March 29, 1997 (Day 10 – milepoint 91.2 – Albert Mountain)
After a peaceful rest, Ned and I got to moving again in the early afternoon. We were dry, the day was clear and sunny, and Ned demonstrated why his pursuit of a degree in Storytelling is such a good fit for him. I was just a kid at story time all day long. And since his stories filled the gap of time and miles so well, we arrived at a trail name for Ned – Void. He seems to like it.
The hiking was relatively mild today right up until the final two mile approach to the summit of Albert Mountain. The trail went practically straight up along the steepest pitch of the mountainside. We both had to strap our poles to our packs so we could scramble up on all fours. I’d like to congratulate and shake the hand of the person(s) who designed this section of trail. Creative, ambitious, and well worth the struggle.
The fire tower on top of Albert Mountain offers spectacular 360 degree views that were especially spectacular during sunset, casting shadows on the expansive Southern Appalachians. Old, rolling, weather-worn, blue-tinted mountains as far as the eye can see. I have officially declared my undying love for the Southern Appalachian Mountains.
Void and I set up camp in a tight spot with a view near Big Spring Shelter (mile 98). Nice, clear, starry night following the tail end of a bright orange sunset, town lights 2000 feet below, Hale-Bopp Comet clear and obvious. Full stomach, hot chocolate in hand. Easy company.
-Aquaholic
March 29, 2009
It’s good to be writing again. I wrote a lot throughout the 90′s – adventure chronicling, lots of poetry, children’s stories, an animated screen play – but it’s all been stored away in a tote box for 8 or 9 years.
Back then I was just a guy writing about my experiences. When suddenly I had to be responsible for others, I wasn’t ready to turn my writing hobby into a career. Now I find myself being magnetically drawn back to it.
I always wanted to do something meaningful with my Appalachian Trail journal, especially after I read Bill Bryson’s book, A Walk In The Woods, about his A.T. experience in 1998. A well-written and hilarious account of his excursion, it raised significant awareness around the A.T. and represents much of mainstream America’s perception of the Trail. When the Appalachian Trail comes up in conversation, I often hear comments like, “Oh yeah, I read the book.” They’re talking about A Walk In The Woods.
The irony is that his experience was dramatically different than my experience and, I would argue, most thru-hikers’ experiences. Every story is deeply personal. Most are as much a social adventure as they are a wilderness adventure. All are about reaching and then overcoming personal limitations. Bill Bryson’s experience was interesting and valuable, but far from what is typical of a Thru-hiker.
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