What was that?
Sometimes there are things that happen on the trail that you just cannot figure out. How did that ever happen, or what exactly was that. No matter what it is, we all know that it was true, even though others may not believe you. If you would like to submit a story about the experiences you have witnessed as you, traveled or camped along the Appalachian Trail, send an email with the information to: info@atmuseum.org
"Pitch Black" by David A. Grim (JASH - Just A Section Hiker)
I went to the new movie, "Pitch Black", just so I could relive some of my own pitch-black experiences. It was playing at the $1.50 theatre and I always like a good cheap scare. The gist of the story is that a group of people crash-land on a planet that they discover is inhabited by creatures that eat all flesh. These creatures, flying aliens, have one Achilles heel; they can only do their dastardly eating in the dark. The survivors struggle to get off the planet after the landing, needless to say, a bunch of them get eaten along the way. My wife thinks I'm nuts and just doesn't understand why a sane person would pay good money, no matter how little, just to be scared. Ah, but you see there's the rub……. Who says I'm sane?? I mean I've never been tested and wouldn't argue with anyone who would question my mental composure.
Back to the subject, pitch-black. Etymologically, pitch refers to a dark resin from a conifer or as it was first used in 1599, extremely dark. I guess the first time I experienced something that dark was on a family vacation when we visited the Luray Caverns. The tour guide turned out the lights in the cavern and had us rub our hands together quickly. According to the guide, if we rubbed our hands together quickly enough in the pitch-black, we would generate sparks. So there we were, a whole cavern full of tourists getting sucked in by someone's twisted sense of humor. To really appreciate it, you would have to have been there when he turned the lights back on and you saw a cavern full of idiots feverishly rubbing their hands together.
The next time I experienced pitch-black was at Locust Cove Gap. I was hiking solo on the AT and on my way from Fontana Dam to Wesser, NC when my energy level hit zero. It was 7:30 pm on July 2nd 1995 and I had been hiking all day. By now any excuse to drop my pack and take a breather was used. As I sat contemplating my status, I kept thinking about Sassafras Gap Shelter. Earlier in the day I had felt confident I would make it to the shelter. The shelter was now 3.6 miles away or about four hours hiking time because of the mountain I had to go over, Cheoah Bald. My water was low and I needed a good meal. My strength was gone. After a brief moment of rest, I decided to spend the night right where I was.
The Trail guide said water was downhill, as it always is. So I grabbed my filter, water bottles, a gallon zip-loc bag and headed down the hill. Many water trails on The AT are marked with blue blazes. I followed those blue blazes until they ran out. No water but I kept walking. Yea gravity! As I walked, I was sniffing the air and listening for water. About the second turn of the trail after the blazes ran out I began to pick up the sound of water. I followed the dry streambed until it came to life. There under a clump of Rhododendron was water.
I got myself as comfortable as I could and began filtering water. All my senses were kicking in because I got a bright idea. Once my water bottles were full, I would fill my gallon plastic bag full of water and take it back up the hill. As I was climbing out of the creek bed, I punctured the water bag and it began leaking. What to do? Should I let it leak up the hill and take whatever water was left? No, the leak was too fast. I would have no water in the bag by the time I made it back to camp. I decided to juggle two water bottles, a filter and the leaking gallon bag of water. By grabbing the bag just the right way, I sealed off the leak. The only problem was this AT juggling routine cramped my hands something fierce.
Mao said a thousand mile march begins with one step. Well I took him up on that philosophy. One step at a time I crawled up the hill. When I didn't think I could stand the pain in my hands another moment or a water bottle was about ready to fall out of my hands, I stopped. Eventually I made it back to the blue blazes and then to Locust Cove Gap. I grabbed my cooking pot and filled it with water to boil for this evening's dinner.
It was now 8:00 pm and I knew night would be coming in about an hour. I began to set up my tent. The nearby rhododendron furnished a soft floor for my tent. I felt no remorse about stripping the plant of leaves since forests of the plant were choking out nice hard woods and pines. Up went my tent. Next came dinner. While I was boiling the water, I did every chore around the camp I could. I set up my bear bag and got my clothes ready for the next day. Dinner was consumed as quickly as I could. It was a race with the sun and against the dark. Bugs were beginning to come out now; Mosquitoes, flies and other bigger beasts. Before I called it a night, I tried to make sure no food residue was left in the campsite at all. I prayed there were no bears in the area. As I crawled into my tent, I ran through my mental checklist for the evening.
" Bear bag up in the tree.
