05/14

A gentle but steady rain was accompanied by the chirps and croaks of frogs and crickets. There’s a musicality to it all that can only be appreciated under a sagging tent fly and sleep deprivation. I’ve reached the kind of fatigue where I feel like I’m sleepwalking through the day. Even the promise of a warm bed and shower wasn’t enough motivation to get me moving. Not when there were still 13 miles standing between me and “Uncle Johnny’s”.

The map made it look manageable. Flat terrain, it said. A nice easy stroll, it said. But I’ve been out here long enough to know there’s no such thing. “Flat” means something different in Appalachia. Usually just a cruel joke drawn in topographic lines.

The miles leading into Erwin, TN were a reminder of hurricane Helene’s wrath. Entire hillsides stripped bare, blowdowns stacked like matchsticks, an arboreal graveyard. What once was forest now looked like a battlefield. The roar of the Nolichucky River could be heard through the gorge as we approached. Not long ago, that same river had overrun its banks, swallowing parts of the town below. From our bunk at the hostel, we could see what was left of a bridge, two halves staring at each other from opposite shores.

As a Floridian, I know hurricanes. I’ve seen what they can do to coastlines, how they peel back roofs and swallow roads. But it’s different seeing that kind of violence this far inland, where people probably thought they were safe. You don’t expect to see whole towns gutted this deep in the mountains. But here, people are still missing. Houses gone. Shops shuttered. There’s a quiet heaviness that clings to the place.

We hiked down into the town to the soundtrack of trucks hauling lumber, hauling rock, hauling hope in bulk. They didn’t stop. All through the night they rumbled down the road like soldiers in retreat. But I didn’t mind the noise. We slept easily, bellies full, bags dry for once. Tomorrow begins another 50 mile push to the next town. Another stretch of forest, weather, and whatever else the trail decides to throw at us.