Mooooore downhill. God what was I thinking? I could be resting right now. No no no, that is exactly why you are doing this, to push yourself beyond what you normally would do. To find out something new. To engage your own mind at its extreme… yeah, sounds all well and good but, in the moment, the extreme sucks.
But the point is I carried on. Before I knew it I was a couple miles away from the campsite anyway, so it wouldn’t make much sense to turn back anyway. Keep rollin’, rollin’ rollin’…
Now my feet were killing me. The blisters were really hurting me now, my right foot particularly bad. I didn’t want to take off my shoes and socks and let them dry though. I didn’t have the time, and plus I thought that if I stopped and sat down for awhile, my muscles would freeze up and that would be it.
So I continue on. I hit a particularly steep downhill section, and occasionally found myself trotting down the trail because of my downward momentum. Down and down I go and in the distance… what’s that? The sky? It looks blue. Is there a big dropoff? As I got closer and closer, my perspective changed but still I couldn’t make out what it was. It was only when I practically was there that I realized it was, in fact, a lake. I walked down to the edge, curious. The path just seemed to stop at the water’s edge. I looked around for any possible alternative route. None. I checked the map. Wait there’s not supposed to be a…
FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCKKKKK!!!!
I lost it. I yelled out FUCK several times. I told the lake to go fuck itself. Threw rocks and sticks in it. And just shouted out other nonsensical vocalizations. Somehow I had gone off the path… but how? I kept following the same path from the campsite? There were no turns, were there??
Knowing that I probably was not being asked by the powers that be at Smoky Mountain Park to swim through the lake, I began backtracking. Not just backtracking. Backtrackin uphill. It was steep. I was tired. Stupid gravity. Damn you relentless laws of physics.
I looked from left to right to see if there were any other paths. I eventually came across what looked like a path to my right. It was narrow, but definitely a path. I looked around for a sign, and finally found one, its visual path blocked by a tree. When I hike I mostly look down at what’s in front of me so that I won’t trip or roll my ankle. In doing so, I missed the sign and continued on. But it bothered me… you have to turn to stay on the correct trail?? What the hell is that about?? Bah!
The only good news was that I had gone only a mile, maybe a mile and half out of the way. Add up both ways and that’s 2 to 3 miles. Bad, yes, but if could have been much worse considering the state I was in.
So I turn onto the trail to stay on the trail I was already on, and soon after see another sign saying that I was only 2.6 miles from the trailhead. I remember reading that sign and feeling rejuvenated. I was going to do it. 2.6 miles is nothing. An hour maybe. The happiness from seeing that sign would surely be enough fuel for me to finish the hike alive.
Not a few steps from the sign and I hear a clap of thunder. Then another. Several in succession. The clouds were doing their own version of Stomp. It was really dark out now, and the wind was picking up. Shit. I put down my pack to begin my waterproofing process. I read that it did rain a lot in the Smokies, especially at the peaks, so I made sure to bring a poncho with me. The backpack I had came with a waterproof cover that could be wrapped around it as well. If it rained, it would be an inconvenience for sure, but I could manage.
But as if I put my pack down on the rain button, it started pouring as soon as it touched the ground. Not just pouring. It was torrential. The kind of rain where you can’t see but a few feet in front of you. I scrambled through the pack to find the poncho. Where the hell is it??? I reached down, grabbing for anything that felt rubbery. My cooking pot fell out onto the ground. Shit! I found the poncho and put in on, and then stuffed the pot back in, it’s handle now sticking out from the top. Reaching around in my bag, I had shifted items from their carefully packaged positions, and now the pot didn’t fit into the puzzle anymore. Fuck it, it’s just the handle. I quickly covered my pack as well in its waterproof layer, but it was already soaked. Lovely.
When I was waterproofed I stood up, and looked around me for a little bit. It was a really cool setting actually. From a distance, the torrential rain looked like mist instead of water, and so it looked like the woods were foggy and mysterious. I thought wow this is awesome. This is nature, man.
