have resources for medical and lodging expenses incurred during quarantine. Lastly, consider expenses associated with traveling home should a loved one contract the virus and require your care.
Reduced support options: Many businesses and service providers along the Trail are closing temporarily. Local search and rescue may be dealing with local cases. Shuttle providers and Trail angels may be staying home, unwilling to put themselves or their families at risk. Fewer people will likely be willing to pick up hitchhikers. Hostels, outfitters, and libraries may be closed. Places that hold hiker packages may also close. Grocery stores and other locations where you were planning to resupply may have reduced inventory or may be sold out of vital items. And, to keep ATC staff safe and to avoid spreading the virus, ridge runners and caretakers normally found on Trail will no longer be available. Until further notice, all ATC Visitor Centers will be closed.
Consider shelter: Plan to avoid shelters and other points of congregation for overnight accommodation. Self-supported camping on durable surfaces 200 feet from water sources with ample distance between tents is recommended. Hikers should also avoid using privies; instead, dig a cat hole more than 200 feet from water sources and camping areas.
Vulnerable A.T. communities/limited healthcare options: Many communities along the Trail are likely low on resources and may have over-burdened healthcare systems. Carrying COVID-19 from the Trail into these communities (or vice versa) puts their healthcare systems, their healthcare workers, and the very communities that serve the Trail at risk. Some communities do not have healthcare options at all.
Spreading the virus: The Appalachian Trail is not an easy place to isolate yourself. Staying in hostels, shopping at local grocery stores, eating in local restaurants, drinking beer in local bars — or the temptation to huddle with others in a shelter on a cold, rainy night when your gear is wet — are all chances to contract or spread COVID-19.
We know this is not an easy or small decision to make, but the impacts of potentially spreading COVID-19 during your journey are big.
Again, we urge anyone planning to section or thru-hike the Trail this year to postpone their hikes. If you do decide to hit the Trail, exercise caution and minimize risk to yourself, other Trail users, and to the Trail’s communities. If you have already begun your journey, we urge you to return home until these risks have passed.
Thank you,
Sandra “Sandi” Marra
President & CEO
Appalachian Trail Conservancy
Worrying reading indeed. I thought back to the girl who had - at least temporarily - abandoned her thru-hike back at the NOC and wondered what I should do. Heading back home wasn't going to be easy - I'd walked over 100 miles away from an international airport and there was a lengthy drive before then. It wasn't clear to me how practical it would be for me to get off-trail, especially with word going round that flights were being blocked. If I went home, I also had nowhere to live and had no guarantee of a job to go back to. In fact, all my possessions that weren't in my backpack were in a self-storage unit. Just as pressing was the feeling that I'd put 2 years preparation into all this and I didn't want to sever ties with my ambitions part-way through week 2, especially when I was feeling hit and healthy.
But it dawned on me that if I carried on that there was a real risk of not being able to resupply. With the Great Smoky Mountains coming up, I had a 6-day hike through bear country coming up, in an area known for very limited phone reception. If I came out the other end with no way to source any food to eat, I would suffer for it. And I also began to realise that my medical insurance (which almost assuredly considered a global pandemic to be an "Act of God") wouldn't cover me if I went and continued along a trail after being advised that I should abandon it.
I messaged a few friends, as well as my sister back in the UK, and decided to sleep on it. As it turned out, there was a couple more Brits in the tents near me at Cody Gap too, the first I'd seen since Day 3.
- Keepin' on marchin'
- The "Brown Corridor"
- Looking down...
Day 10: An Early FarewellI woke up and knew that whilst I could continue, I probably shouldn't. The Trail itself wasn't going anywhere and I'd be able to return if I set my mind to it. I thought back to 2012 or 2013 when I abandoned a climb in the Lake District after seeing Stony Cove Pike (only half a mile away from me) get hit by lightning and realised that it was a situation where discretion was the better part of valor. Checking the statistics, the USA was up to 8,736 cases and 149 deaths (up 1,118% and 473% respectively from when I started) and I concluded that I was going to need to get back to Blighty by whatever means necessary, even if I'd end up needing Embassy assistance.
And so I headed onwards on the trail until I got a phone signal again, at which point I called Zen from the hostel in Franklin, North Carolina and asked him if he could shuttle me back to civilisation and ultimately help me with getting from there back to Atlanta Airport if I could get a flight at some point. He was able to accommodate and I arranged to meet him down at Fontana Dam later in the day. I messaged my manager at work to enquire about getting my job back and made the difficult call to my mum (my number one fan, of course!) to say that I was done.
