Saturday—March 21, 1998
Trail Day—80/1
Trail Mile—1229/25
Location—Planted Pine by SR100 north of Holland
Cave Spring is a great little trail town, Todd’s Restaurant, Gray
Horse Restaurant, pizza and ice cream parlors, post office and motel.
Mule and I have breakfast at Gray Horse, then I head for Holland. I
hate to part company with Mule but he isn’t prepared
equipment-wise and his physical limitations present serious problems
when trying to bushwhack cross-country. He had a bout with encephalitis
at age 13 that left him with severe visual limitations. He has also
sustained head injuries which have left him with less than normal motor
function, and he must take Dilantin to control grand mal seizures. I
feel he will be able to handle the AT, but bushwhacking over rough
terrain is not for him. I hope to hike with him much more this summer.
Today has been a most pleasant roadwalk, a grand 25-mile day. I reach
Holland around 5:00 p.m. Here is a typical little crossroads community
with the usual gas station/limited food store. I pick up a few odds and
ends for my pack then head on north to pitch in the planted pine north
of Holland.
“The right to be left alone is indeed the
beginning of all freedom.”
[Justice William O. Douglas]
Sunday—March 22, 1998
Trail Day—81/2
Trail Mile—1248/44
Location—Gated FSR just below CR224 near Hammond Gap
I finish the short roadwalk from Holland to Taylor Ridge to arrive a
little before 10:00 a.m. There is a fine new trailhead here complete
with parking. The newly constructed treadway leaves the parking area to
claim the ridgeline for a very pleasant hike which provides wide open
views from both sides. The trail passes through the eastern extent of
Sloppy Floyd State Park and I can see the large, serene lake just below
to the west. At Mack White Gap where my old friend US27 passes, the
treadway ends and the bushwhacking begins anew. The cross-country going
is no problem here as the proposed trail follows the ridgeline for some
distance along game trails, old treadway with faded flagging and woods
and service roads. I pass a new microwave tower, complete with service
road leading down to Chapel Hill Church Road. Here I become confused for
a moment as none of this is shown on my map…so I mark the approximate
location and continue on.
I am making remarkably good time today, considering that
about half the day has involved bushwhacking. I get on the wrong ridge
spur a couple of times but with my compass and topo map I can quickly
tell I am going the wrong direction and manage to turn and make
corrections. I pitch by a small branch next to a gated FSR just below
CR224 near Hammond Gap. It has been a windy but pleasant day. There
seems to be a gradual but noticeable change in the weather, but I must
not get my hopes up too high.
“Come, heart where hill is heaped
upon hill:
For there the mystical brotherhood
Of sun and moon and hollow and wood
And river and stream work out their will.”
[William Butler Yeats] |
Monday—March 23, 1998
Trail Day—82/3
Trail Mile—1261/57
Location—Keown Falls Picnic Area
I stay on Narrows Picnic Road to FR325, from here to bushwhack
straight up Strawberry Mountain. At the ridge I find a delightful new
service road all in fresh-sewn grass. This I take up the ridge past a
large clearcut area to the north. From here a recently constructed horse
trail leads on northeast for a short distance. Then it’s bushwhacking
time again. The bushwhacks are getting more difficult and I haven’t beat
my way through the blowdowns and brush far until I realize I’m going the
wrong direction. Two clues, the compass is pointing the wrong way and
there’s a “No Hunting” signs on the tree just ahead. So I turn around
and beat my way back. Hunters are in the woods in full camo and I have
seen and talked with some of them today. Spring turkey season seems to
be very popular here. For it seems that for each hunter I chance to meet
I count additionally, probably five or six vehicles parked along the
service roads.
I soon come to West Armuchee Creek crossing, a picturesque spot.
