10/10/2010
Brent and I woke up around six a.m., but it was still too dark to see to pack up the camp. We decided to stay in our tent until it was light enough outside to see. Around seven a.m., we finally ventured out of our tent. Instead of following Brent's example and finding a bush to hide behind so that I could relieve myself, I choose to hike up the steep 200 yard incline to use the restroom at the main rental office. It was a tough hike up and down, but it was well worth it! When I returned to the camp site, I discovered Brent had prepared a Mountain House egg and bacon breakfast. Despite the negative reviews on this stuff, I found it was quite adequate for a meal in which you just add hot water in order to prepare it! It tasted similar to the eggs you get at Denny's and provided 29 grams of protein, which I greatly needed to keep my blood sugar from dropping too low. After breakfast, we quickly packed camp and hiked up the steep incline to our vehicle.
We drove into Hot Springs and parked our Jeep in the public parking lot near Bluff Mountain Outfitters. We had an appointment to meet our shuttle driver in front of the Outfitter store at nine a.m. We were a few minutes early, so we decided to look over our packs one last time to make sure we had everything packed and adjusted properly. As we were checking our packs, an older man walked up and introduced himself as Wild Bill, our shuttle driver. He then went to get his vehicle and come into the parking lot to pick us up. He pulled up in an old brown Jeep Cherokee that looked like it had been used, abused, and sent around the block a time or two...or in this case, perhaps down a mountain or two? We put our packs in the back of the Cherokee amongst all the stuff that Wild Bill already had stuffed in the small cargo area. I took the backseat of the Cherokee while Brent rode shotgun with Wild Bill. Oh, he was quite a character! I regret the fact that I didn't get a picture of him. Wild Bill used to work for the Foresty Service, fighting forest fires and performing rescues. He lived and worked all over the country during the 70s, 80s, and 90s. He told us many stories about his adventures while he was driving. It took forty-five minutes of Wild Bill's wild driving to get from Hot Springs to the parking lot at Max Patch. I have to admit that his driving scared me a few times. The man never slowed when he hit the gravel road. Several times I wondered if I signed up to go on a roller coaster ride! Wild Bill dropped us off in the parking lot and we paid him $45 for the shuttle ride in his Cherokee. He gave us his business card in case we needed a transport to another location.
In the parking lot, we shouldered our packs and began hiking a four-wheel drive road around the mountain to reach the Bald at the top where we would meet up with the Appalachian Trail. When we came out of the trees, we were confronted with the most beautiful grassy bald we had ever seen. The top of the mountain is regularly mowed, so we could see views of all the surrounding mountains and pasture land in all four directions. It was an amazing 360 degree vista. The mountains blazed with beautiful, vivid colors of yellow, gold, orange, and red. A few hay bales sat serenely amongst the soft green grass of the bald.
Standing on the AT near the summit of Max Patch.
Brent, standing next to the AT sign on Max Patch.
A view of autumn colors from Max Patch.
The well-worn footpath of the AT. Brent stands on the summit.
After enjoying the breathtaking views, we began to follow the white blaze north, Brent leading the way as he is usually inclined to do. Except, we took a wrong turn...made a left when we should have veered right. We walked down a well-used path but didn't see any white blazes on the trees. We realized we went the wrong way. We lost an hour or so because we thought we could figure out how to get back to the AT without backtracking. We were wrong. We finally turned around and followed the path back out of the forest until we found the white blaze again. What a precious sight it was! Brent was frustrated and a little embarrassed, claiming that he had never gotten lost on the AT before. Hopefully he never will again. We added about two miles to our journey with that mistake. When we found the AT again, we stopped to sit on a log and have a quick lunch of diced chicken breast and my specialty trail mix. We then hiked along the trail at a steady pace, mostly downhill, until we reached the Roaring Fork shelter. I had developed a hot spot on my right pinkie toe, so we detoured into the shelter so Brent could "play" medic and put moleskin on my toe.
We met a very talkative thru-hiker at the shelter who asked if we would take his picture and mail it to him. I agreed and he wrote his address on a card for me. After this, Brent doctored my toe and we set out on the trail again, northbound. We hiked several more miles, a mixture of ups and downs. While on a break to eat some trail mix, we were passed by a group of three older ladies. They were booking it! They put us to shame. We continued onward. The last mile and a half was a doozy of a climb to reach the top of Walnut Mountain. I thought we would never make it! We were both huffing and puffing our way up, taking frequent breaks. Halfway up the climb, we came across one of the previous ladies filtering water from a stream to refill her water supply. Brent filtered water to fill our extra bladders at the bottom of the mountain, so we were carrying 5 pounds extra weight each during our climb. We finally dragged ourselves up the mountain and reached a small overgrown bald at the top. It would look similar to Max Patch if the weeds were cut, but they were almost head height, so we couldn't see much.
After navigating through the weedy bald, we entered the forest again and saw Walnut Mountain Shelter. It was a very small shelter, able to sleep 5 people, that was built in the 1930s. Just past it were the bear cables where hikers hang their food bags so that bears and other animals won't get the food (or hopefully you). Across from the shelter, a short distance away, was a privy; basically a primitive outhouse. At the shelter, we met the group of three ladies again. They were in their 50s/60s and were in the process of doing a 150 mile section hike (their second that year!). The ladies were called Chicken, Blue Jay, and Sticks. Chicken, also known as Sondra Hartt, gave me my trail name, Baby Doe, because Brent goes by Buck. Baby Doe is a cute trail name and Blue Jay said I was little and cute like a baby doe, so the name stuck. I like it. Brent decided to add Indiana in front of Buck because there is already a 'Buck' out there somewhere on the AT. So Brent's full trail name is Indiana Buck or just Buck for short. There were two other AT first-timers at the shelter, two cousins from Florida and North Carolina. The ladies named them as well. Florida guy was named Four Seasons and NC guy was designated First Timer. They were obviously new to camping/backpacking because they brought so much food and other stuff! Brent acknowledged that I didn't even seem like a first timer. He complimented me because I always seemed to know what to do when we made camp, whether it was prep my sleeping area or gathering firewood. I guess all those camping adventures with my parents paid off!
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