Day 1: April 4, 2021
Springer Mountain to Hawk Mountain Shelter - 8.1 Miles
Dad and I got up at o’dark o’clock and packed our things. While he thew his stuff into his suitcase, packing for me was a bit more involved. Hiking the Appalachian Trail is not as easy as throwing a backpack over your shoulder and heading out.
Part of planning to hike the AT includes finding the right backpack, and my pack was the first piece of gear I bought. Thanks to a gift card and a Labor Day sale, I got a nice Osprey Aura 65L for $235. It’s key to find a pack that has the right balance of form, fit and function. I was set on the Osprey after watching videos of another AT thru hiker (trail name Dixie) and hearing what she liked about that brand. Still, it’s important to choose the right pack for your body, so we spent some time with the specialists at REI trying different brands and sizes. For each pack, they had to adjust it for my size and frame. It’s critical to have the pack sit properly on your hips or you’ll rub the skin off when you’re hiking. There’s also a frame that is sized to your back, and if the pack doesn’t line up well with your shoulders, you’ll end up in too much pain to get very far. I was stuck between two packs, but I picked the Osprey because I thought it would be more durable in the long run. I wanted something that would last the entire hike.
Now in the hotel, I put my gear in my backpack just like I had practiced at home. First, I filled my three-liter bladder with water and slid it into the inside pocket of my pack, threading the hose up through the shoulder strap so I could drink while I hiked. Then the lighter weight items (sleeping bag, sleeping pad and tent) on the bottom, food in the middle, and clothes on top. If you put the heavier things on the bottom, you’ll put too much pressure on your hips causing excess pain and potential chafing. Conversely, too much weight at the top of your pack will end up hurting your neck and shoulders.
My dad had taken me to the grocery store the day before, and I bought enough food to last four days and three nights. I also packed just enough toilet paper to cover that time period. My next resupply opportunity was approximately 30 miles away at Neel Gap.
Now I’m all packed and I’m ready to go; there’s just one problem. In all my planning, I had never even considered being afraid to start the trail. I hadn’t even set foot on the AT, and I had never been more scared in my life. I was afraid of failing. I was afraid of being by myself. I was afraid of everything, but I didn’t want to prove all the naysayers right before I even gave it a shot. So, I put on the “last suit I’d ever wear” and slung my heavy blue pack over my shoulder.
We walked out of the hotel to the rental car and stopped in our tracks when we saw a thin layer of frost coating the windshield. Dad and I looked at one another and I thought it’s a lot colder out here than I realized.
On the way to Springer Mountain, I sat in the car and cried, not realizing how hard it was on my dad to see me this way. Before I knew it, we were there.
The Appalachian Trail doesn’t always make the most sense and it’s sometimes hard to put into words. So, bear with me just a moment.
The AT officially starts at Springer Mountain in Georgia; however, there’s an eight-mile approach trail at the iconic archway at Amicolola Falls State Park. While I wanted to have Dad take my picture at Amicolola, we didn’t have enough time before he had to get back to the airport.
Now, in order to get to the top of Springer Mountain and another iconic location – the plaque – I actually had to hike one mile south of the parking lot to the summit before I would continue my hike north. I wasn’t ready to let my dad go just yet, so he stayed with me a bit longer
I left my pack in the car, and we set out walking single file on a narrow trail decorated with rocks and roots protruding from everywhere, ready to grab unsuspecting feet. Then I saw it, and for a brief moment I felt excitement instead of anxiety. Painted on one of the trees I saw a 2X6 inch white stripe. The infamous white blaze of the Appalachian Trail.
When we got to the summit of Springer Mountain, we FaceTimed with my mom. My dad turned the camera around so she could me. Through tears, I placed my hand on the plaque and my AT hike was officially underway. I found a paper notebook lodged in a nook and I picked it up. Mine was the first entry of the day, and I knew just what to write. I scribbled down the date and a quote from my favorite movie Mad Max Fury Road. “Oh, what a day, what a lovely day!”
We said goodbye to Mom, and Dad and I hiked back toward the parking lot so I could get my pack from the car.
There wasn’t a dry eye between either of us and Dad said, “We have to make this quick or I’m never going to be able to do this.”
He had noticed someone who looked “official” wearing a khaki shirt and talking to other people. Dad walked me over to him and, for lack of better wording, shoved me toward him and walked away.
The man introduced himself as Mountain Squid.
He said, “Hey there, what’s your name?”
As I watched my dad drive away, I choked out, “I don’t have a trail name yet.”
"That's OK," he said. "I'll jot down your name and the next time I see you I'll just change it in my little notepad to your trail name." He mentioned that I would probably see him in Tennessee, although I don’t remember where or why.
“Um…it’s Ella.”
“Alright, Ella. Welcome to the Appalachian Trail. Congratulations on hiking your first mile! I’ve made a one-mile marker out of rock just over there,” he pointed to the other side of the parking lot.
With that, I was off. I saw the sign that Mountain Squid was talking about, and it made me happy.
Less than two miles in I crossed a small stream, and the sound of the water felt so relaxing. I found a small flat patch of ground near the water, and I took off my pack. I sat down and began stretching and breathing to the sound of the water. I knew I was going to be alright!
As I sat there stretching, a hiker crossed the stream and looked my way. He had an elegant mustache and a fantastic smile.
“Hi! Are you a thru hiker?” he asked.
“I am! I just wanted to stretch while listening to the water. What about you?”
