Miles: 121.6 | Snow at breakfast, sun at Wayah Gap, and heartbreak halfway up the climb. When Michelin turns back, I keep going — alone, cold, and questioning everything. By nightfall, wind, condensation, and grief give way to a quiet realization under the stars: this is the moment I start hiking my hik
We woke up at Siler Bald to snow. Grumpy, I got up around 7:30am and started breaking down camp. We left, cold, and started hiking. Michelin immediately started feeling pain in his knee when we left camp. We took it slow and stayed together. Our morale was down and the foggy, low lying clouds were weighing me down. We tried to stay positive and sing some songs. It kind of helped, I suppose. We made it to Wayah Gap where there was no snow and the sun began to peek out. We began climbing out of the gap when Michelin started to groan about the pain. After about half a mile we had to sit down on the side of the trail. With tears and about half an hour of deliberation and snack eating, Michelin decided that he needed to turn back to the gap and go home. The pain was too much and we were afraid he might be doing more damage.
I went on without him and he went back to the gap to hitch a ride to town where he could get picked up to go home. I hiked over Wayah Bald in fog and at the top there was about 3" of snow. The fog wiped out the view. A tree with a white blaze had fallen across the trail near an intersection to a side trail. I got a little lost... thank goodness for the Guthook app and its GPS feature...
I made it 11 miles that day to camp at a high elevation gap. My Achilles hurt and my right knee started to get stiff due to my hip flexors being so tight. I hiked most of the day by myself. I stopped to get water before camp at a spring a little off trail.
When I came back up to the trail I met someone named Close Call. He was planning on staying at the same site as me that night. We talked tents, trail names, and muscle roller effectiveness for our last mile to camp. The day had been cold and snowy but relatively sunny.
I set up my tent quickly as the wind picked up. It was really cold so I changed as quickly as possible into my camp clothes. I cooked in the vestibule of my tent (a bit risky but all was fine). The mac and cheese I made got stuck to the bottom of my pot. I made some phone calls for support. I had cried on and off all day. It was strange to truly be alone for the first time since I started really. I got really homesick. And questioned my capabilities.
I called Whisperer, who we were supposed to meet up with at Fontana to tell him it would be just me meeting him. He immediately suggested he’d turn around so I wouldn’t have to be alone. I told him not to. I felt like I needed a day on my own to process what was going on and everything that had happened. He said he’d turn around and he wouldn’t take no for an answer. He just told me to head toward the Nantahala Outdoor Center (NOC which was 16 miles away) and he would met me there.
Emotionally and physically exhausted, I tried to go to bed. I couldn’t sleep. Once again, I was busy trying to keep my sleeping bag from touching the sides of my tent... condensation was quickly becoming my enemy. Whistling wind blew all night. It was (excuse my language) FUCKING FREEZING. In my bag I was ok but I couldn’t move much and I had a hard time getting comfortable.
Around 2am I got up to go pee and saw across the ridge the lights of some town off in the distance. The fog had cleared and the stars were out. As I stood out in the windy night I finally started to feel at peace with being alone. I was calm for a moment and I realized I didn’t really want to be attached to someone else. I wanted to start hiking my own hike for real. I wanted to do the miles I want to do when I want to do them. I want to go into town less and go when and where I want to go. I wanted to take more control and do my own thing. Regardless of the company that I keep doing so. I went back to bed with all of this on my mind.