" Pack covered with a plastic bag in case of rain.
" Fresh clothes on or ready for next day.
" Flash light and watch in tent pocket.
" Teeth flossed and brushed.
I was ready to sleep now. As I lay on my sleeping bag, my body ached with fatigue. My stomach grumbled despite a meal. No snacks tonight. Boy, I can't believe I eat most evenings back in the world. About two-dozen small flies were caught outside my tent but under my rain fly. They buzzed angrily trying to figure how to get to me or out of their predicament. Gradually, oh so gradually, darkness came to the woods.
I awoke with a start and heard a rustle around my tent. It was dark now. My tired eyes strained for any light at all. My eyes were wide open and could see no sign of light at all; it was pitch-black. I reached with my hand in front of my face so as to block any light; it didn't make any difference at all. I moved my hand closer to my face until I felt it touch my nose. This dark was one so black I literally could not see my own hand touching the nose on my face. I listened intently in the pitch-black.
There it was again. The sound was like a small two-legged creature running in the dark. How big was it? The movie Jurassic Park came to mind. I envisioned minidinosaurs running around in the woods. Forest creatures make a living by finding things around them to eat. They are either very good at it or they die!! As I pondered that thought, it ran by again. Would it nibble at my tent or pack? Would it draw even larger predators? Oh great. Why hadn't I eaten my meal away from the camping area? I regretted my decision but in retrospect, was too fatigued to have done it a lot differently. At one point I screamed at the top of my lungs to scare it away. It made no difference. Tossing and turning I dozed on and off until dawn.
Most of the time on The Trail I would need an alarm to wake me. I usually set the alarm so I can get a good start on The Trail. Not the next morning, I was happy to crawl out of my tent. There was no sign of the creatures of the night. With my gear packed, no one could tell I had spent a night at Locust Cove Gap. Had I made a great deal out of nothing?
About a year later my wife and I went camping in the Pisgah National forest. Our tent was set up near a stream and what must have been a midnight highway for the little creatures I had experienced at Locust Cove Gap. As one after another of them pounded into the side of our tent, my wife whispered, "What was that?" I told her not to worry. It was pitch-black and I smiled in the darkness. I still didn't have any idea what they were but this time I felt perfectly safe. The gentle pounding against the side our tent was now a familiar friend.
Now I know thru-hikers never worry about either pitch-black or other creatures of the night. As for me, I'm Just A Section Hiker.
Happy Trails,
"Pitch Black" by David A. Grim (JASH - Just A Section Hiker)
I went to the new movie, "Pitch Black", just so I could relive some of my own pitch-black experiences. It was playing at the $1.50 theatre and I always like a good cheap scare. The gist of the story is that a group of people crash-land on a planet that they discover is inhabited by creatures that eat all flesh. These creatures, flying aliens, have one Achilles heel; they can only do their dastardly eating in the dark. The survivors struggle to get off the planet after the landing, needless to say, a bunch of them get eaten along the way. My wife thinks I'm nuts and just doesn't understand why a sane person would pay good money, no matter how little, just to be scared. Ah, but you see there's the rub……. Who says I'm sane?? I mean I've never been tested and wouldn't argue with anyone who would question my mental composure.
Back to the subject, pitch-black. Etymologically, pitch refers to a dark resin from a conifer or as it was first used in 1599, extremely dark. I guess the first time I experienced something that dark was on a family vacation when we visited the Luray Caverns. The tour guide turned out the lights in the cavern and had us rub our hands together quickly. According to the guide, if we rubbed our hands together quickly enough in the pitch-black, we would generate sparks. So there we were, a whole cavern full of tourists getting sucked in by someone's twisted sense of humor. To really appreciate it, you would have to have been there when he turned the lights back on and you saw a cavern full of idiots feverishly rubbing their hands together.
The next time I experienced pitch-black was at Locust Cove Gap. I was hiking solo on the AT and on my way from Fontana Dam to Wesser, NC when my energy level hit zero. It was 7:30 pm on July 2nd 1995 and I had been hiking all day. By now any excuse to drop my pack and take a breather was used. As I sat contemplating my status, I kept thinking about Sassafras Gap Shelter. Earlier in the day I had felt confident I would make it to the shelter. The shelter was now 3.6 miles away or about four hours hiking time because of the mountain I had to go over, Cheoah Bald. My water was low and I needed a good meal. My strength was gone. After a brief moment of rest, I decided to spend the night right where I was.