Then I plodded on, down to Yellow Creek Gap (2,936ft) and passing Cable Gap Shelter (2,883ft) and Walker Gap (3,451ft) before connecting with the Fontana Dam Road (1,746ft.) From there I headed down to the Marina, bought a six-pack of beer and sat outside drinking and consoling myself with some other thru-hikers, including one other Brit. They'd seen the email too of course, but had decided to press on. I've no idea how far they got in the end.
Zen ultimately picked me up from a bit further along the trail than the Marina itself and took me back to Franklin. In the less than 4 days since I was last there, most of the town had shut down. The restaurant where I got chilli-dogs and a free milkshake was closed. The free breakfast at the church hall was already a thing of the past. Zen was open for business but had his concerns about whether it was the right thing to do or not. The world had changed a lot and COVID-19 had affected everything, particularly Franklin as a "trail town" that saw a lot of people transiently going through it.
And at the point, I had to face facts: Insomnia was done with the trail for 2020. But I'd made the safest decision.
- Coming to the end of an adventure
- Fontana Dam Marina
- Beer!
AftermathThe day after I managed to get a flight booked and relaxed outside on Zen's porch, drinking beer with other thru-hikers, some of which were "taking a zero" (i.e.: not moving along the trail) as they waited to see whether the Coronavirus situation calmed down a bit. Others were like me and deliberately going off-trail. Others decided to carry on regardless. I ended up going on 3 different beer-runs that day to pass the time and got through 18 cans. I'm not, as many have observerd, a role model for others.
One of the thru-hikers that was heading home, Tracker, was able to give me a lift in the direction of Atlanta Airport. He was also giving another hiker, Bama, a lift home as they randomly discovered they lived in the same borough of their state. We stopped en-route for a Chick-fil-A and I contributed some gas money to him to say thanks.
At the airport I got chatting to an ex-pat Brit who had frequented some of the same areas of London as I used to when I lived there. He even donated a face mask and gloves to me which gave me a sense of security on the flight back to London Heathrow and for the rather dystopian London Underground ride from there to Waterloo where I got an overground train to where I had parked my car. Then from there I ultimately managed to get a place to live again, as well as my old job back. Sometimes I manage to land on my feet. Small mercies.
Since getting home I heard that there were a large number of closures on the AT that would have made continuing close to impossible:
- on 20th March, Maryland was closed all camping and Pennsylvania closed all their shelters
- on 23rd March, North Carolina announced numerous travel restrictions and the closure of all accommodation in Graham County
- on 26th March, Massachusetts banned overnight camping throughout the entire state; and Pennsylvania closed 10 miles of the AT to public access
- on 27th March, Georgia closed trailhead access in Chattahoochee National Forest
- on 28th March, West Virginia introduced restrictions near Harpers Ferry; also there were closures to over 50 shelters between Virginia and Maine
- on 30th March, North Carolina and Tennessee closed trailheads and access points to Nantanhala, Cherokee and Pishagh National Forests
- on 31st March, Virginia closed access points to George Washington and Jefferson National Forests
- on 1st April, North Carolina and Tennessee closed the entire Great Smoky Mountains National Park
- on 5th April, Virginia closed 27 miles of the AT
- on 7th April, New Jersey closed all state parks and forests; Vermont also closed numerous trails
- on 8th April, Virginia closed Shenendoah National Park
- on 9th April, Virginia closed Spy Rock and a further 19-mile section of the AT
- on 15th April, Maine closed Baxter State Park
- on 17th April, Virginia ordered people to stay away from the town of Damascus
- on 20th April, North Carolina announced a self-quarantine for anyone entering Graham County
... and so it will probably continue. A thru-hike wasn't going to be possible anyway. 2020 just wasn't meant to be for the AT.
I've said a few times since returning that the dream isn't dead... it's just indefinitely postponed. That's how I feel. I have unfinished business. I want to get out there and finish what I started. I may even start again from the Approach Trail to do the whole thing in one go. It's just a matter of when I get the chance to do what I should still be doing as I write this walk report.
I'm still happy with what I did, even if the feeling is bitter-sweet. In the words of Arnold Schwarzenegger, "I'll be back!"
This is me, Insomnia, signing out.