There is no bridge, just a concrete slab where vehicles ford. I remove
my boots and begin wading across. I quickly realize this is a big
mistake, one I’m sure many others will make, what with concrete being
kind to one’s feet. To my dismay, and as I am committed to this, I find
the concrete dangerously slippery from moss slime. The creek is of good
size, with a fair volume of moving water, the velocity of which is
creating a force to be reckoned with. I slip and am almost swept down.
This is becoming treacherous. I can hardly maintain my footing on the
ice-slick surface. By inching my way I manage to gain the far bank. The
depth gauge shows a mere foot of water which seems insignificant, but
when footing is reduced to near zero, it doesn’t take much to get pushed
around. The water drops from the ford to a rocky pool and I certainly
did not want to go in there head first. Putting my off-road running
shoes on, which is certainly what I should have done might have helped
to some extent, but I have my doubts.
Crossing Subligna/Villanow Road and bushwhacking along a blowdown-filled
old road grade, then to follow some old, old flagging, I reach East
Armuchee Creek. Here is a formidable stream, more near the size of a
small river. The only crossing I am able to find is near a large tree
with blue paint rings. Here I change to my off-road running shoes and
hunt for a sturdy pole. As I enter the turbulence I am immediately
confronted with rapids having high water volume and moving at a rate to
create substantial hydraulic force. My footing is hindered by large
rocks, many of which are over a foot in diameter and very slippery.
Taking my time and groping along I am able to ford without incident, but
the experience has definitely been an adrenaline pump!
Once across the East Armuchee, now confronting me is the
rim swamp for the better part of 100 yards. This is muck, briars,
brambles and brush, an almost impenetrable bushwhack. The Florida titi
swamps have nothing on these Georgia river rim swamps. Maintaining a
passable treadway through here is going to present a fine challenge!
Finally through this maze, it’s a bushwhack straight up John’s Mountain,
over 500 feet in vertical elevation gain in less than a quarter mile! On
claiming the ridge I now have a short bushwhack along the ridge.
Proceeding I soon find the white blazes of the well-maintained Keown
Falls loop trail. Glory be, arriving here just as planned is a joy!
Steps are constructed, leading down beside the falls, providing a most
enjoyable experience. I pitch for the evening in the picnic area near
the park entrance. I no sooner get my camp secure than the rain begins
again.
“The bubbling brook doth leap when I
come by,
because my feet find measure with its call…”
[Jones Very, Nature] |
Tuesday—March 24, 1998
Trail Day 83/4
Trail Mile—1273/69
Location—FSR207A, Middle Mountain
The rain has stopped but the sky remains overcast and threatening.
I’d just as soon stay in on this cold, wet and dreary morning, but
indeed “I have miles to go before I sleep…” so I roll out and shoulder
my heavy, wet gear and head out to greet another lonely day on the
trail. When it is mild and the birds are singing, I am not nearly as
alone. But the birds are not singing this morning and mild is not the
word for this day. It has been a wonderful diversion seeing and talking
with the hunters but most have had to muster effort to remain kind and
tolerant. After all, they’re in the woods for peace and quiet, too—and
maybe a turkey—but certainly not a disheveled, yapping backpacker. I
journey on alone toward Horn Mountain.
Upon reaching S1264, I discover recent forest service control
burnover along the entire east side. The cross-county bushwhack, which
starts here heads east right through this nightmarish, doomsday setting.
I want no part of it and head north on S1264! Turning at FR233 I proceed
southeast on this way-out roundabout, crossing Furnace Creek. Here I
pick up an old woodsroad and head north. In a short distance the
two-track peters out, deteriorating into heavy briars, blow downs and
brush. After struggling through it awhile, I turn away to face the
near-vertical wall that is the west face of Horn Mountain. Here the
terrain is open, but near straight up. There’s no need hurrying this
sort of ladderless ascent. There is no pace, save slow and steady, every
sapling, root and tree being nature’s handrail. Approximately 150-200
feet from the ridgeline I hit beautiful, newly cut treadway! I guess if
I had gone a little further up FR233, past Furnace Creek, I would have
happened upon it there, avoiding all this crazy bushwhacking I’ve just
been through. I bet it comes up through the burnover from Pilcher Pond.
