I headed out from Neels Gap for the remaining 11 or so miles to Low Gap Shelter. The terrain was kind today and with my new shoulder pads, I was ready to hike! The Cop and The Marine left with me and halfway up the climb out of the gap I noticed The Cop was right on my heels. It surprised me a little because I hike fast and he wasn’t a small guy. I could hear his sister in the distance, coughing and wheezing. I stopped for a second to rest and chatted with The Cop a bit. He was from Indiana and was carrying a handgun in his pocket. Interesting. His sister caught up and before I could take off again she announced she was turning around and going back to Neels to call someone to pick her up. She was done. Her last words were “take care of my baby brother” and she was gone. Ummm, what? My first thought was to turn and run. I wasn’t on this trip alone to be NOT alone. I didn’t want to “take care” of anyone. I took a deep breath and looked at The Cop. He shrugged and said “that's the right choice…I couldn’t make it for her, but it’s the right choice.” We turned toward the mountain ahead of us and began to climb.
A photo of the white trail blazes that mark your way while following th AT.
Over the next several hours I would learn about The Cop’s life. He had suffered a heart attack the previous year (he was 33) and had decided he needed to turn things around and be more active. He loved being a cop. He adored his family – he was doing this for them. His goal was to make it the first 100 miles. His more realistic goal was to make it to the North Carolina state line. His goal by the end of the day would be to make it out. The Cop was struggling. He had the heart to push himself but his body was not holding up. He had blisters on every toe and a new one arriving with every passing mile. His knees were hurting. His pack was actually pretty light because he wasn't carrying a tent – he had planned to stay only in shelters on his hike. So, over the course of the day our goals became clear…first, get him to a shelter for the night. Second, get him to the next road crossing so he could get out and head for home.
We passed the first shelter at 38.4 miles (a 9 mile hike from where we started the day). The Cop was done…ready to stop for the night. But I was not. I flashed back to my initial reaction to his company for the day…I was not out here for anyone but me. Would I sacrifice my plan to help him? It would mean doing the same thing the next day since we would be further still from the goal of getting him off the trail. We stopped to discuss our options. I wanted to go on – make it the remaining 5 miles to Low Gap and then have 10 miles the following day to reach the next road crossing. The Cop didn’t hesitate…he was coming with me. On we went. In the woods with a pack, you can typically rely on covering about 2 miles an hour. At best, we were facing another 2.5 hours of hiking. That was a dramatic understatement. The Cop hobbled. He crawled. He took every single step with a wince of pain. I tried to convince him to take his shoes off and walk barefoot or in his socks. I tried to get him to wear my Crocs. There was just so little anyone could do. Blisters are wicked. The are small and insignificant, they seem so silly – caused by friction. Friction? But here is the thing about blisters…they only get worse. Something the size of a pencil eraser can cause enough pain that you literally cannot go on. The poor Cop. I stopped every hour to wait for him and eventually he would come around the bend. Always wearing a pained smile. We developed a method of clicking our poles together twice as a signal. I would click mine to check on him and he would click his to respond that he was still moving forward.
We arrived at Low Gap Shelter just as it was getting dark. There was a great group already gathering. Swiss Family Robinson – a gorgeous blonde woman and her teenage niece and nephew (equally blonde and beautiful) and her cousin (again, no surprise – blonde and adorable). It was so wonderful to see these women in the woods. They were fearless and they had their shit together. They had made dinner and were playing cards with the kids. I really loved their company and they had a lot of tips for me (ie. How about you don’t “clean” your dishes in the dirty creek water? It’s call cross contamination. Good call!)
There were a couple of other characters at the shelter. Matthew – a 75 year old thru-hiker who was trying to hike the entire trail (from Springer Mountain in Georgia to Katahdin in Maine, over 2100 miles total) but had suffered several setbacks. He had been sick and come off the trail a few times. His wife was tracking him by minivan – meeting him wherever he needed help along the way. Then there was Alaska – a young guy from the Coast Guard who had just moved to Alaska and was back in the South to go to a wedding so he decided to have his girlfriend drop him off and he would hike to the wedding. It was a great little community and I was so happy to feel their positive energy.
The Cop walked directly into the shelter and basically fell over. He didn’t leave that spot for the night. In the shelters (which typically consist of a wooden platform with a roof and 3 walls and one wall completely open), people roll out their sleeping pads and bags and sleep shoulder to shoulder.
With the addition of The Cop, this shelter was a max capacity. The Swiss Family (party of 4), Alaska, Matthew and The Cop meant they were squeezing 7 people into a pretty tight space. I was planning to set up my tent regardless. I loved sleeping in my tent and having my own space. I set up close to the shelter and began making my dinner. I boiled some water and took it to the cop so he could eat too. I washed his bowl after he ate and after a brief discussion about how loud I would need to be to have he and his handgun at my service – he was snoring and I was in my tent. (Side note: snoring is an issue in the shelters, so bringing earplugs is advised)
In the middle of the night, I had to pee. I unzipped my tent and grabbed my headlamp. I looked out and could see several sets of red eyes looking back at me. All I could think about were wolves and coyotes (though it’s much more likely they were raccoons). I zipped my tent back up. NO WAY. But I had to pee and that wasn’t going to change. I had to get out of the tent. I unzipped and looked back out…still there. Nope, not happening. I re-zipped. There was only one option. I searched through my stuff and found my map. I dumped it out of its baggie and got into a sort of squat position. This was so risky! If I peed on anything I would smell like pee and would be wet for the rest of the week (absolutely NOTHING dries on the trail). And it was a snack size baggie! But I had waited too long and there was no time left to debate…I would have to rely on being dehydrated and having excellent aim. Success! I sealed my sample and put it in the corner of my tent. I slept soundly despite the wolves circling me and the urine in my tent.
Oh and ps. I would end up smelling like urine anyway.
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