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Why Sweet Thunder? It was my Indian name given to me at a camp when I was a teenager. The counselor said that I had a huge, SWEET, heart, but I was also loud and boisterous like THUNDER! Still rings true to this day! This is my 13th year of teaching and I have been fortunate enough to teach in the US, South America, Africa and Asia. This blog is my canvas for experiences, thoughts, feelings and memories. Read with caution!

Saturday 18 October 2014

Hiking and snoring and bears....OH MY!

I have been told that I have a BIG personality.  I am loud and I am proud!  I like grandiose gestures - the bigger and more outlandish someone is, I will probably want to meet them.  Also, I like the spotlight.  You place me in a room full of strangers, guaranteed that I will get to know the stories and lives of most of the people in the room within 20 minutes.  With that being said, I like to have celebrations or BIG experiences in my timeline of life.  As a teacher, my timeline is geared around school beginnings, school endings and all those glorious vacations in between.  So, I knew that at the end of July, with the upcoming school year approaching, I wanted to end/begin with a BIG BANG.

My good friend Hillary Marshall lives in Portland now and her and I used to teach together at Seoul Foreign School.  Four years ago our friendship was instant with our mutual affection for South American culture, uncanny luck in relationships, love of literature and our common desire to suck the marrow out of life!  During our time in Korea, we both loved to hike and I have many a fond memory with Hillary in the peaceful sanctuary of foliage, breathtaking views and sweat covered stories.  We have both read the book Wild by Cheryl Strayed and had talked about our desire to follow in her footsteps (literally) and hike the entire Pacific Crest Trail.



Lofty goal?  Like I said, I like to do things BIG!

After some consideration, we both decided that it might be best if we do a trial run of hiking complete with the backpacks, sleeping on the trail and eating dried food BEFORE we made elaborate plans to trek over 3 entire states.  Hillary and I made plans for her to fly to Nashville over the summer and then we could do a section of the Appalachian Trail (AT) to determine if we could make the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT) a reality.
We obviously didn't have time to hike the entire AT this summer, so we chose a section of the trail and set our minds to hiking for 4 days and 3 nights = 33 miles.  Seemed reasonable at the time.


At this point in my narrative, it would make sense to talk about all the endless hours of planning and preparation that went into this trip.  The countless maps that were consulted or the constant calls to park rangers or safety websites, however.....that is what makes our memory so GREAT!

Hillary is the UBER planner.  I have traveled with her before and one of the reasons I love having her as a companion is that she does it ALL!  Hillary will scop out a destination and thoroughly investigate.  She is the RESEARCH QUEEN.  Martha Stewart doesn't have anything on Hillary and how her library is organized.  She usually is the one that comes prepared on a trip, but both her and I had so much going on this summer, that things were neglected and we ended up planning our trip only 4 days before we set off.  We had to change our path and our sleeping cabins several times and it was only a couple days before setting off that we secured all of our final details!

I pick her up from the Nashville airport really late on Wednesday, July 23rd and by early Thursday morning Hillary is helping me sort through all the things that I think I cannot live without for the next 4 days.


We didn't weigh our backpacks before we left, we simply felt that it was what we could handle!  We load our stuff in my Honda and take off for the Smoky Mountain National Park in TN where we will be hiking along the ridge of the Appalachian Trail.  During our car ride, I could feel my tension mounting, but I looked over at Hillary and remembered that I was with an experienced hiker.  She had done the whole backpack thing (once before) and she was tough like me - we would be OK!

We dropped off my car at Fontana Dam and loaded into a shuttle that would take us to Clingman's Dome (the highest point on the entire AT).  The only way back to my car was to hike the 33 miles.  
Closing the door to the shuttle van brought a sense of feverishness.  I knew as I watched my little Honda disappear from my sight that I was actually doing this - I was going to backpack and sleep in the woods for the next 3 nights.  My heart began to beat a little faster.  I am an adventurous person, but I began to second guess my BIG DREAMS!  