Heavy horse traffic is already shredding the side-slab berms on up
Horn. The treadway has been completed to the parking lot at Snake Creek
Gap. Heading for Mill Creek Mountain out of Snake Creek I see the first
new plastic diamond Pinhoti Trail blaze tacked to a tree. What a delight
to find the trail completed all the way to the ridgeline on Mill Creek
Mountain. From here, however it is cross-country again until I connect
to the FSR below Middle Mountain. In the brush now and stumbling and
fighting through, thinking I must certainly be the first and only human
to ever pass this way, I come upon this huge rock cairn! I look at it
and walk around it in total disbelief! Surely there must have been a
time when this had some significance, but as I stand here today gawking
at it in awe, I have not a clue! I pitch on Middle Mountain FSR in the
warmth of a most comforting evening sun.
“It is not so much for its beauty that
the forest makes
a claim upon men’s hearts, as for that subtle something,
that quality of air, that emanation from old trees, that
so wonderfully changes and renews a weary spirit.”
[Robert Lewis Stevenson] |
Wednesday—March 25, 1998
Trail Day—84/5
Trail Mile—1289/85
Location—Key West Inn, Chatsworth
I am up and out to a grand morning. Unquestionably, the weather is
changing, slowly, but it’s changing. The storms are still coming
through, but not with the regularity or the intensity with which I have
been getting slammed. Today, I’ll be hiking over familiar terrain on
Middle and Hurricane Mountains, for I have not only hiked here in the
past I have also help construct some of this trail. The Georgia Pinhoti
Trail Association of which I am a member is a small organization, but
the goal that has been set is a grand one indeed. For on the shoulders
of this group rests the responsibility of closing the gap in connecting
the southern Appalachians to Springer Mountain by trail. This will be
the final link in the chain of links needed to fulfill Mike Leonard’s
dream of a trail to the end of the Appalachian Range.
The trail from here to Dug Gap near Dalton is almost complete save a
short section along Rocky Fact Mountain. The hike along these long,
level ridges provides views in all directions, for indeed, the trail
leads in all directions, following this interesting geologic
arrangement. On Rocky Face now I pass another very strange rockwork.
Here is a fire ring the likes of which I have never seen before. It’s
really more a monument than a fire ring if that is possible. It is not
only a remarkable structure in size but it is complete with
promenade-like walkways all around, each lined with rocks collected from
all over the mountain and brought here to this place. Someone or some
group has spent an incredible amount of time hauling and stacking these
rocks! I take the full tour before heading on.
I get into Dalton by 3:00 p.m., first stop Wendys for a coke and a
frosty. Dalton is a large city with much traffic and confusion. I dearly
love trail towns, but not ten all at once! My nerves are pretty much in
a jangle before I get through. Surely there must be a motel out here
someplace, for I am not only on a busy state highway, but this is also
US76. Pulling into the pumps at the next station and talking with the
attendant I find that I am out of luck. Soon stops a fellow in a pickup
and offers a ride. I decline, but as he insists on hauling me along I
find that he’s going to Chatsworth where there is a fine motel. And he
not only offers to drop me off there this evening, but to pick me up
first thing in the morning and deposit me right back here to this very
spot. Okay, now that’s a deal! So it is that I meet Steve Griggs, a
fellow member of the Hiker Trash clan. As we motor along towards
Chatsworth, I’m thinking how strange it seems, covering the ground so
quickly. In minutes we have gone further than I can hike in a whole day.
Hikers certainly live in another time zone.
I’ll head for Ramhurst to begin bushwhacking the rugged Cohuttas
tomorrow. And I’ll be carrying a very heavy pack, for I have taken on
seven days provisions to get me on through, hopefully to Springer
Mountain…and home!
