"Do you think that's the Georgia Oak?" asked jackrabbit. Seeing my blank look, she explained. "A nobo told me about it. He said there's an oak tree in 13ly Gap that marks the Georgia border for thru-hikers. I asked if there was a sign there, telling which tree it was. He just said, 'you'll know it when you see it "'
"I bet that's it, then. It's a pretty distinctive tree"
By the time we reached the oak, the rain had stopped completely. I took a picture of jackrabbit standing beside the tree. Over her shoulder, far to the south, I could see the clouds breaking up, a few patches of pale blue showing between the tattered hands of gray.
A quarter mile down the trail, we found a small wooden sign that said, simply, NC/GA. A little beyond that, we came to a side trail marked I'ien'point.
"Let's have a look at our new state, shall we?" I said.
We stepped through a thicket of rhododendrons and found ourselves on a small cliff, overlooking a series of low, gray hills. As we stood there, the first rays of sun broke through the clouds, warming our faces and making our jackets steam.
"I think I like Georgia," said jackrabbit, with a wan smile. "Maybe I'll make it after all."
By the time we reached Plum Orchard Gap Shelter, the clouds had vanished completely, and an evening star shone in the clear, pale sky.
As we stepped into the shelter clearing, a large dog came sashaying toward me, head tipped up and lips drawn back in what looked like a ferocious snarl. Close behind her stood a familiar, hulking figure in a plaid flannel shirt.
"Heald? Annie? Oh, wow. This is awesome. I thought you would have finished the Trail by now!"
"We did. Sort of," Heald answered. "Got within forty miles of Springer and decided to turn around. Too crowded down there this time of year. But this fellow," Heald jerked a thumb toward Lash, who stood beside him, grinning, "talked me into turning around again and hiking down to Springer with you guys„
"Oh, Heald! Thank you! It's so great to see you again!"
"Well, don't get too excited. I might change my mind," he answered, but I could see him smiling through the dusk.
We walked over to the shelter, an elegant, three-story building of recent construction, and introduced ourselves to the seven or eight northbounders already there. They seemed less eager to question us than the last group had been; perhaps Tim, Lash, and Heald had already satisfied their curiosity. After a few minutes' conversation with a slender, middle-aged woman who wanted to know how easy it was for vegetarians to find food in Trail towns, we sat down to cook supper with our sobo companions.
"Lash and I have a plan," Tim said, grinning as he stirred his Lipton dinner.
"No more horror stories," said jackrabbit, severely. (I hoped that no one could see my blush in the light of our stoves and candle lanterns.)
"Nothing like that," he said. "Don't worry. The plan is, well, we're only four miles from Dick's Creek Gap--"
"We'll get up really early-" Lash chimed in.
"Get to the gap by eight or nine, and hitch into Hiawassee for breakfast."
"Shoney's," said Lash. "Mmm, greasy town food. All-you-can-eat, man.'
"Mmm, breakfast," said jackrabbit, digging her spoon into our instant beans and rice. "I can hardly wait"
After dinner, I rolled out my sleeping bag on the third floor of the shelter, a narrow little attic with windows at either end. I thought I might have the space to myself, since the other sleeping platforms were much larger and easier to reach. Just as I got into my sleeping bag, though, a hugely overweight man, in his late fifties or early sixties, trundled up the ladder to the loft. I racked my brains for his trail name. It was the brand name of some alcoholic beverage. Heinekens? Bacardi? Coors Lite?Johnny Milker mould have hems clever, I thought, but it's not that. Finally I settled for a sleepy "hullo"
The ratan walked past me, acknowledging my presence with an unintelligible grunt. He rolled out his sleeping bag at the other end of the loft, got into it, and promptly began to snore. I was tired enough that no amount of noise would have kept me entirely awake, but his raucous, irregular snore woke me many times during the night. When the first light of dawn finally slipped through my window, I was more than ready to leave the shelter.
I sat up and began to brush my hair. From the platform below me, I heard Tim, Lash, and jackrabbit packing as quietly as they could-a soft rustle of plastic, a whispered question and response. At the other end of the loft, Captain Morgan or whatever his name was turned over with an enormous snort. A few minutes later, he sat up.