Hillary started to ask our tour guide some questions about the trail.  The tour guide was talking about how she has hiked sections of the AT about 3 times a week and it is completely safe.  I breathed a sigh of relief and then Hillary asked about the bears in the park.  OH MY!  Again our tour guide tried to calm our nerves by stating that most bears are more afraid of the hikers than we are of them, but to also make sure we use common sense.  She started listing all of the things that we shouldn't do - like eat tuna, bears love the smell of tuna.  I take a big gulp as I remember the 10 pouches of tuna I have in my backpack.  Then she said that it is smart if we have some type of protection against the bears, like bear spray or a weapon.  Hillary and I both exchange a look as we remember the only protection we have is a WHISTLE!  Really, what were we planning to do, whistle a tune as the bear is violetly attacking us?  I could see the panic in Hill's eyes as we both are contemplating turning back.  I asked if there was a way that we could hike off the AT into the Smoky Mountain National Park if we encounter an emergency and she said, sure, just follow your map.  I asked, "What map?"  She incredulously remarked, "You guys don't have a map of the park?"  Hillary and I are officially freaking out now and beginning to hyperventilate.  The tour guide didn't notice and began to give us some statistics.  She said that many tourists come to the Smoky Mountain National Park every year - approx 9 million.  Of those 9 million, only 10,000 venture off of the paved roads.  Of those that venture off the paved paths in the park, only 1% of those people hike the Appalachian Trail!  
Chalk it up to being adventurous, blame it on the wanderlust, whatever the reasons, those statistics gave me the MOJO I needed to feel more confident about our adventure.  I did however, get out my cell phone and make a call to Mommy and Daddy and told them I loved them in case I was eaten by a bear!  :)

We began our adventure with high spirits as we said goodbye to the guide and took pictures of the highest point on the AT.  The fog and inclement weather couldn't dampen our spirits at this time.




Our first hike was a short one, only 4 miles to the first shelter and we could make our dinner (loosely speaking) and get some rest for the long hike the next day - 8 miles.  Our trekking poles were a beautiful sound as I breathed in the cool air of the AT.  My backpack was light and my heart was joyful....and then came the rain!  About an hour into our trip, a slow drizzle turned into a heavy pitter patter.  I put on my rain coat, then stripped it off several times because I decided I would rather be wet from the rain, than wet from sweat since it was about 90 degrees!  Hillary and I continued with our upbeat spirits and began looking for shelter.  We were just about to get out our map (that our guide had bought for us since she felt so bad for two girls hiking alone without a map) when I spotted something about 20 feet ahead.  I said, "Hillary, look, the shelter!"  We both break out into laughter and hike the short distance looking like drowned rats arriving to camp about 7pm.  


