“I never thought you would make it.”

I set out in the morning with The Guy and Mr Grumpy. I liked hiking with them. They argued nonstop and I enjoyed hearing the constant back and forth. Plus their pace was good for me and our goals were aligned. They had begun their hike a full week before me with the ambitious goal of making it to Hot Springs, 273 miles into the trail. I am not really sure how they arrived at that goal…but I liked their gusto and we had all reduced our goals to a more reasonable GA/NC line at 79 miles and then on to the next road that intersected the trail to hike out (totaling about 85 miles). They had been taking the “scenic route” going into towns along the way, sleeping in hotels and dining (and drinking) in restaurants. Mr Grumpy clearly hated camping, the outdoors, all of nature, most people and just everything in general. I am exaggerating but it was clear that he wasn’t enjoying the lack of comforts on the trail. The Guy, on the other hand, was looking for someone to talk to since his buddy wasn’t engaging. We hiked through the day talking about random stuff – all planning to make it 16 miles to Plumorchard Gap Shelter before the rain set in (again).

We wore our rain gear most of the day (which for me meant I put on my 8 pound poncho and for Mr Grumpy meant he put on his bright purple version of the same. He looked like an angry Barney hiking through the forest). The Guy had a reasonable rain jacket and secretly coveted it (side note: Within 3 days of coming off the trail I had already purchased a new rain jacket from REI. Ponchos are ridiculous).

We hiked as fast as we could and never stopped for more than a couple of minutes at a time. Most of our conversations were about people we had met along the trail. I told them the stories from my previous nights…about Gear Guy and The Cop and Swiss Family Robinson. They had stories of their own…a “prophet” who had taken up residence in a shelter and the old man who gave them some “trail magic” – which in their case meant beer. Trail Magic is something that many of the AT hikers talk about – it means that someone leaves something or gives something to hikers as they come across a road. They might give them bananas or leave clean water or Cokes. I didn’t experience any of this but I dreamed of two scenarios – one was that someone would give me a banana and the second was that there would be pizza at the next shelter. I was disappointed on both.

We pulled into came at about 4:30pmjust ahead of the rain. As we walked into camp, a man turns toward us and recognizes me. “I was just talking about you!” he says. “I NEVER thought you would make it.” I immediately exchanged looks with The Guys, it was funny because they knew exactly who this was from my stories. Gear Guy. As we walked through the shelter area, Gear Guy peppered me with questions about my hike. Had I sent things home to lighten up my pack? How many miles had I covered each day? I think he was really disturbed that I had not lightened my pack but I had made it to the same place he had in the same about of time. I enjoyed watching him try to figure out how it was possible.

The Plumorchard shelter was large – with three levels or sleeping platforms – and it was filling up quick. Our party of three walked right through the shelter area and back to the campsites. We found one and set our tents up with the openings facing the center so we could all talk from our tents (we didn’t do this the night before and we were yelling to one another). I went up to the shelter to see if there was space for me to lay my wet clothes out to dry – since it looked like we were going to be facing another wet night. There was a whole cast of characters at the shelter…a mix of college-aged girls, father-son duos, random drifter hippy types. Gear Guy had amassed a small following of people who seemed to enjoy (or would endure) his endless advice. I put my things down on the top floor of the shelter and went to the spring to freshen up.

Freshening up was never quite satisfying. I would try to adhere to my skincare regiment. I would cleanse and tone and exfoliate and moisturize but the grime was just endless. I tried in vain to reduce my odor. It’s one of the things I was not totally prepared for…I had not really envisioned what a week without showering would look like (or smell like).

And then, the rain came. It absolutely poured. I jumped under the shelter to wait it out as more and more hikers arrived and set up their stuff. Eventually it became clear that there was not going to be space to spare for my stuff to dry so I climbed up to retrieve all my stuff and headed to my tent as soon as the rain let up.

As The Guys and I were preparing our dinner, Gear Guy comes walking up with my bra dangling from his fingers. “Think you dropped this.” Oh touché, Gear Guy.

We ate and climbed into our tents as the rain continued. It wasn’t long before I heard their snores mixing in with the sound of rain.