“Oft when the white still dawn
lifted the skies and pushed the hills apart
I’ve felt it like a glory in my heart.”
[Edwin Markham, Joy of the Morning] |
Thursday—March 26, 1998
Trail Day—85/6
Trail Mile—1309/105
Location—By Rock Creek near Dennis, the Cohuttas, Chattahoochee
National Forest
What a fine time here in Chatsworth. The Innkeeper provided a room
being worked on…at no charge! I’ve found a very successful Yogi-ing
technique as far as motels are concerned. I explain to the innkeeper
that I need no linen, bedding or towels, that I have all of these things
with me, but rather that I desire only a warm shower and a place to
write. I also explain that the room will be left exactly as found with
no need to bother maid service. And finally…that surely this could be
provided at a special rate! I was able to call my family and many
friends and to get caught up on my journal entries, have a grand shower,
wash some clothes and get a very good night’s sleep. Steve is right here
at 6:30 a.m. and we’re on our way back to Dalton. Thanks Steve for
stopping last evening and for all your kindness and help!
This is an event-filled day as I hike across the lush Great Valley
from the Armuchee Mountains to the rugged Cohuttas. This is a roadwalk
past many lovely farms, and though on backroads with very little traffic
I am offered many rides by the kind Georgia folks. The road rolls up and
around through the countryside past old houses with porches all around,
horse farm and sod farms, with beautiful Fort Mountain as a backdrop,
setting a scene most grand, serene and peaceful. I have been very
concerned about my ability to make it through the Cohutta bushwhack. I
talked with Marty Dominy at great length about this last night. He
suggested I stay on the roads, but that is just not an option. But today
I fret and worry myself about it again as I hike toward the tall and
grand Cohuttas just ahead. The Armuchee bushwhack wasn’t a piece of cake
by any stretch, but it was easy enough to stay on trail, for once up on
the ridgeline, getting lost pretty much meant falling off. Looking at
the topo for the Cohuttas however, is a scary deal. Here the mountains
go every direction. Ridges drop into ravines, and these wind to be
diverted by ridges and spurs from other mountains. Gaps and saddles
interconnect in a maze and pure jumble. The topo is black with lines,
indicating very steep and rugged terrain. And through this all goes the
bushwhack o’er what one day will become the Georgia Pinhoti Trail.
This has been a warm and sunny day, what a joy! East of Ramhurst,
near Dennis I break from the roadwalk to enter the forest and start the
bushwhack near Rock Creek. I promptly get lost, beating around in a
side-hill pine thicket full of brush and greenbriars. I end up with
brown, prickly pine needles down my neck and in everything, including my
boots. I finally manage to beat my way off the ridge to follow the creek
along and to climb where it tumbles from the mountain. I pitch for the
evening by a most picturesque, pristine spot just above Rock Creek. The
creek is full of gladness as it sings its happy song. In the soothing
sound of its restful lullaby I soon fall asleep.
“Sweet are the little brooks that run
O’er pebbles glancing in the sun,
Singing in soothing tones.”
[Thomas Hood, Town and Country] |
Friday—March 27, 1998
Trail Day—86/7
Trail Mile—1319/115
Location—By FSR631 near Murray/Gilmer Co. line, the Cohuttas,
Chattahoochee National Forest
Trail angels, what a wonderful subject. I must tell you about two
yesterday. Steve, who lives in Ellijay, the fellow who stopped to give
me a ride and listened to my story about this odyssey was the first.
Even he, a long distance backpacker, got a little glassy-eyed when I
answered his questions about where I’m going and where I’ve been. He
just kept saying, “That’s awesome! That’s awesome!” And then the fine
folks at the gas station/mom-n-pop deli, a mile or so past the Conasauga
Bridge that gave me some biscuits. Would you believe five biscuits?
