Weather or not, life is grand on the trail.

Weather is one thing that we cannot control, at least not yet. On the appalachian Trail, weather can make or break a hike. But it is always there, and if you learn to live with it, even the bad stuff, you will always have something to smile about or share a story about. If you would like to submit a story about the weather experiences you have witnessed as you traveled or camped along the Appalachian Trail, send an email with the information to: trailtales@atmuseum.org

"Rain" by David A. Grim (JASH - Just A Section Hiker)

When I think about rain, the first thing that comes to mind is the rain I experienced living in Louisiana. The rain can come down so hard in that part of the country you literally can't see the hood ornament on the front of your car. Wild Cajun drivers have been known to have head-on collisions when driving in these heavy monsoons by driving down narrow streets with their heads out the window for visibility. They physically bump heads. Ouch!!

The second thing I think about when it comes to rain is the Summit Venture. The Summit Venture was a large seagoing ship that tried to navigate the waters of Tampa Bay Florida in just such rainy weather. The ship knocked out the center span of the southbound lane of a four-lane bridge sending a busload of unlucky people to their deaths in the murky waters of the bay. If you travel south across the new Sunshine Skyway today, look west and you'll see the remains of the old bridge.

As I hiked North along a stretch of the AT just past Unaka Mountain in September of '96, I kept thinking about rain. It had been raining on and off all day. As do all hikers, I had a dilemma on my hands. Should I get rain-wet or sweat-wet? I elected sweat-wet and kept hiking up the mountain with a limited view because of my backpacker's poncho. Just after the eerie green light on the top of Unaka Mountain, I began happily cruising down the backside of Unaka on my way to Cherry Gap Shelter.

The rain let up so I could take a dry water break, which is probably some kind of oxymoron like military intelligence or something. Anyhow, as soon as I put my poncho away for the umteenth time that day, it began to rain again. On came the poncho and I hiked on with only the sound of rain pattering on the leaves of the ever so green trees about me and the swish of my wet poncho against my body. Being low on water I began to worry when I would cross water again. As a hiker I am constantly thirsty and water is the only beverage that does it for me. Finally, the rain quit and I found water.

Hurricane Fran was coming my way and I had been out section hiking long enough this trip to not know if the rain was the hurricane coming my way or just normal rainy weather in September. I was watered up and having just crossed the highest point for the day, according to the liar's legend at the bottom of my map, was ready to get to the shelter and off my feet. As usual, The AT had other things in mind.

I picked up my pace from about 2 to 4 miles per hour. The Trail had become relatively level and I wanted to be out of the impending witches brew of weather. At first I smelled the change in weather and felt the wind pick up. The trees began to sway vigorously back and forth and the thunderstorm began to move in. To add insult to injury, with my poncho on, I couldn't get to my water easily. My pack was relatively dry and I wanted, at all cost, to keep it that way.

Suddenly I heard thunder and saw lightening all about me. Let's see how does that work? For every second you can count from the flash of lightening until you hear the thunder is a mile. Flash, I began counting, one thousand one, one thousand two, one thousand three….bang. I repeated the process until I couldn't even say one before the thunder would sound. I'm a fatalist and don't believe in mother nature but do believe in God. I believe that your days are numbered and you can't leave this life one minute before or one second later than HE has determined. Just to play it safe I prayed as I hiked figuring he may be busy and wanted to be sure if it wasn't my time yet, I wouldn't fall into the oversight category when entering heaven. Did you know if you're alone and laugh out loud at yourself in the wilderness, nobody can hear you?

With each step I became thirstier and yet was surrounded by water. The rain began to pour down now. This was Summit Venture quantity rain and I was dying of thirst. Just about then I noticed something I had overlooked with my limited visibility, a pocket of water forming in the crook of my poncho covered arm as I hiked. What the hay, I drank from the pocket. As fast as I could drink it was refilled. Yep, who says prayer doesn't work?? You do have to keep your eyes open though.

Did you ever wonder why The Trail looks like a small riverbed in places? I found out. As the rain poured down I saw places that the map indicated would be okay to camp that looked like lakes. As I hiked up a small hill, down came a chameleon floating on a log in the torrent. Yep, he was going white water rafting today and I could tell he wanted off in the worst way. My gortex lined boots, designed to keep me dry, were filled with water inside and out. I didn't have one dry spot on my body under my sweat-wet poncho by the time I pulled into Cherry Gap Shelter.

My first order of business upon arriving at the shelter was to hang up all of my wet clothes to dry. As I sat in the shelter, alone except for a ground squirrel and wearing nothing but a smile, I momentarily considered changing my Trail handle to "Buck Naked". I knew that wouldn't do though because I could just see myself meeting someone on The Trail and having them ask my name. Yes sir, my name is "Buck Naked". Nope I decided to leave bad enough alone. When people ask me who I am, I tell them I'm Just A Section Hiker or unimaginatively shortened to JASH.

Happy Trails

Jash

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Copyright © 2004 Appalachian Trail Museum Society
Last Modified 10/18/04

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