"I guess it's morning sottteitdtere in the world," he said in a loud, testy voice. "You and your friends must be in an awful hurry to get to town"
"I'm sorry we woke you tip," I whispered.
"Woke me up?" he roared. "You kept inc awake all night with your snoring!" He leaned over the edge of the platform, addressing the hikers below, all of whom were stirring now. "This girl snores like it freight train! I )id you people hear her? I didn't sleep a wink!"
We reached Dick's Creek Gap by eight-thirty, but hitching a ride on the small, rural highway proved far more difficult than we'd expected. A car passed every fifteen or twenty minutes, most of them going in the wrong direction. As the sun rose higher, traffic became a little heavier, but no one stopped for us. A few people even sped up when they saw five ragged hikers and a dog beside the road.
"All-you-can-eat breakfast, only ten minutes' drive away, and we're utiss- ing it!" moaned Lash. "I'm gonna faint if I don't get some food in my stomach soot]
"You just ate three granola bars," said jackrabbit.
"That was five minutes ago" He gave her a potty look. "And granola bars don't count, anyway. They're Trail food."
"Lash is right, man," Tim said. "We've been here for two hours, and we haven't had the least prospect of a ride. If we don't do something drastic, soon, we'll be too late for the Shoney's special." He paused dramatically. "Ladies, I have a plan, but I'm going to need your help with it"
Tim, Lash, Heald, and Annie went back across the road and walked about twenty yards into the forest. Jackrabbit and I stayed where we were, our thumbs out. Just for good measure, jackrabbit let her hair down. The first car to pass, a huge silver SUV, skidded to a halt in the trailhead parking lot.
"Thanks so much," I said to the driver, a well-groomed man with short gray hair. I turned around to help jackrabbit load her pack, and waved to the guys over her shoulder.
"Oh, hey," I said, doing my best to sound surprised. "There's some of our friends coming down the trail right now. Igo you think you could give them a lift, too?"
When he saw the three smelly, sweaty guys striding toward him, followed by a large orange dog, his smile faltered.
"Hey, ladies, fancy meeting you here!" Tim clapped me on the shoulder. "Looks like you've got yourselves a ride." I scowled at hint, but he smiled even more broadly as he turned to the driver. "Mind if we come along?"
"I'm not sure all of y'all will fit .. the man answered, sounding despondent. He knew he'd been had.
"Sure we will. Just watch us," Tim said, helping Annie clamber into the back of the vehicle.
We drove down the mountain in silence. I could feel myself blushing, and I was afraid that if I opened my mouth, I'd blurt out something horribly melodramatic. 1'in so sorry I deceived you! I ivouldn't have resorted to such tactics ... but we're so hungry ... "
About halfway to town, the driver spoke. "No offense, but ... y'all could really use a shower." It was the only thing he said to us, before dropping us off in front of the supermarket. We were too late for the Shoney's buffet.
"Well, here we are in Hiawassee," said Lash. "I hope it's a good Trail town, cause we may be here a few weeks if the hitching's as bad on the way out"
"We'll worry about that tomorrow," I told him. "Come on, let's get some food!"
Tiny and Heald waited in front of the store with Annie, while Lash, jackrabbit, and I went in search of lunch. We brought out a picnic of bread and cheese, cherry tomatoes, carrots, cide
r, oranges, donuts, apple pie, and a box of dog treats for Annie.
"You're spoilin' her," Heald growled, as we sat down against the warm brick wall of the store, safely upwind of the dirty socks that Tim had spread on the pavement to dry. "She won't be fit to hike"
We wolfed the food down and went back in to buy our resupplies. I was standing in the rice and pasta aisle, comparing the weight-to-calories ratios of two instant dinners, when I felt a light tap on my shoulder. I turned to see a fine-featured woman with short blond hair smiling up at me.
"I'm sorry to bother you, miss, but you wouldn't happen to be an Appalachian Trail hiker, would you?''
"My trail name's Isis," I said, holding out my hand. "['m hiking southbound with my sister, jackrabbit."