The shelter was far from the modern convenience I had imagined, but it was dry and had a roof.  At least 6 other people were already in the shelter and were in clean clothes eating snacks, playing cards or just resting in the cabin.  I am overjoyed with our victory and quickly introduce ourselves.  A father and his nine year old son were hiking, two young men from Nashville were among the group, an unidentified man that was curled up in the corner fast asleep and then a woman named Debbie and her friend Dan.  Hillary and I quickly change into dry clothes and set out for our first meal in the wilderness.  Darkness is approaching, but we pay little attention to that fact and set up our sleeping bags and made our dinner over a small burner.  After a delicious meal of instant red beans and rice, we tackle the task of hanging our backpacks on the bear cables.  Our guide had told us that all backpacks should be outside of the shelter so bears won't smell the food and want to come into the shelter.  By the time we were ready to hang up the packs, it was pitch black - around 8pm.  Hillary and I adjusted our headlamps and set out in the soggy mud with mist coming down on us.  We were searching for the cables and finally found them much further from the camp than I wanted.  Being the independent and efficient women that we are, we decided to hang BOTH packs from the same cable.  We attempted to pull and hoist our wet packs at least 30 feet into the air to NO avail.  We try again and Hillary gets a deep cut while I am slipping in the mud.  Then, I think I hear a sound....I whip my headlamp around to search with wide eyes for the sound I hear.  I tell Hillary that we need to hurry and then she gets frustrated even more about not being able to get our packs above ground.  Not to mention it is still raining so we are trying to secure the packs with tarp over them to keep them dry.  Another attempt involved grunting and groaning and more slipping and sliding when she suggests we hang them seperately.  Backpack #1 goes up no problem and then I hear another sound.  At this point I am ready to RUN!  I have had it with the forest, the rain is the spawn of Satan and I don't care about the backpack because I am convinced that I am going to be eaten by a wild animal in the middle of TN.  My mind starts to race and I imagine headlines in papers and how my students will react to the loss of their teacher and what my sister will say at my funeral.  With desperation in my eyes I rush over to help Hillary with the second backpack and once it is secured I say, "Let's go, Hill, I am really scared."  She says, "Wait, I have to go to the bathroom."  IS SHE SERIOUS?  THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING!  "HOLD IT," I practically scream.  I imagine the wolves all around us waiting for her to show her bare butt and then attacking.  I contemplate leaving Hillary in the woods and saving my own life (not proud to admit that) then I wait for her to do her business.  We trek back to the shelter and find every single person fast asleep in their sleeping bags.  We quietly get ready to hit the sack and I am unsure if my heartbeat will ever go back to normal when I see two red eyes about 20 feet outside.  I am convinced it is the wolf or the lion or the wild whatever that lives in TN and I freeze.  I can't even whisper to Hillary for fear the animal will come in for the kill.  I shut off my head lamp and slowly move to my sleeping back never taking my eyes off the creature.  I think to myself there is safety in numbers and head to the bunks where the others are sleeping.  Selfishly I think, if he is going to get me, he will get us all!  Again, people I am not proud, but I was an AT hiking novice....I had a lot to learn.  I attempt to close my eyes and block out the creature of the night when I remember what the other hikers had told us about MICE.  They said that mice run in and out of the shelters, especially at night.  I hear little feet dancing on the roof above and I zip up my sleeping bag with room only for a small hole for my mouth.  I would rather suffocate to death on my first night on the AT than let the animals win.  I think I got about 45 total minutes of sleep time that night.  

Day #2 I wake up when I hear the other hikers making instant coffee and oatmeal.  It is officially the butt crack of dawn!  My nerves are shot from tossing and turning whenever I heard a noise and I can feel every aching muscle from lying on the hard wood all night.  I unzip the sleeping bag a smidge to allow myself more air before I overheat when I look over at Hillary and remember the craziness from the night before.  Her and I whisper to each other and then resign to get up and start the day.  I sluggishly change into my hiking clothes and we eat our granola bars while looking out among nature.  Suddenly a deer comes right up to the shelter and begins eating her breakfast too.  It was a magical moment until we exchange looks and I could swear and I hear her mocking me, "You will never survive another night in the forest!" Determined to prove the deer wrong, I set off with a tired but tenacious mindset.  Hillary and I begin our long journey around 8am.  
My backpack feels quite a bit heavier today and my muscles ache.  We are going to be experiencing quite a bit of a altitude change today and my mind is resolute to get to the next shelter.  Hillary and I quickly find that we are perfect hiking partners spending most of the day catching up and hiking at a similar pace and not setting out for a marathon.  I am loving the time away from my cell phone and I am cherishing the conversations with my dear friend.  On our journey we come across some of the same hikers that were in our shelter the previous night - one in particular the older gentelman that was fast asleep whom we did not meet.  On one of our rest breaks we find our his name is Pick (his name given to him on the AT as a thru hiker) and he is 76 years old and he has hiked the ENTIRE Appalachian Trail once already.  He is on "vacation" and he has been hiking approx 300 miles thus far.  I look at his small frame, his very light backpack, his white, wiry beard and I am fascinated.  We sit down and he shares stories of his life and passion for hiking at a young age.  He talks of wars that he has fought, his wife and kids and his injury from his first stint on the AT.  I am engrossed by his mild manner, his comfortableness with being alone and his acceptance of being on the journey - not quick to get to his destination.  Pick and I become instant friends and I quickly forget about my issues from hiking only 6 miles at this point and resolve to make the most of my trip.