Three ham and two sausage, and these weren’t leftovers. It was just past
8:00 a.m. and people were buying breakfast biscuits! The sweet old lady
said, “This’ll help you get over those mountains.” Doggone I didn’t get
their names, but I’ve sure marked that place on my map! Five
biscuits! Ate three yesterday and the other two, a ham and a sausage
I downed this morning.
As I’ve mentioned, I’ve been most apprehensive about the
cross-country coming up on this north end of the Georgia Pinhoti.
Looking at the topo lines on the map this morning makes my head spin!
These mountains are massive. Spurs creating deep ravines go everywhere.
The mountains lie at every compass position and the ridgelines are
indistinct and hard to follow, often being no more than a spur from one
knob hitting a spur from another. Not like the cross-country in the
Armuchees to the west before crossing the Great Valley. Taylor Ridge was
straight and almost level. Ditto for Strawberry, John’s, Horn, Mill
Creek, Middle, Hurricane, and Rocky Face Mountains. All I basically had
to do was get up on these ridges and truck! My nervousness and fear were
reflected in my voice when I talked with Marty. “Marty,” I said, “I
don’t think my map and compass skills nor my climbing ability are up to
what’s ahead in the Cohuttas. It’s not like the Armuchee Ridges.” In his
slow, matter-of-fact South Georgia drawl he said, “Some of the going
will be painfully slooow, especially with a backpack.” I invited him to
come up and go with me, which certainly wasn’t fair to him. He’s gone
way out of his way to help me already. Preparing all of these maps had
to take hours. They are incredibly detailed and very accurate.
The first section really threw me for a loop. I expected the
cross-country to be tough, but not up and down bluffs and through
impenetrable thickets. But pushing on this morning, two things are
becoming clear above all in my mind. First, even though this
cross-country is scary and incredibly difficult (my back is sore from
the pack being pushed and shoved, even with the sternum strap as tight
as I can get it), I really haven’t gotten lost! I know where I am every
minute! I’m reading the topos and following my compass just fine! And,
second, I am seeing some unbelievably beautiful country, the very first
Georgia Pinhoti thru-hiker to see these places. So these last few days
before I reach Springer and the AT are going to be magic and exciting
days. I’ll follow the maps Marty has prepared for me. I’ll probably
blunder and get lost, but these will be the kind of days memories are
made of! Eighty-six days on the trial today. I’ve prepared myself. I
believe I can handle this!
I get on through Rock Creek just fine. It’s slow, hard hiking, just
like Marty said it would be, but I’m enjoying the mountains in a way
that is totally different than that enjoyment when following a beaten
path. Here there is a different attitude, a different state of mind. The
adrenaline is pumping; it is the mystery, the unknown, the doubt and the
challenge of it all. The air is charged and I am vibrant and totally
alive! A short FSR roadwalk and it’s cross-country time again. Up one of
the tributaries to Rock Creek (a misnomer, it should be called Boulder
Creek). This terrain is indescribably rugged, making for tough climbing.
There are many blowdowns, much brush. I am able to get my sleeping pad (Thermarest)
off the outside bottom of my pack and inside this morning, so this
allows me to move my sleeping bag from the top of my pack to the bottom.
This helps immensely; not getting it hung up in everything I’m trying to
get over, under and through! One of my comments while lamenting to Marty
was “It looks like you’re running me straight up a waterfall.” Well,
would you believe four? Four dandies! In less than a half mile! Folks,
this place is rugged! What incredible sights, the falls, the lush
vegetation all around. There is not the least hint of a path, no game
trails, nothing! The map is black from the topo lines running together.
I am able to climb through, around, and over them okay. This Georgia
Pinhoti is going to be a remarkable trail!
Oh yes, here they are! Today I see them for the first time. I’ve been
looking and waiting so long, each day with more and more anticipation.
