I stopped by REI Thursday night after realizing I'd be doing this trip solo.
"Can I help you find anything?" asked a perky salesgirl.
"Yes, I'm looking for a compass. And a knife. And, um... I don't know, I was supposed to go backpacking with my boyfriend tomorrow, but that relationship ended last night, but I still want to go, but I don't know what I need..." My eyes are filling with tears.
"Oh honey..." She says. "I have a degree in psychology, AND I can help you get set up for backpacking." And what followed was a lovely conversation.
This little breakdown at REI pretty much set the tone for the whole trip. There was traffic on the way down. I got to the national forest where I'd be camping around 11:00, and the street signs didn't match my map. (My map had numbers, and the signs had names. Really???) Supposedly I could camp off of any gravel road, but there were NO gravel roads. Finally I was relieved to see a sign for a campground in 11 miles. After 11 miles of steep and windy mountain roads, I discovered that the campground was closed. I finally just burst into tears.
My only option was going back to the nearest town and paying $85 to get a hotel room at 1:30 a.m. The only good part of the whole thing was that the night clerk reminded me of a Will Ferrell character. I prolonged the conversation because I was so fascinated.
After sleeping in the next morning, I pulled on my hiking pants only to discover that they are tight. Way too tight. Obscenely tight. Just how much weight have I gained recently?? Not a good thing to be contemplating in my fragile emotional state. I should not be wearing these in public. Good thing the trail I'd planned on is known for solitude. It was also clear over on the other side of the park.
By 3:00, I admitted defeat. I could not find the trailhead. The only option is that it was down the road with the big "Road Closed" sign.
At this point, I decided to get some food, go find a campsite, re-center myself, and try again tomorrow.
The national forest campsites that appear to be a hop, skip, and a jump away from the park actually took almost two hours to reach. I considered my options... I planned on camping in the national forest because it's free (versus $17/night in the park). But is it worth all the time and gas money? Probably not. Problem is, I already spent all my extra money on that luxurious king size bed the night before.
Then I re-checked the weather forecast. It had changed: rain, rain, and more rain. And cold! Lows in the 20's! My sleeping bag is only good down to 40 degrees!
I thought, "Okay, go hiking tomorrow, then head home Monday." But upon visiting the Smoky Mountains website, I discover that the road to the trails I want to do is closed due to a LANDSLIDE.
Isn't a landslide considered an act of God by insurance companies? At this point, I decided that perhaps this trip was just not meant to be. EVERYTHING was working against me. I thought of going to Charleston or Daytona, but that would mean more gas money and a longer trip back.
It was time to go home.
I did enjoy my one night of camping and made the most of it: read a book on my Kindle while listening to Bon Iver, started my very first fire, and enjoyed the absolute quiet (which changed to the sound of rain overnight). I was quite excited that my homemade fire starters worked; my inner Martha Stewart and mountain woman were able to work together on that one.
I also explored a bit in the rhododendron (third picture) and discovered that the area called Huggins Hell is aptly named. I was going to hike that route up to Myrtle Point, but I had heard the rhododendron is out of control, and in that particular area, a man named Huggins had gotten lost in it and wandered around for three days. After coming face to face with this stuff, I quickly decided that I did not want to be hiking off-trail by myself through it.
This morning I woke up early and headed to the park. I needed to at least stop by the visitor's center to get a stamp in my new passport book. Once there, I felt reluctant to leave and decided to go see Cade's Cove, one of the most popular spots in the park. Bad idea. Yes, it was pretty. I was reminded of how the Smoky Mountains got their name. But there are no leaves on the trees yet, so everything still looked brown and dead. And the road rage I experienced while dealing with the other motorists outweighed any of the surrounding beauty. I took the shortcut and got the heck out of there.
The best part of today was stopping at Mellow Mushroom in Lexington on the way home.
So, to sum up my trip: raincoldstupidtouristseverythingclosedraincold
F- you, Smoky Mountains. F-. You.