Hillary and I admire the scenery, breathe in the fresh air and relish in the fact that we are healthy enough to make such a physically exhausting trip and still enjoy it!  





Coming to our second shelter involved much more joy and exhileration than the night before.  I literally let out a loud war cry when I saw the wooded structure and I commanded my wobbly legs to take a couple steps further.  We find ourselves arriving much earlier in our second shelter and were puffed up with pride about our distance covered on day #2.  We meet our new bunkmates and find a fresh water supply.  Camping in the wilderness involves a certain "bad ass" mentality.  You do not turn a faucet when you want water, you have to hike 1/4 mile to a stream where you then need to filter your water.  Once your water is filtered, you then need to place it in the water bladder or Nalgene that you must carry the next day!  This entire process could take about 30 minutes to an hour all the while awkwardly crouching over the water source.  You think about the pounds, you measure the weight as you have to set off for your journey!  
After dinner over a propane tank, we begin to settle in for the night.  I am BONE TIRED, but interested in our new company.  Two dads and their teenage sons are doing the AT trail along with our friends Pick and Debbie and Dan from the night before.  We play cards and talk about our lives and enjoy being strangers united by a common cause - adventure.  Later in the night the sons decide they are going to sleep on a hammock outside of the shelter and we find out that one of the dads is famous.  He is the number one ranked trail mountain bike rider in Minnesota!  I tell him that I am honored to be sharing my dried food in such prestigious company!  :)  By 8pm our eyes are droopy and Hillary and I have successfully hung our packs on the bear cables in the daylight.  We looked like PROS as we hung the backpacks in one try!  Toasty and completely and utterly crippled I lie in my backpack at 8:30pm.  I hear the mice, but don't even give them a second thought due to extreme fatigue.  Both Hillary and I recap our days and again remind ourselves how thankful we are to be on this journey - both the good and the bad and the crazy.  I fall into a dreamless and hardcore sleep around 8:45pm.  
At an ungodly hour in the morning/night (I can't tell at this point) I hear people coming into the camp.  There are two adult men talking and it is pitch black outside.  They are saying words that I can't comprehend from my deep slumber.  I am awake and angry!  They laugh and talk and take off their packs like they are cavemen!  I don't have my watch, but I think to myself that it must be about 11 or 11:30pm.  What in the world are they doing hiking in the wilderness at this hour.  They have no respect for the fact that everyone is asleep and they continue to be loud, then if that is not enough....they start smoking weed.  YUP, TRUE STATEMENT!  Hillary and I both are awake at this point and we discuss this absurdity.  We say to each other, "ARE YOU SERIOUS?  IS THIS OUR LIFE RIGHT NOW?" My eyes have a crazy look about them as I contemplate murdering them with my plastic knife I have stored in my backpack.  Maybe I can hit them over the head with my headlamp or my propane tank  - both are rather heavy.  Then, they finally decide to go to sleep and just as my body begins to relax again, I hear a sound like a freight train.  The one man is snoring so loud I think he is going to rattle the rafters.  I stare up at the ceiling in the pitch black and I repeat to myself, "Thou shall not murder."  The snoring continues for the rest of the night and I calculate the amount of sleep to be around 4 hours for day #2.  