That feeling of communion with nature lasted about 5 seconds. It was before I realized that I had to hike in this. I was still going downhill, and the rain had turned the trail into rivers. The trail was no longer solid, and my feet stuck in the ground a little bit, making each step that much more difficult. And my feet, oh god my feet, were screaming in pain. The fresh water felt like acid for some reason. As I was walking I felt one of my blisters burst on the second toe of my right foot, and it began throbbing in unbelievable pain. Jeez I didn’t know blisters could hurt that much. The next few steps were agonizing, but I didn’t care. I had to continue. How could I stop now? In the middle of the trail in the rain I’d set up a tent and call it a night?
The rain had no plans to stop. My face turned into a permanent grimace. The pain in my foot, though still potent, eventually faded as my body grew used to it. My pace had considerably slowed, so I had no idea how long it was going to take. In my condition I lost track of how long I had been walking and what pace I was on, so I had no idea how long I had hiked since the last sign. I could only hope for the best.
After about 10 hours according to my compromised perception, I saw a sign that said it was only .7 miles to the trailhead. FINALLY. FINALLY FINALLY FINALLY!! .7 miles even in the rain, even with my blisters, even with my fatigue, was going to be easy. My spirit was lifted by the knowledge that this was soon going to be over.
I started to chuckle. Then it became a laugh, then an outright explosion of joy. I hunched over, hands on knees, cause the laughing was hurting my already sore back, but I continued anyway. I was incredibly happy. I didn’t think of how stupid I was, or how this situation, for the most part, was my own doing and that I should go in for a CAT scan upon my return. I was just happy that it was almost over.
I pulled myself together and marched onward, almost having forgotten the pain in my right foot. I came to the tunnel at the beginning of the trail and was finally sheltered from the rain. By the time I reached the opposite end of the tunnel the rain had stopped. Thanks a lot mother nature, a little late aren’t we? Oh well at least I’ll be able to change into some dry clothes when I get back to my car.
My car! I was never so happy to see my lil’ Ford Focus. I heaved myself against the side of the car and breathed a deep breath. I threw my backpack down as to blame it for my pain and searched my car for some dry clothes. I stripped down right there in the open. There probably was no one around the parking lot, but I wouldn’t have cared if there was. I put on some dry clothes and felt 1000% better. Then I took my shoes off and got a look and the tragedy I forced upon them. I don’t think I should really go into details, but I do have pictures if you really are that interested to know. Yeah you heard me, I took pictures. This needed to be recorded.
After I was fully clothed I started out to the nearest hotel. There had to be one somewhere close. I know I saw a few in Bryson City (the town closest to the trailhead). There was probably one cheap there… whoa!
eeerrRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
Slammed on the breaks. What the…?
Turkeys! There were wild turkeys blocking the road. Two of them. Unaffected by the noise of my breaks, they slowly turned their floppy heads towards me and proceeded to… do absolutely nothing! They weren’t moving, at all. AT ALL. I inched closer. Nothing. I honked a few times. Nothing.
AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!
But instead of being mad, I had to laugh. This wasn’t so bad compared to what happened to me earlier. I’m in my car. I’ve got a Gatorade. The air-conditioning is on. Soon I was going to be sleeping in a soft bed. All the things I usually take for granted came rushing to my mind as if they were luxuries, instead of daily expectations.
After a few minutes they decided to attend to whatever turkeys do while not on paved roads. As I drove by I gave their backsides the finger... in retrospect, I agree, very immature. They were just being turkeys after all. I was just being human.
I eventually did make it to a hotel and eventually fell asleep. It was a long day. Almost 21 miles over 10 hours with wet feet. It’s a few weeks after the fact now, and my right foot still has not fully recovered.
So was it worth it? Did I find what I was looking for? Tough to say. But it does make for a good story, and that is certainly worth something.
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