“Yep! I’ll be staying at Hawk Mountain Shelter tonight. You?” he asked.
“That’s where I’ll be too. Hopefully, I’ll see you there.”
He waved goodbye and continued hiking.
After I was done with my break by the creek, my head felt a lot clearer. I was in a spot where I had some cell service, and I called my mom. My brother hopped on the call as well. I knew my dad had told them I wasn’t doing well, so it was important for me to make sure they knew I was going to be OK. It was hard to believe that 2 miles ago I was a sobbing mess but, in that moment, I was feeling great. I got off the phone with my family and continued on.
I stopped to take a break at Stover Creek Shelter. This was my first time seeing a shelter and it was surprisingly nice. I had read about the rickety lean-tos scattered along the trail, but this was no ordinary lean-to! It was a double-decker shelter with a ladder leading to the second story. It looked like a cabin, but it only had three walls. Right out front there was a wooden picnic bench, and it felt like a good place to sit for a while and write in my journal. I wasn’t tired from the hike, and I was enjoying taking a nice slow stroll in the woods. I wasn’t there for long before a man hiked up to the shelter. He greeted me and I him, and he sat down to catch his breath.
“Man, this hike is already killing me! It’s been tricky adjusting to the altitude,” he said between breaths.
“Oh yeah? Where are you from?” I asked.
“Michigan,” he said.
“Ah, I get it,” I said realizing this was high altitude for him.
“Where are you from? You don’t seem tired at all.”
“Colorado,” I said.
“Well, that explains it. This is nothing for you.”
I didn’t want to sound arrogant, but he wasn’t wrong. Coming from Colorado, I had barely noticed this “climb”. I did concede, “I might not notice the altitude, but I’m not used to carrying a big heavy pack.”
We agreed on that. He told me his name was Mike and we chatted for a little bit longer before he left. I was content to sit here a little while longer and enjoy the silence.
By 2:00, I had hit my eight-mile goal and arrived at Hawk Mountain Shelter. My research told me this was a good pace to minimize injury and get you used to hiking all day with a pack.
It felt odd to be done hiking so early in the day, but I wasn't alone. There was already a small group of hikers gathering in front of the shelter, two of whom I had already met: the mustache man, whose name was Zac, and Michigan Mike. We all chatted, talking about how the day went and how excited we were to finally be here. Then some of the hikers got antsy and continued hiking to the next shelter, claiming the day was too short for their liking.
More hikers started to arrive, so those of us gathered at the shelter decided it was probably best to claim a camping spot before the area filled up. I found a nice patch of flat ground behind the shelter, and I set up my tent. I was very comfortable setting up camp because I practiced so much at home. I laid out my tent’s footprint. This is a layer of material you put underneath your tent that provides a little bit of protection from sticks, rocks, or water. Next, I layered my tent body over the footprint and staked down all four corners. I assembled my poles and erected my tent, easily attaching the hooks on the tent to the poles. I spread my rain fly over my tent and staked that down as well. This layer would protect me from wind and rain. I crawled in and began to blow up my inflatable sleeping pad and then topped it with my sleeping bag.
A young woman found a good spot to camp near me. She had a hammock and strung it up between two nearby trees. Some hikers on the AT choose to use a hammock to camp instead of using a tent.
The two of us talked for a little while and I invited her to come join the group, but she seemed shy and content to stay in her hammock. I never saw her again.
I grabbed my food bag and walked over to the shelter where everyone else was gathering. I was excited to meet as many people as possible. There were hikers of all kinds: young and old, fit and fat, men and women. There was even a dog!
I found a spot at the picnic table and began “cooking” my dinner. I ate the heaviest thing in my food bag, as did most other people. This was a strategy everyone quickly picked up on; if I eat the heaviest thing tonight, then I don’t have to carry it tomorrow. I had found some jackfruit stew at the grocery store that you can warm up in the packaging by putting the whole bag in a pot of boiling water.
After dinner, I found a seat on a log. Michigan Mike sat down next to me and leaned in.
“I really want to get a fire going but I’m too tired to start one. Do you think I could convince anyone to do it for me?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” I laughed, “I would, but my fire making skills aren’t too good.” I may have fibbed a little there. I can make a fire just fine, but I didn’t want to look for wood and then lock myself into babysitting it all night.
Mike adjusted his position and started, quite loudly, expressing how nice it would be to have a fire. No one was taking the bait, though.
Someone said, “Oh yeah? If you want one so bad, why don’t you make it.”
Eventually, a fire was made but it was not made by Mike.
As the sun began to sink low in the sky, people slowly started to call it a night.
Even though it was only around 8:00 when I went to bed, I was awake until 10:00 since I was still on a regular sleep schedule. As my eyes started to get heavy and I began to doze off, I was suddenly jolted awake by what sounded like rapid gunfire. I had shot enough guns to know the difference between that and fireworks. It only happened once and by the sound of it, I knew it wasn’t in camp, but it was still too close for comfort. I listened for the sound of the other hikers to start doing something, but I found solace in the silence of camp. If no one else felt the need to pack up and run, then I was going to be OK. As my heart rate dropped to a normal level again, I drifted into one of the best nights of sleep I’ve ever had.
Next time on Packing It In: I get to know more of the people hiking around me and I begin to form new friendships.
Your video of yourself reminded me of that time you were called a “little dude” by someone (although I don’t remember who 😂)