"Southbound! Did y'all hike all winter? Y'all must've had all kinds of adventures! Oh, I'm sorry, I'm forgetting my manners. My name's I )ee. Hiking the Trail has been a dream of ►nine for years and years. My husband I)an and I've been planning to hike it together ever since we got married. You wouldn't mind if I ask you a few questions, would you? I know you're busy, but its such a treat to meet a real thru-hiker"
By the time jackrabbit showed up, bearing a box of dried milk, a pound of butter, and a dozen candy bars, I)ee and I were deep in discussion about different methods of water purification. I introduced my sister, and soon she was telling I )ee about the wildlife we'd seen on the Trail, and how we protected our food from bears and mice.
"It's really great talking with y'all," 1)ee said after about twenty minutes. "I don't want this conversation to end. I hate to keep y'all, though. I know y'all've got some shopping to do"
"No, no, its been great to meet you," I said. I really had enjoyed talking with someone who was so interested in the Trail. Better still, I could see the light in jackrabbit's eyes and the way her shoulders straightened as she recounted our adventures to I )ee.
"Listen," said I )ee, "I hesitate to invite y'all, 'cause our cabin's not quite finished, and it's kind of a mess right now ... but I'd just love it if y'all could stay the night with me and I)an. I'd love for him to meet you, too."
"Thank you so much for the offer," I said. "1'd really like to. But we're hiking with three other people and a dog right now, and I kind of want to stay with them "
"They'd he welcome, too," said Dee. "There's plenty of room, but like I said, it's a bit messy:"
"Are you sure? I mean, we smell bad! And there's five of us! Will we even tit in your car?"
"It'll be tight, but we'll manage. Now, what do you want for supper? How about pasta? Is a pound each enough for you? I know hikers have big appetites."
I)ee's "unfinished cabin" turned out to be a lovely, spacious timber frame building perched on the bank of the Hiawassee River. In one corner of the living room, the flooring hadn't been laid yet, but there was no mess to speak of. Dan, a tall, powerfully built man with a white crew cut, showed us around the house. He was just as enthusiastic to meet us as Dee had been, asking about every aspect of our gear and our daily schedules.
I helped Dee make spaghetti while the others traded adventure stories with Dan. From the scraps of conversation I overheard, I found out that he had traveled some six thousand miles by canoe, down several rivers and through the Great Lakes system.
"That was my dream," I heard him say, "and I did it, a few years before I met Dee. "Now it's time for her dream to happen-hiking the Appalachian Trail."
I could tell that Dee heard him, too; a soft smile lit her face as she poured the sauce into the frying pan.
We slept on the living room floor in front of the fireplace. In the morning, Dee prepared us huge platters of eggs and toast. I scribbled my address on a scrap of paper and handed it to her as we left the house.
"Thanks for everything," I said. "And best of luck with your thru-hike. We can never repay your kindness, but when you guys get to Maine, please visit."
jackrabbit
ee's son Jeb drove us to the trailhead. Lash, Tim, Heald, and Annie crowded into the back of his pickup with our packs, and Isis and I sat up front. It was early; mist from the river still filled up the hollows.
"Thanks for the ride, Jeb," I said.
"Oh, it's no big deal. I love to be out in the mountains this time of day." He had a subtle north Georgia draw]. "This is one of the prettiest places on earth."
Watching the cloud-wreathed mountains, their wooded peaks reflecting the early sun, I had to agree.
"A lot of people want to come and live here," Jeb said. "Trouble is, there's just not enough jobs to go around. I'm a building contractor, and I hate to say it, but that's one of the few honest jobs there is in this county."
"So what do the rest of the people do?" I asked him.
"Well, these mountains are a good place for hiding things. Back during Prohibition there was a still on every hillside. These days, everybody and his brother grows pot"
"Well, they say it's the biggest cash crop in just about every state:"
"'Round here, it's about the only cash crop" He laughed. "It's so connmon, people don't hardly try to hide it. The sheriff knows everybody, and knows their business, but he's not the type to rock the boat. That's why he keeps getting reelected. There was just one time folks got in trouble for it."
The road came through a gap, and ahead of us the mountains were gilded with low sunlight. "Y'all hear about Eric Rudolph?"Jeb said.
"Yeah" Isis shuddered. "Wasn't he supposed to be hiding out in the mountains around here?"