The Trail guide said water was downhill, as it always is. So I grabbed my filter, water bottles, a gallon zip-loc bag and headed down the hill. Many water trails on The AT are marked with blue blazes. I followed those blue blazes until they ran out. No water but I kept walking. Yea gravity! As I walked, I was sniffing the air and listening for water. About the second turn of the trail after the blazes ran out I began to pick up the sound of water. I followed the dry streambed until it came to life. There under a clump of Rhododendron was water.
I got myself as comfortable as I could and began filtering water. All my senses were kicking in because I got a bright idea. Once my water bottles were full, I would fill my gallon plastic bag full of water and take it back up the hill. As I was climbing out of the creek bed, I punctured the water bag and it began leaking. What to do? Should I let it leak up the hill and take whatever water was left? No, the leak was too fast. I would have no water in the bag by the time I made it back to camp. I decided to juggle two water bottles, a filter and the leaking gallon bag of water. By grabbing the bag just the right way, I sealed off the leak. The only problem was this AT juggling routine cramped my hands something fierce.
Mao said a thousand mile march begins with one step. Well I took him up on that philosophy. One step at a time I crawled up the hill. When I didn't think I could stand the pain in my hands another moment or a water bottle was about ready to fall out of my hands, I stopped. Eventually I made it back to the blue blazes and then to Locust Cove Gap. I grabbed my cooking pot and filled it with water to boil for this evening's dinner.
It was now 8:00 pm and I knew night would be coming in about an hour. I began to set up my tent. The nearby rhododendron furnished a soft floor for my tent. I felt no remorse about stripping the plant of leaves since forests of the plant were choking out nice hard woods and pines. Up went my tent. Next came dinner. While I was boiling the water, I did every chore around the camp I could. I set up my bear bag and got my clothes ready for the next day. Dinner was consumed as quickly as I could. It was a race with the sun and against the dark. Bugs were beginning to come out now; Mosquitoes, flies and other bigger beasts. Before I called it a night, I tried to make sure no food residue was left in the campsite at all. I prayed there were no bears in the area. As I crawled into my tent, I ran through my mental checklist for the evening.
" Bear bag up in the tree.
" Pack covered with a plastic bag in case of rain.
" Fresh clothes on or ready for next day.
" Flash light and watch in tent pocket.
" Teeth flossed and brushed.
I was ready to sleep now. As I lay on my sleeping bag, my body ached with fatigue. My stomach grumbled despite a meal. No snacks tonight. Boy, I can't believe I eat most evenings back in the world. About two-dozen small flies were caught outside my tent but under my rain fly. They buzzed angrily trying to figure how to get to me or out of their predicament. Gradually, oh so gradually, darkness came to the woods.
I awoke with a start and heard a rustle around my tent. It was dark now. My tired eyes strained for any light at all. My eyes were wide open and could see no sign of light at all; it was pitch-black. I reached with my hand in front of my face so as to block any light; it didn't make any difference at all. I moved my hand closer to my face until I felt it touch my nose. This dark was one so black I literally could not see my own hand touching the nose on my face. I listened intently in the pitch-black.
There it was again. The sound was like a small two-legged creature running in the dark. How big was it? The movie Jurassic Park came to mind. I envisioned minidinosaurs running around in the woods. Forest creatures make a living by finding things around them to eat. They are either very good at it or they die!! As I pondered that thought, it ran by again. Would it nibble at my tent or pack? Would it draw even larger predators? Oh great. Why hadn't I eaten my meal away from the camping area? I regretted my decision but in retrospect, was too fatigued to have done it a lot differently. At one point I screamed at the top of my lungs to scare it away. It made no difference. Tossing and turning I dozed on and off until dawn.
Most of the time on The Trail I would need an alarm to wake me. I usually set the alarm so I can get a good start on The Trail. Not the next morning, I was happy to crawl out of my tent. There was no sign of the creatures of the night. With my gear packed, no one could tell I had spent a night at Locust Cove Gap. Had I made a great deal out of nothing?
About a year later my wife and I went camping in the Pisgah National forest. Our tent was set up near a stream and what must have been a midnight highway for the little creatures I had experienced at Locust Cove Gap. As one after another of them pounded into the side of our tent, my wife whispered, "What was that?" I told her not to worry. It was pitch-black and I smiled in the darkness. I still didn't have any idea what they were but this time I felt perfectly safe. The gentle pounding against the side our tent was now a familiar friend.
Now I know thru-hikers never worry about either pitch-black or other creatures of the night. As for me, I'm Just A Section Hiker.
Happy Trails,