Read AWOL on the Appalachian Trail for Free Online Page A

Patience, women from Israel. They came all the way from NOC yesterday, undeterred by the rain. I am impressed. A storm began last night after their arrival, and it is still lingering. I am once again waiting for a break in the rain before leaving the shelter. Snail and Patience don't wait. They don ponchos and go. When the rain is down to a drizzle, I'm determined to break out of this jungle. I'm less bothered by the rain since I'll make it to town (Fontana Village) and have a chance to dry. Also, I feel a little shown up by the women. Foggy trail and the cacophony of birds add to the rainforest effect. On the trail there are a number of appliance-sized boulder fields where I can hear the roar of unseen streams underneath.
    My hiking day is spent leap-frogging Snail and Patience. Like many hiking partners, they hike separately at their own pace and meet up at landmarks. I catch up with Snail first. She gets her name from being the slower of the two, although both of them are young women fresh out of the Israeli army, and both hike more strongly than most other thru-hikers. I learn that they have an unusual plan for hiking the trail. They started their hike by walking the section of trail in Pennsylvania, reasoning that they would "get their trail legs" while hiking the flattest state. Then they hitched down to Georgia and headed north. When they reach Pennsylvania, they'll skip ahead to New Jersey and continue north to Katahdin.
    I catch up with sarcastically dubbed Patience while she is waiting restively for Snail. She gives me some miniature Hershey bars, but I cannot find any food with which I can reciprocate since she is a kosher vegetarian.
    Fontana Dam is the highest dam east of the Mississippi. I can see the dam through the trees a few miles away, and it looks like I'm only minutes from it. It makes for a long, frustrating descent when my goal seems to keep moving away from me. I am as grungy as I've been on the trail. Getting rained on daily, sweating in rain gear, wet shoes, and mud everywhere make for a potent mix.
    Fontana Village is a hamlet two miles from the dam, which once housed the builders of the dam. As a tremendous courtesy to hikers, a phone is located at the dam, where I call and get a shuttle into town. I stay at a nice hotel in the village, at a dirt-cheap thru-hiker rate. Rain is forecast, so I plan to take a zero day tomorrow. 10

Fontana Dam to Hot Springs

    I have entered the third state on the trail without leaving the second. The AT defines the North Carolina/Tennessee border in the Smokies. There are nine peaks over six thousand feet, including Clingmans Dome (6,643 feet), the highest point on the AT. The hike up from Fontana Dam is grueling as it ascends twenty-eight hundred feet from the dam to the ridge of the Great Smoky Mountains. This is the fourth time I've climbed this section.
    My first two trips up this trail were made on consecutive days twenty-three years ago. My father, my brother, a friend, and I set out to hike the length of the Appalachian Trail in the Smokies starting from Fontana Dam. My dad was roughly the same age as I am now. A few miles into the hike, my dad started falling back. All of us were tired; it was a rough uphill climb. Later I began backtracking to see if he was still coming. He encouraged me to push on. I went ahead to catch up with the other two and convinced them to come back to check on him.
    This time it was obvious that he was more than just tired. The workload went beyond what his heart could handle. It turned into a long day getting him down and to a hospital, and we spent a sleepless night sitting up in our car at a rest stop. The next day we headed back up the trail. Dad wouldn't have it any other way.
    He improved and took a flight back home before we finished our hike. But he had sustained damage to his heart that would eventually lead to early retirement and open-heart surgery.
    I've had doubts about my ability to thru-hike, but thankfully my heart is