I abruptly jolt out of my dream where I am on the airport runway and the noise is deafening.  I awake to the all too familiar sound of snoring and remember my hatred for the men who disturbed my slumber the night before.  I very noisly and carelessly gather my stuff to get ready for the day hoping that I am half as loud as they were.  Hillary and I are on the fence about whether we can finish our entire trip.  We have hiked 12 miles in a day and a half and now today we are to hike 9 miles with 5 mountain peaks in our forecast.  Our uncertainty comes because our last day trekking back to my car is the longest day for us - almost 12 miles!  At this point we have talked to our friends Debbie and Dan about their path.  They are taking a detour that would cut about 5- 8 miles off our initial journey and my gutteral reaction to their proposal that we join them is, YES without hesitation!   My feet are aching, I am losing a toenail, I haven't had a bowel movement in two days, no coffee has entered my system in 48 hours and sleeping with the mice and the snoring has made me a little POSTAL!  At the same time, I don't want to take away from Hillary's desire to hike the PCT so I am quiet (a first for me) and let her decide.  She agrees that we might have bit off more than we can chew and I literally jump into her arms with glee at the idea of taking some miles off our trip.  Dan and Debbie are very kind to let us follow them around, so that morning we all share a very sacred 1/2 cup of coffee and descend on the trail.  There is nothing greater than forming an effortless friendship with someone.  Both Debbie and Dan proved to be those type of people.  Easy to talk to, adventurous mindset and loved to hike.  We would play games to distract our minds from our sore shoulders and throbbing back and this proved to be a great way to get to know them better.  Also, I especially liked Dan because he was carrying a gun and I felt a new sense of immortality walking behind him.

At one point in our hike, Debbie and Dan had passed us up and were quite a ways in front of us.  Both Hillary and I were taking our time and engrossed in conversation when I saw her stop dead in her tracks.  Her eyes were wide and she started backing up.  I asked what was the problem and she whispered that there was a mama bear and her cubs sitting and eating.  My heart starts pounding in my chest and we are both backing up slowly at first then almost at a jog.  When we felt we were a safe distance away, we talk about our dilemma.  The bears are really close to the trail and there is only one way back to my car - the way of the bears!   I am nervous because my friend Dan is nowhere to be found and my stupid whistle is about as effective as a fly swatter right now.  Hillary is freaked out and she then says, "My eyesight really isn't that good."  I cock my head to the side and reply, "Huh?  What do you mean?"  She said, "Well, I THINK I saw a bear and her two cubs, but it might have been some logs."  I give a nervous laugh and I am unsure what to do next.  I don't want to be the one that has to find out if she is correct and then Hillary says, "Why don't you go up there and check."  I figure this is payback from when I wanted to abandon her in the woods so I creep slowly to the spot where Hill saw the bears.  She reminds me what the park ranger said about talking loudly and that bears can hear and will usually run away.  Hillary is hunched over with one hand on my backpack and we are creeping toward the spot in the middle of the day.  To make it more comical, we both start shouting as we play the alphabet game.  I think I am about to soil my pants when she says, "Ok, we are coming up to where I saw them."  I gulp and have my whistle ready to blow.  The view is in sight and I squint with one hand over my eyes and my whistle positioned in my mouth and I see......LOGS!  There are four logs that from a distance could be conceived as bears....if they were moving and grunting and chasing us!  We both laugh and Hillary says they could have heard us and left.  At that point I take off in a dead sprint with my 40 pound backpack jostling from side to side.

Our day is long and the hills and elevation seems to never end until we come to our half way mark of the day.  We see this beautiful opening and realize that we are literally on top of the world.  Dan shares a fun fact that the song Rocky Top Tennessee was about the very place we were standing.  I gape at the beauty and just stand with my face toward the sun with closed eyes and open heart.  We all start humming the tune of the song and then set down our tarp, get out our delicious lunch of crushed bagels and peanut butter, kick off our shoes and bask in the glow of the sun, nature and new adventures.
I sit and meditate on my life and it causes an overwhelming sense of gratitude that I have so many "BIG MOMENTS" in my life.  I am surrounded by breathtaking scenery, qualilty people and great adventure.  My heart is full and the time spent on top of the moutain with the three of them was by far one of the greatest highlights for me.