"Can I help you find anything?" asked a perky salesgirl.
"Yes, I'm looking for a compass. And a knife. And, um... I don't know, I was supposed to go backpacking with my boyfriend tomorrow, but that relationship ended last night, but I still want to go, but I don't know what I need..." My eyes are filling with tears.
"Oh honey..." She says. "I have a degree in psychology, AND I can help you get set up for backpacking." And what followed was a lovely conversation.
This little breakdown at REI pretty much set the tone for the whole trip. There was traffic on the way down. I got to the national forest where I'd be camping around 11:00, and the street signs didn't match my map. (My map had numbers, and the signs had names. Really???) Supposedly I could camp off of any gravel road, but there were NO gravel roads. Finally I was relieved to see a sign for a campground in 11 miles. After 11 miles of steep and windy mountain roads, I discovered that the campground was closed. I finally just burst into tears.
My only option was going back to the nearest town and paying $85 to get a hotel room at 1:30 a.m. The only good part of the whole thing was that the night clerk reminded me of a Will Ferrell character. I prolonged the conversation because I was so fascinated.
After sleeping in the next morning, I pulled on my hiking pants only to discover that they are tight. Way too tight. Obscenely tight. Just how much weight have I gained recently?? Not a good thing to be contemplating in my fragile emotional state. I should not be wearing these in public. Good thing the trail I'd planned on is known for solitude. It was also clear over on the other side of the park.
By 3:00, I admitted defeat. I could not find the trailhead. The only option is that it was down the road with the big "Road Closed" sign.
At this point, I decided to get some food, go find a campsite, re-center myself, and try again tomorrow.
The national forest campsites that appear to be a hop, skip, and a jump away from the park actually took almost two hours to reach. I considered my options... I planned on camping in the national forest because it's free (versus $17/night in the park). But is it worth all the time and gas money? Probably not. Problem is, I already spent all my extra money on that luxurious king size bed the night before.
Then I re-checked the weather forecast. It had changed: rain, rain, and more rain. And cold! Lows in the 20's! My sleeping bag is only good down to 40 degrees!
I thought, "Okay, go hiking tomorrow, then head home Monday." But upon visiting the Smoky Mountains website, I discover that the road to the trails I want to do is closed due to a LANDSLIDE.
Isn't a landslide considered an act of God by insurance companies? At this point, I decided that perhaps this trip was just not meant to be. EVERYTHING was working against me. I thought of going to Charleston or Daytona, but that would mean more gas money and a longer trip back.
It was time to go home.
I did enjoy my one night of camping and made the most of it: read a book on my Kindle while listening to Bon Iver, started my very first fire, and enjoyed the absolute quiet (which changed to the sound of rain overnight). I was quite excited that my homemade fire starters worked; my inner Martha Stewart and mountain woman were able to work together on that one.
I also explored a bit in the rhododendron (third picture) and discovered that the area called Huggins Hell is aptly named. I was going to hike that route up to Myrtle Point, but I had heard the rhododendron is out of control, and in that particular area, a man named Huggins had gotten lost in it and wandered around for three days. After coming face to face with this stuff, I quickly decided that I did not want to be hiking off-trail by myself through it.
This morning I woke up early and headed to the park. I needed to at least stop by the visitor's center to get a stamp in my new passport book. Once there, I felt reluctant to leave and decided to go see Cade's Cove, one of the most popular spots in the park. Bad idea. Yes, it was pretty. I was reminded of how the Smoky Mountains got their name. But there are no leaves on the trees yet, so everything still looked brown and dead. And the road rage I experienced while dealing with the other motorists outweighed any of the surrounding beauty. I took the shortcut and got the heck out of there.
The best part of today was stopping at Mellow Mushroom in Lexington on the way home.
So, to sum up my trip: raincoldstupidtouristseverythingclosedraincold
F- you, Smoky Mountains. F-. You.
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