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Tellico
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Musings of a Thru-Hiker

Tellico Gap

 "Now you do not need to be afraid of the dark any more,
    nor fear the dangers ... nor dread the plaques of darkness."
        Psalm 91

    "Now I lay me down to sleep,
    I pray the Lord my soul to keep,
    if I die before I wake,
    I pray the Lord my soul to take."
        A child's prayer

    I continued  to  review the maps by the dim light of the single cell solitaire  until the bulb began to weaken.  I folded the maps and carefully placed them in the pocket of the pack, and realized that my evenings  had  already  developed  into  a  precise  routine.   At  night,  the  last thing before closing my eyes, I carefully check the screw top lids on the water bottles  to  ensure  no accidental  spillage during the night, I check the placement of pack, boots, and cook-kit.  The cook-kit  is  always farthest from my head if it is not hung with the bear bags.  Over to the  right, I place my watch and flashlight.  The flashlight is tied to  the  drawstring of  one  of  the stuff sacks so that it can be easily found.  A pillow is fashioned from clean clothes, as available, and any wet items such as socks, shorts, or shirt are either stuffed into the sleeping bag to dry via body heat during the night,  or they are left out in the night air.  Each item is in its place.

    The  entire  tent  is  neatly  arranged.  The flaps are stretched out allowing ample breeze and preventing any undesirable condensation in the tent.  The tradeoff is in the event of heavy rain, then it will be necessary to crawl  outside  in  the rain  to  tie down the tent flaps in order to prevent drenching the contents of the  tent.  This procedure gives rise to cool clamoring chills  that  penetrate  to  the     bone.   No  surer  method exits for arousing a sound sleeper. Considerable time is then required to regain sufficient body warmth to stop  the  convulsive  chattering and uncontrollable shivering.  Internally the body races from a completely inactive  state  to  painfully conscious activity.  Finally the shock is overcome and restful sleep is nearly regained.  The ensuing rest is not  near  so  sound,  as  the  body remains  partially  alert  invoking  some protective mechanisms to ensure that such shocks are not repeated.  The decision to leave the tent flaps up is not one to  be  made lightly.

    In  my  last conscious moments, I remember hearing the wind rustle the leaves; the woods are silent except for the creaking of nylon cord under the strain of food bags swinging in the night air.  The tent is zipped tight  as  if  the  ultra  thin nylon  chosen  for  its  light  weight  offers  protection from anything out in the night.  No doubt it is another ritual that has been carried over from life  in  the  city.   At  night  the  doors are tightly shut, and dead bolts are securely locked.  The familiar feel and smell of home, favorite pillow, and the comforting  sound  of  the  heat  pump's whirl, the icemaker's gurgle, and occasional neighborhood traffic  adds to one's sense of security at home.  Even a  distant  siren  is  not  terribly  disturbing.   Yet  one  strange  thump  or  unexplained clank, and all the security vanishes.  The inhabitants of the house are  left  wide-eyed,  listening  intently,  very still, concentrating and trying to determine the source of the sound:  did the  dishwasher  break  again?   perhaps,  a limb fell on the roof?  was it just the ice shifting in the icemaker, just the wind?  or maybe it was something more sinister?

 

None of the familiar sounds of home are heard in the woods above Tellico  Gap. The sounds of nighttime in the woods are very different.  No traffic, no trains, no  sirens,  no  icemakers,  just silence and the wind?  Even when physically exhausted the senses continue to strain to identify every sound.   Just  the  rustle  of  the  leaves,  and nylon stretching under the weight of the food bags.  Are the bags high enough, out of reach?  Is it the wind or some other nighttime  visitor  making  the  nylon  creak?   At  home  one  might  be  tempted  to turn on a light, ward off the  darkness, and see what is so very close.  A small flashlight is of little use other  than to entice greater fear.  The tent is taught, and  no  strong  food  odors  are present.  Perhaps it would have been wise to hang the cook-kit and also the clothes  that  were worn to cook in along with the food bags.  Too late now to let that be a  concern.  Meals should always be prepared down wind away from the campsite so  that the  aroma  from  cooking and eating is carried away and not back into the tent and sleeping area.

 

Longer days and greater  physical  exertion  will  help  replace  the  comfort afforded  by the missing city noises, and slowly security and comfort must be found in the openness and stillness of the woods.  For now, prayer could not hurt. 

 

                            Peace,

                            Slim