DAY 3: DERRICK KNOB SHELTER TO DOUBLE COLD SPRING SHELTER

We woke on the morning of Day 3, hoping and praying that the sun would be shining.  But, the Smoky Mountains had other plans.  Still, there's a certain beauty in the fog and rain...

Because of my new-found resistance to anything sweet, we opted to make a bag of instant mashed potatoes for breakfast.  Ordinarily, that wouldn't sound good to me, but I was so hungry that I managed to take down an entire bag by myself!  Bellies full, we turned to the daily task at had: packing up all our gear and, like the morning before, changing back into our wet, smelly clothes from the day before.  It's absolutely essential that you keep a dry set of come kind of clothes to change into once you reach camp because when you're up at the higher elevations (once we made the climb out of Fontana Dam, we stayed well above 4,000 feet for the remainder of the hike), the air is thinner and cool.  So, off came the nice, dry clothes and on went the soggy ones...worse than putting on a wet bathing suit...but once they're on, you adjust pretty quickly.  This time, we put on our rain ponchos because we knew that, already being wet, we would most likely chill easily. 

Trying to maintain my sense of humor...

It didn't take long for the rain to start again, turning an already soaked trail into a treacherous, 18-inch wide mud puddle. The wind whipped around us, forcing us to put up our hoods.  Other times, I had to put the hood down because it interfered with my peripheral vision, something that could be dangerous.  We stopped in one shelter for a much-needed respite from the rain, and met up with a father and son team from a Scout group that was completing a training hike.  He said they'd opted to stay at that shelter rather than continue to Double Cold Springs because they were simply miserable.  Couldn't really argue with that logic, but our shelter reservations said we had to move on.  So, we loaded up and got ready to head out.  Just as we went to step out of the shelter, this group of younger people asked if anyone had a cell phone they could use to call for a pick-up at Clingman's Dome.  Apparently theirs was dead.  (Insert the sound of chirping crickets as we stood there, looking at them, trying to decide it we really wanted to unpack our bags just to get a phone.  Needless to say, we believe that you can't go wrong helping people out (especially common on the trail), so we dug my sister's phone out and let them use it.  Signal was spotty, so we soon had to move on, but told them if we saw them at the next shelter, they could try again.  And off we went...back out into the driving rain...

Because of my ankle, I was always a fair distance behind my sister and brother.  Sometimes it was almost more than I could stand, but I had no choice but to drive on.  At one point, the trail narrowed to go between some large boulders.  With my feet submerged in water and mud, I somehow managed to get my feet tangled in something, and I felt myself falling to the left, almost as if in slow motion.  I didn't have a lot of momentum really, but I knew I was going to hit the rock to my left with my left hip.  Once I stopped falling sideways, I began to slide down backwards until I found myself wedged between the rocks.  To ad insult to injury, my feet went out from under me and I landed on my butt, right in a puddle of water and mud.  I remember thinking to myself, "Could this really get any worse?"  I yelled for my sister and brother to help me, but by the time they realized I'd fallen, I managed to roll around in the mud and get to my knees, and then back up on my feet.  Other than a bruise on my hip, I wasn't hurt, so I was grateful for that.  I sucked up my hurt ego and moved on.

We arrived at the Double Cold Springs Shelter in the pouring rain.  I don't think I've ever been as glad to see one of those crusty old building in my life...

We proceeded with our typical camp routine...we got the water we'd need for that night and following morning and secured our spot in the shelter.  I had my pack cover on my pack, but thanks to my water-front seat in the mud, the bottom of my pack was filled with water.  Thank goodness I always put my clothes and stuff in waterproof bags inside my pack.  The very end of my sleeping bag somehow managed to get wet, but I spread it out and hoped it would dry before nightfall.  With the shelter full, there was no space to hang any wet clothes or gear, so we took the paracord that came with the bear bag and strung it up all across the shelter, making plenty of room for all of our fellow soaked hikers to hang their stuff.

As wet, cold, tired and hungry as we all were, I have to say that this night spent at Double Cold Springs Shelter was, by far, my favorite.  We'd been shelter-hoping with a lovely young lady named Marissa and a wonderful lady by the name of Donelle.  It was here that we had the pleasure of meeting Goose, a man that I can truthfully say completely rocked the male hiking kilt!  I remember him sitting at the table, quietly making his dinner as someone mentioned how great it would be to get a fire going in the fireplace.  He casually looked at us and said, "If you can get a fire going tonight, I'll name my firstborn son after you."  Goose's spot in the shelter was next to mine, so many more laughs were shared by all of us as we lay in our sleeping bags, trying to get warm.

The weather gods must have decided we had all had enough, because the rain suddenly stopped, giving us a much-needed, well-deserved break.  For the first time since we'd started our hike, the shelter area blessed us with a privy, set off the side of the structure, maybe 200 feet or so.  I grabbed my supplies and headed down the muddy trail.  Trying to keep my camp shoes as clean as possible (which was a lost cause, by the way), I wasn't paying attention to what was in front of me.  Next thing I know, I look up and there's a huge doe walking right down the trail towards me.  Now, I'm not afraid of deer, but just the fact that a large animal suddenly appeared in front of me startled me...

...and suddenly, I was given my trail name...by another hiker...just like I'd read about.  She said my trail name should be Headlight because of that "deer-in-the-headlight" look I had on my face.  Headlight...I would never have come up with that, but I like it.  I will be officially known on the A.T. as Headlight from that moment on.

I didn't get many pictures that day.  The rain and the poncho kind of made it impossible.  But I remember it well.  We made a group decision that night to call our shuttle and beg her to pick us up the next day at Clingman's Dome.  I felt like I was quitting in some ways...we had one more night left before our scheduled pick-up at Newfound Gap...but I knew it was time.  Between not being able to eat, the pain of my ankle, and just being demoralized by being soaked for two days straight...it was time to call it.  But our last night of this section hike was spent with a shelter full of amazing people...people who came in as strangers and left as friends.