We arrive at our last and final shelter and I know that I have pushed my body to its limits.  Every single step makes me wince a little and my shoulders have had a dull ache for the past 3 days.  My back feels as if I have been transporting Fat Albert rather than the 40 pounds of food and clothes I know something is off when my mind immediately craves water and a bed, not giving a second thought to food.  We again meet our new bunkmates for the night and continue in conversations with Debbie and Dan like we have known them for years.  We are in high spirits as we think about heading back to civilization the next day.  Hillary and I realize that our fears about the bears might have been overrated and all the other hikers confirm this when they say that very few THRU hikers even get to see a bear in the wilderness and they are hiking 2, 200 miles.  We are old pros around the make shift kitchen washing out our plastic bowls and placing our trash in a baggie that we carry around with us.  It is a hard and fast rule that hikers leave "no trace" on the AT.  They want to preserve the trail so any trash that you have, for whatever reason including #1 and #2 needs to be kept with you!  Dirty business, but the least of my worries as I think of some glorious ZZZZZZ's that will be coming my way.  To culminate the night both Hillary and I have placed our name in an AT hiking journal that stays in the shelters and we drift off as we talk about taking a shower and eating real food the next day.  Not ten minutes after I close my eyes do I hear the familiar sound of the men from the night before.  My eyes shoot open and say outloud, "Noooooooooooo!"  Hillary and I both look up as we see two men in their 30s come to the camp.  They introduce themselves to us and then apologize for coming in so late the night before.  I know in my heart that forgiveness is what I should have done, but my grouchy, pounding, sleep-deprived 40 year old body cannot find it in her to do that.  I smirk at them and then roll back over.

After about two hours it is pitch black and my skin begins to crawl as I hear the satanic snoring sounds coming from below me.  I place both hands on my pillow, lower my face and begin screaming every single explicitive I can think of.  The mumbled noises wake up Hillary and her and I exchange a look of desperation.  Nothing seems to wake this man up, however every one else in the shelter is not sleeping a wink.  I am not proud of the murderous thoughts that entered my head that night, but I blame it on my weary mind and taxed body.  Somehow I drifted off and the four of us woke up very early to begin our journey back to cell phones and french fries and running water.

Our goal was a mere 5 miles and after what we had tackled in the last 3 days, this was a piece of cake.  I honestly feel as if we were all rogging (running/jogging) with our backpacks because we were covering about 2 miles an hour.  Dan and Hillary take off in front of Debbie and I and all four of us are engrossed in our conversations.  There was about 50 - 75 yards separating the two of us when I looked over in the trees and I suddenly stop.  Debbie practically runs over me as she says, "What?"  I point over to a tree where a huge mother bear and her two cubs are playing.  Debbie's reply was, "Shit, those are bears."  I look up at Hillary and Dan ahead of us and realize they are brisquely walking with heads down chattering a mile a minute.  Both Debbie and I begin backing up never taking our eyes off the mother and her cubs.  I am certain I have wet myself at this point and I am paralyzed with fright as Debbie begins to fumble for her camera.  I give her this confounded look and she says, "Remember, we need to talk so they know we are here."  I can't seem to find my voice and Debbie begins to take photos of the bears.  The bears are minding their own business and for a brief moment I think it is a beautiful interaction that I have the privelege of witnessing.......then the mama bear looks straight at me.  I panic and begin spouting off sounds and grunts unable to form words with my mouth.  Thinking I am about to become bear food, I begin shouting hysterically,  "A......B......C......D......E......F.........G!"  Debbie gives me a funny look as the alphabet is heard through a shaky voice, but the mama bear gets up and the cubs climb down the tree and they begin to descend over the ridge.

Debbie and I wait before we continue down the path and we are both delirious with excitement as we realize what just happened.  We finally catch up with Dan and Hillary and explain how they walked right past THREE bears in the wild.  We laugh and continue on our journey and enter into a time of thankfulness as we remember our journey.

Our steps increase as the path fades from the rugged dirt that has become so familiar to paved road and limestone rocks.  We begin to recognize people who have showered that very morning and we even smell hot dogs being cooked over the campfire.  I stop and turn to look at the trail behind me as I know this pilgrimage is coming to an end.  I picture the white trail marker that blazes the trail letting hikers know they are traveling along the AT and I quietly say to myself, "Until next time....."



Then I snort and laugh hysterically at the notion and realize Cheryl Strayed was not WILD, she was a CRAZY WHITE GIRL and I am pefectly fine saying that I will never backpack through a wilderness again!



* Note to reader:  the facts and events in the following story are as true an account as I could remember.  Any embellishments are blamed on the two middle-aged bothersome, snoring psychopaths!