04/12

The sun rose slowly, as if reluctant to disturb the hush that hung over the forest. A thin veil of fog peeled from the trees, revealing frost-bitten limbs which caught the morning light like ornaments. With a lazy breeze, the ice shook free from the branches in a glittering snow. Each breath became a cloud, lingering just long enough to be noticed. To this Florida native, it felt like a winter wonderland.

We’d slept with our water filters tucked in our pockets, protecting them from the frost, which would’ve otherwise rendered them useless. Twenty-nine degrees with wind chill, made us even more grateful to have traded our hammocks for the warmth of tents, just the day before.

My feet, while still sore, were more comfortable in my newly acquired shoes. Even still, I placed every step with a careful hesitation, as to avoid the blunt impact of rocky terrain.

An otherwise uneventful day, we took our time admiring the beauty North Carolina so graciously offered.

After our eight mile stroll, we made the decision to set up camp at the base of “Standing Indian Mountain”, avoiding the harsh winds, and saving the 5,500ft summit for tomorrow.