Gilligan on the AT Revisited: 17-May-1993

May 17, 2008

This is a 5-month long series of blog posts that are the entries in my journals written on most evenings as I hiked the Appalachian Trail in 1993. The journal entry appears first — indented — and then any additional commentary from my 15-years-removed perspective follows.

5/17/93 — Mon.

We made it to Rainbow Springs early this afternoon and rented a little cabin. Some surprising things have happened:

Troll twisted his right ankle, and then trussed up his boot laces so tight for support that he strained his left Achille’s tendon, so he made it here last night, stayed today, and is staying tomorrow. he is going ot meet his girlfriend in Wesser instead of Fontana Dam so he can really take it easy for a while. I talked to Julie (she’s in Sour Lake), and she is up for driving down to Wesser to meet me. My body is feeling the effects of ten days of tough hiking, so I am going to stick with Troll and take it easy for a bit.

We have finally decided that my boots are too small (nice move — I have an almost new $135 pair at home)… but Dad’s fit quite well. Potentially add the boots to the thinsulite jacket and Tilly Hat (things I have actively inherited).

Dad is probably going to go straight from here to Knoxville and buy a new ticket. Dan is probably going to go, too, and take a bus home. He really is a nice guy, so hopefully he and Dad will figure out some way to stay in touch.

Bushwack, who we had decided must be far behind us, took a shortcut on the Kimsey Creek Trail (7 miles vs. 25 miles) and got here yesterday. I have no idea what his plans are.

It does feel good to get off the trail for a bit, and I am excited at the prospect of seeing Julie so much sooner than I had planned. At the same time, I am sure that I want to continue hiking the A.t. Dan and Dad have had enough, but I am hooked. I have yet to see bears or rattlesnakes (Dan & Troll have both seen black bears — Dan has seen a rattlesnake, too), but hopefully that will change once I am on my own.

A stream flows over rocks nearby, making a sound not unlike radio static, yet very unlike it. It is a peaceful sound.

A light fog rolls in, brining with it the chill of the night.

Troll saw a good sunset. I have not…yet.

Posted in Appalachian Trail, Tim