And here they are at last, beautiful and majestic, the unmistakable,
stately white pine! I am in the mountains now for sure, no doubt about
it! The white pine confirms that fact. Eighty-six days of hiking and I
am here at last in these most-grand mountains. I’m home! I reach half
mile high elevations today for the first time. As I hike on, my map and
compass tell me that I should be nearing a service road again and here
it is without a hitch, just as Marty has marked. I pitch just inside the
forest service line in a lovely sheltered cove with a clear brook, about
two miles south of SR52. Gathering rocks, I built a great fireplace,
then level a spot to tent for the night. I’ll leave this fireplace
standing here. For others will want to stay here also when the finished
trail passes by. This evening I am a member of the Georgia Pinhoti Trail
crew, building a campsite!
“…going to the mountains is going
home…”
[Muir] |
Saturday—March 28, 1998
Trail Day—87/8
Trail Mile—1329/125
Location—Old blowdown hole, Bear Creek Trail by Parks Ridge,
Chattahoochee National Forest
I didn’t realize just how lovely a campsite I had picked last night,
for I enjoyed a beautiful sunset over Fort Mountain to the west and
could clearly see the lights of Dalton, across the Great Valley, a
two-day hike away. Just before falling asleep I could see the lights
from vehicles coming over Fort Mountain on SR52 and I could also hear
the faint whistle of train horns clear across the Great Valley from
Dalton.
I arise to another beautiful day, sunny and warm. Oh, if this weather
will just hold one more day, as I must constantly refer to my maps. A
rainy day would be a real problem. Cross-country bushwhacking is
difficult under ideal conditions. Today is another day of slow, hard
going, the most difficult cross-country hiking. Trail construction over
Turkey Mountain to Holly Creek Gap is going to be a very tough
proposition! The FS corridor is narrow through here, driving the trail
down from the ridgeline into the ravines, which run near back on
themselves and are extremely steep.
Well, today is the day to get lost! I know I’m not where I should be
right away when I see a spring box and black plastic pipe going down the
creek, providing gravity feed water to a home below. I stay on course,
not wanting to climb back up the ravine, rehearsing my lines as I
descend, in case I am met by the landowner. I come out right in his back
yard. Luckily, no one’s home and there’s no dog! I get across his field
and almost to the road at Mulberry Gap before the neighbor’s dog starts
yipping. This area is another of the very narrow FS corridors. I was one
small ravine south of where I should have been, probably off compass and
map course no more than 100 yards or so!
I really have trouble getting down to Holly Creek Gap. The Forest
Service has constructed a full two-lane wide grassy road leading north
just past Double Top, so I jump on it figuring it has to go out to the
gap. Wrong! It slabs around Double Top and goes back south. I find this
out by hiking all the way down and around as my compass needle keeps
swinging the wrong direction. But here I see the first large and most
stately hemlock. The ridge and saddle leading northeast off this grassy
road is obscured by the recent construction and I hunt and backtrack up
and down for over an hour before I get back on track. Ha! Then the old
narrow trail off Double Top forks. Yup, I take the wrong one. I finally
make it to Holly Creek Gap, but the day is pretty much shot.
I have managed only ten miles today, pretty much in line with what
I’ve allowed, but still somewhat disappointing. I’m anxious to see those
white diamond blazes on the Benton MacKaye Trail, but I know at the same
time I’ll most likely feel a bit of sadness as the truly adventuresome
part of this odyssey will be over.
“…it is because they have so much to give and give it
so
lavishly to those who enter them that we learn to love the
mountains and go back to them again and again.”
[Sir Francis Youngblood]
Sunday—March 29, 1998
Trail Day—88/9
Trail Mile—1341/137
Location—Cove by Halloway Gap, south of Dyer Gap, Benton MacKaye
Trail
I am up early and out at 7:30 a.m. I’m very excited about today. For,
if I go the right direction I will reach the Benton MacKaye Trail. Here,
I’ll be only 64 miles from Springer Mountain. As I get rolling—more
tripping, stumbling, falling and then rolling—I am able to follow my
compass and topo maps fairly well. But, as it seems this is going to be
bumble, bump and bruise day! I’ve already managed to do two headers; one
pitched me clean off the mountain into the puckers and the other, a
faceplant right in the dirt. Though shaken up, damage control reports
I’m none the worse for wear! Oh yes! And now I am managing to get lost;
nothing drastic, just time consuming, frustrating little ordeals as I
turn…to burn and finally return.
