Day 44: Mud Fields to 400 Miles

Great Breakfast Once Again

I did not want to wake up. Everyone in the hostel was up and moving by 6:30. I stayed in bed with my eyes closed until 7:20. I still didn’t want to move. The vortex is real. I would have been happy with another zero. No go, though. I packed as much as I could before heading up to the house for breakfast once again. 

I was there early and drank some cranberry juice. The others filtered in and, once again, the staff broke down what was on the table. They had a few of the same items, but at least half of it was different. I made sure I was as close to the front as possible and grabbed my fill. I sat down on the couch and began eating.

I conversed with some hikers I have never seen before. One of the ladies next to me said that her dream job was to be a park ranger and we had an in depth conversation about that. 

Heading Out

With my plate more than half finished, I knew that I was getting uncomfortably full. I haven’t really hiked with a full stomach, but I knew that it isn’t recommended. I couldn’t help myself, though. It was so good. I stood up and knew I made a mistake. Before leaving to grab my gear, Fine Young Buck asked if we could stop at mile marker 400 so all four of us could get a picture. I agreed and wobbled down the hill to the hostel.

After packing, I headed downstairs and rejoined with the guys. We cashed out and started hiking to the trailhead. After essentially two days of no hiking, I was kind of surprised by how I wasn’t weighed down by my pack. Granted, I only had two days worth of food. I remember in the beginning how much my pack felt like a burden. Now, I almost feel lost without its comforting weight. I’ve just grown so used to it that it’s a part of me.

We arrived at the trailhead and I lead the group up. After ten minutes of ups and downs, we got to a road where we could visibly see it connect to the highway. It wasn’t far at all. That’s the AT for ya! 

Muddy Trail

I stopped for water and let the others pass. I get anxiety when I lead a group hiking. I don’t like the mental feeling of close feet at my heels. The terrain changed from trees to grass fields. I would occasionally check my bare legs for ticks. The trail in this area was also extremely muddy. At one point, the trail was a fifteen foot wide mud field. I got to the start of it and exclaimed, “Come on!”

The mud field that was the trail. My feet were covered.

I looked ahead and saw that Fine Young Buck was leading the group. I have never seen that since he’s slower on the uphills. He was flying. I put my head down and continued on. We quickly moved back into the trees. It looked like this area had several new reroutes. I had a brief thought of seeing Fine Young Buck not take this detour and continuing on up the hill. No, I thought, it was marked well. He’d have seen it.

Mile 400

As a group, we continued on to our next destination: mile marker 400. While I haven’t actually hiked 400 miles due to closures or wanting to stick with the tramily, it still feels like a big milestone. I never envisioned how monumental achieving another hundred miles would be. Most would never do what it is I’m doing. I’m rarely proud in what I do, but this was a proud moment. 

I passed four 400 stick markers and didn’t come across Fine Young Buck or Kea. Sweeper was ahead of me and I caught up. We took a picture since the others didn’t stop. We rounded the corner and Kea was sitting by a stick sign saying 399. Somebody had a sense of humor. Fine Young Buck was nowhere to be seen. We took a picture and figured Fine Young Buck got lost. The others weren’t worried, but I was. A little bit. He’s a grown man.

Two Falls

Jones Falls came up quickly and I set my pack down before going on the spur trail. I felt intoxicated because I was suddenly 28 pounds lighter. My step had an extra bounce in it. Kea and Sweeper followed behind. We took our pictures upon arrival and headed back. 

Jones Falls

Next up was Mountaineer Falls. We walked along side a wide creek and I kept an eye out for possible swimming holes. I wasn’t going to get in, though. The high was only in the 50s. The trail went uphill and I mentally tuned out until a few miles later, when I head the distinct sound of falling water.

Mountaineer Falls

Mountaineer Falls was smaller than Jones Falls, but I was just glad to see them. Waterfalls are my thing and this trail has severely been lacking in them. We stopped at the shelter above the falls and got water. None of us were hungry. It took five miles for the nausea from eating too much to go away. I wasn’t going to eat any more. A couple of thru-hikers came through saying that a guy named Fine Young Buck was looking for us. Ten minutes later, he showed up. 

“You got lost didn’t you?”

“You got lost didn’t you?” I asked. He said that he made it to the top of the mountain before realizing that there was no more trail. He did end up going straight when we took a right. Apparently, he was so in the game, that his head was down and his glasses were fogged up. He had to turn around. He still thought we were behind him, so he waited at the 400 mile marker so we could get a picture. He was there for twenty minutes before he figured we must have passed him.

We sat around and discussed the next few days. The Boots Off Hostel has aqua blazing opportunities, so we looked into that. We only had 3.9 miles to go, so we continued on.

Trail Magic

Two miles later, we encountered some trail magic. I ate a banana and sipped on a Coke. The others seemed to be in a rush, so I hiked with the can of Coke. Fine Young Buck and I stayed together for a bit before he lagged back. 

Upper Laurel Fork Campsite 

I noticed that the trees were finally getting their leaves. Makes sense because yesterday was when the spring time allergy sneezes kicked in. It’s getting greener, but that means the green tunnel is forming.

When I began hearing flowing water, I knew I was there. We dispersed camped near the creek. One side was more dirt/mud and the other more sandy. All of it was flat. I took the sandy side. It was a nice campsite.

I did the usual camp chores before walking into the creek. It didn’t feel cold at all. That is, until I put my hands in. I washed the dirt off my legs and just stood in the water. The cold was doing great things to my joints.

Some were snacking while others ate dinner. I still wasn’t hungry, so I didn’t eat. Kea did slice up some summer sausage and kept handing me pieces, though. Fine Young Buck said I should eat to help with tomorrow, but I didn’t. 

I brushed my teeth and hung up my bag. The first time I tried lifting my bag off the ground, the entire branch gave way and fell to the Earth with a thud. It did look weak, so I made preparations beforehand to stay out of the way. It took several tries to get another hang restrung.

I walked back to camp and stood in the water some more. I watched as Fine Young Buck took off his socks and heard him groan about how smelly they were for only wearing them for six hours. I could smell them twenty feet away. I made fun of the smell and he joked back with me. Before long, I was shivering and walked to my tent. It was good night for me. I changed into my warm clothes and snuggled up in my quilt. Since we were in a valley with a water source, it was significantly colder. I could see my breath and it was in the low 50s. The water filter is sleeping with me tonight.