"That was the rumor, anyway," Jeb said. "The E.B.1. sent some undercover people to town to check things out. Everybody knew who they were-a bunch of white guys in suits, driving brand-new fancy cars with county plates. Well, they stayed near on two years and didn't find a trace of the man. Guess they figured they had to do something to justify the time they'd spent here. They ended up having a grandscale pot bust" He laughed. "Just about twothirds of the adults in Hiawassee did time"
The trail climbed steeply out of Dick's Creek Gap, among thickets of rhododendrons and the furrowed trunks of tulip poplars. I thought I heard another car pull into the lot as Jeb's truck left, and voices far below us, but I couldn't be sure. We were walking barefoot, and it took all my concentration; the trail here was rougher than in the Nantahalas, with larger patches of gravel.
I kept expecting Lash and Tim, at least, to pass us, but no one came up the trail behind us. The first people we niet, in midmorning, were a pair of northbound women. One was tall and blond, the other shorter and dark-haired. They were impeccably dressed; hardly a speck of mud clung to their boots, and their cotton shirts looked freshly laundered and ironed. They were so new to the Trail that the rank hiker aroma had not yet begun to cling to them. (Suddenly the smallness of the remaining distance appeared in sharp relief. I tried to remember how far along the Trail I'd gotten before the hiker oink caught up with nee at Antlers Tentsite-forty miles? Fifty?) I could tell that these women were long-distance hikers only by their heavy packs.
"Good morning," said the blond woman. She had a delightful, slightly British-sounding accent.
"Morning," Isis said. "You guys thru-hiking?"
"Yes, indeed," said the brunette in the same charming accent. "That is, we hope so. It's much harder than I imagined" Dimples showed when she smiled.
"Oh, it gets easier when you've been out here a while," I said. "Where are you guys from?"
"Australia," said the blond.
"Wow. You came a long way," Isis said. "I hope you have a great hike."
"Thanks. We've certainly enjoyed it so far," the blond said. We exchanged a few more pleasantries and continued down the trail.
It was almost noon before the next people caught up with us: Spike and Caveman, slacking.
"Hi, guys," I said. "Where're your packs?"
"We decided to be minimalists for the last sixty-five miles," Caveman said (and once again I had the rushing sense of how short that distance was becoming). "We're just going to breathe air and drink a little water.
Then, when we reach Springer, we'll be light enough to simply ascend into the ether."
Spike whooped with laughter. "In the meantime, would you like some chips and hummus?" She dropped her fanny pack beside the trail.
I did my best Black Forest impression. "Do I have an ass?"
We sat at the roots of a huge oak tree and shared our lunches. Isis and I had brought more common Trail fare-crackers and cheese, dried fruit, granola bars-and the chips and hummus tasted great.
"What section are you guys slacking?" I asked.
"Dick's Creek Gap to Unicoi Gap," Caveman said.
Spike nodded. "The guy at our motel, the Hiawassee Inn? He's really hiker-friendly. He doesn't charge for shuttles or anything. Kind of a character, though. He's picking us up at Unicoi Gap tonight." She glanced at her watch. "Tim and Lash met us in the parking lot this morning, and they're coming too." She frowned. "I wonder what's taking them so long."
"I have a fair idea," I said. "Did you meet the Australians?"
"Oh, yeah. I bet you're right."
"Those two'll probably be in town tonight," I said. "It'd be interesting to see how things turn out."
"You guys could come, too," Spike said. "There's lots of room in the van"
"What time are you meeting him?"
"Five."
"If we are where I think we are, we'll have to make, like, three miles an hour to get there on time"
Just then, Tim and Lash came racing up the trail, packless.
"Dude! They said they were going into town tonight."
"They were too clean. Maybe we didn't hear right. Maybe they'd just left town." Tim sounded a little mournful. "But if they didn't ... Oh. Hi, guys," he said as he almost tripped over Caveman's long legs. "Barefoot Sisters! You coming to town?"
"Maybe," Isis said.
"Par-tay in Hiawassee" Tim gyrated his hips. "Come on! We don't wanna be late."
Barefoot Sisters: Southbound Page 57