Marty’s detailing for the proposed trail location is superb. Indeed
the Georgia Pinhoti Trail, when completed, will thread its way through
these precipitous slopes just as it should. However, the problem is
this. The maps are not always correct, especially as to the actual
woodsroad locations, and the cross-country today is some of the most
challenging and technically demanding with which I’ve had to deal. It’s
interesting, for it seems the degree of bushwhacking difficulty has
gradually and systematically increased from novice to near-expert right
along with my ability to cope, calculate and navigate with it, much as
if a tactical training course had been designed and prepared to teach me
all levels of cross-country travel!
The Cohutta Wildlife Management Area comprises some incredibly rugged
terrain. It’s Sunday, but never do I see a soul in the Mountaintown
area. There is finely constructed treadway here for hikers and
mountain-bikers, laid down in classic fashion. But it is a very tough
and rugged trail. Mountaintown and Crenshaw Creeks are formidable
streams and the trail crosses them repeatedly. The area is pleasant to
the eye but unpleasant to my (water-soaked) feet. There is bear sign all
through here; trails, scat and hair, but alas, no bruins are about.
They’re here though…I can smell ‘em!
The Georgia Pinhoti Trail is going to be a diverse and most
delightful five star trail when completed. It will have a little of all
the grand things an outstanding trail should have: Easy sections,
challenging sections, roadwalks, peaceful stretches providing quiet
solitude, breathtaking scenery including waterfalls, an unparalleled
composite of flora and fauna, vistas and majestic trees (the
southernmost groves of hemlock and white pine on the continent),
splendid campsites, babbling brooks—and Cave Spring—a really neat trail
town! Oh yes, and mountains; above all, incredibly rugged, picturesque
mountains! I finally reach the Benton MacKaye Trail (BMT) at 3:00 p.m.
Please humor this old man’s chest-puffing now for just a moment, for
it has been said, “If ya done it, it ain’t abraggin’.” I feel proud and
humbled to be the first to experience all that these combined Pinhoti
Trails have to offer. I may not be the first to hike the entire Alabama
Pinhoti from where the grand Appalachians begin near Porter Gap, to the
Alabama/Georgia state line, but I suspect I am. I know I’m the first to
hike the entire Georgia Pinhoti from the state line through the
Armuchees to the BMT here in the Cohuttas. Both of these hikes have been
“thru” hikes, done and combined as one thru-hike. So I know I also have
the distinction of being the first to hike the entire Pinhoti Trail, a
distance according to my calculations of some 260 miles, the Alabama
segment being a little over 125 miles and the Georgia segment nearly 140
miles.
I would like to thank all the great folks with the Alabama Trails
Association, the Georgia Pinhoti Trail Association, the Forest Service
people and all other personnel involved and associated at the federal,
state and local levels who, through love and dedication for their chosen
work, so diligently and professionally caretake these treasures of ours.
And to Marty, especially to you Marty Dominy, my dear friend for your
help in making the Pinhoti Trail such a pleasant and rewarding
experience. It is destined to become one of the most memorable parts of
this odyssey. And finally, above all, I thank the Good Lord for the
determination, stamina, good health, and safe passage, so lavished upon
me.
I pitch near a lovely mountain brook by the BMT. This has been
another beautiful, rewarding and memorable day. Now on to Springer
Mountain and the bushwhack home, for a much needed rest before
adventuring on north!
“If you would measure the quiet majesty, the beauty,
the sanctity of the woods, do it with a two-foot rule…
to be part of the great sanctuary—walk.”
[Unknown] |