Summary

The following was originally written in an e-mail to my high-school teacher Mr. Scanlon on May 1st. I have decided that it is a good summary of my hike, and worthy of publication. Here it is, with a few edits.

On January 12th I flew down to Mississippi to my girlfriend Margaret's house.  Her and her father drove me to Atlanta, Georgia, near the southern terminus of the Appalachian Trail.  On January 15th I began my long, long journey.  For two days, it was warm, which is what I expected so far south.  Then the Georgia mountains started to look more like the realm of Hades than the american south.  The temperatures dropped below 0 almost every night, and rarely rose above 20 (F) during the day.  A few inches of ice covered every surface.  On January 28th it got so cold (-15 degrees F with a 40-mph wind) in North Carolina that I didn't sleep at all, and in the morning I was quite hypothermic.  I walked 5 miles (it took me almost 5 hours I was so cold) to the top of a mountain, where there was a road and my cell phone worked, and I called for an evacuation.  Having had enough of winter, I got a ride back to a hostel I had stayed at in Georgia, where they allowed me to work-for-stay for a week, while things "warmed up".  During that week two feet of snow fell, and it did warm up - a little.  I set off again.  A week later, I came to the top of Shuckstack mountain near the Tennessee border, and looking back, decided that I had had enough.  It was still only 30 degrees, cloudy, dead, and desolate.  I was the only living thing for hundreds of miles.  The occasional squirrel would pop it's head out of a warm hole and look at me as if to say "What the hell are you doing you crazy bugger?  Don't you know it's WINTER?"  and so, realizing the silliness of my ways, I resolved to head home until Spring.  I took the greyhound bus, and now have a newfound respect for the Italian public transportation system.  It may not be as good as Germany, but it's cheap and you don't have to go all the way to Cleveland Ohio just to get to Massachusetts (thats about 800 miles out of the way).

While I was home in February the North East got hit with 4-10 feet of snow, depending on where you were.  I actually enjoyed it this time, since I didn't have to sleep in it, and managed to make some money by shoveling it for people.  This recovered what I'd spent to leave the trail.

On March 2nd my Dad offered to fly me back to where I had left off.  We had another little side adventure on the flight down in his small airplane, as we were rerouted by weather twice.  The whole trip took 3 days.  On March 5th my Dad hiked up Shuckstack mountain with me, and then headed back down the way we'd come.  He would go home, and I would continue.   My journey would be much improved.  It was sixty degrees out, and I had traveling companions this time -- 3 other hikers who we met the night before at the hotel we had stayed at.  Myself and my 3 companions hiked together for two beautiful days, and even formed a group which we called the "Fellowship of the Egg", a take on the Lord of The Rings.  Eggs are hikers favorite food in town, because they are cheap, full of protein, and delicious.  Sadly, on the third morning I was forced to leave the Fellowship of the Egg.  I had pulled a muscle in my leg (I thought) from hiking too hard, too far, too soon.  I had fallen out of shape during my brief hiatus, but I had expected to be able to come back to the trail and hike as if I had never left.  This was a mistake.  Sadly I said goodbye to my friends, and headed down a side trail towards the tourist town of Gatlinburg, Tennessee.  From there I took another greyhound bus to Margaret's house.  She had been planning on visiting me for her Spring break, but since I was injured and needed somewhere to heal up, it made more sense for me to visit her.  After yet another week I was walking around as if nothing had happened, and Margaret drove me back to the trail.  I made it one mile before my injury represented itself and I was forced to turn around.  Determined not to throw in the towel, I tagged along with someone who was being shuttled farther up the trail, beyond Great Smokey Mountain National Park, to a hostel called Standing Bear Farm.  There I met Curtis, the owner, a genuine tennessee hill billy and a genuinely nice guy.  I spent a week there before getting restless and deciding to hitchhike farther north with another hiker.  The two of us made it to Hot Springs, North Carolina, and Elmer's Sunnybank Inn, a Zen Retreat by winter and a hiker haven by summer.  Books were everywhere, and an all organic vegetarian meal was served everynight.  It was always delicious despite the lack of meat.  Three days in Hot Springs and it was time to move on again.  Bear with me... the story is coming to a close. 

I hitchiked to Erwin, Tennessee, and Miss Janet's House, another hiker hostel.  Miss Janet let me sleep in the hammock out back for free, and in exchange I helped with the chores.  I stayed for half a month, and met a lot of hikers, learned how to cook a little, and made a lot of friends.  Finally, I was driven to Asheville airport and I flew home once more, my long journey over -- for now.

Doctors have told me that I can expect to hike regularly again in June.  I probably won't go back to the trail, as I won't have enough time to finish, but I will certainly be involved in the trail community.  I plan to do "trail magic" in the area where the trail comes near to my own home.  Trail magic is something townfolk often do for hikers, taking warm hot meals out to places where the trail crosses a road, and feeding the hikers, taking their trash for them, and offering them rides into town.