Day Fifteen- Entry: Sep 24, 2013--what's a bald?

Wayah Bald. I got a ride into and back from Franklin by a fellow named Chuck. He told me the story of Rufus Morgan, a local minister, who had built his church. The mythology is that he was the sole, local AMC member for about 30 years. He did all the local trail maintenance until he was 80 years old or so. Chuck took me to see the church--just as you'd expect, humble and functional. Built into the stone foundation were the tombstones of Rufus family. On the way, we passed what was once Rufus' house except it had burned down when Rufus was in his 80s. The chimney was still there and the front steps and it actually looked like the yard was kept up-- a monument to his work, I guess, and the the trajedy of loosing everything the man owned at 80 something. The hills we drove through were similar to the hills around central Maine-- lots of farming. When we did get to the church, Chuck and I were both surprised to see an addition being put on. Not for the addition, but for the choice of material. Cinder block foundation and particle board siding. Chuck said he was going to have words with some folks in town.
As we got close to Winding Stair Gap, Chuck asked which side of the road I wanted to be dropped off on. Well, which side is the trail on? He pointed out that I had been picked up on the south side of the highway and the trail continues on the north side of the highway. Yea, so? Well, he had to ask if it was important to me to walk across the road, you know--was I a purist who had to pass every white blaze? I figured that's not the AT-- that's US 64 and those are not white blazes-- they are yellow stripes. Just let me out on the north side and we'll call it a safety measure as I believe in a hiker vs truck on a highway, the hiker would loose.
I slog up Siler Bald, and then Wayah Bald, a "peak" of some prominence in these parts with a great stone tower at the top and you really can see forever. I don't waste anytime because it's before noon and I'm feeling pretty good, so I'm going to bypass Wayah Bald shelter about a mile further on and make for Cold Spring Shelter, 5 miles Further on. That would make it almost a 16 mile day. So coming down off this bald, I notice that another trail has commingled with the AT. That familiar white blaze now has a shiny yellow blaze next to it. This would be the Bertram trail. After about a half mile or so I make a sharp right or east turn avoiding the sign that says "shelter" turn left or west. Usually the shelters are located a half mile or so off the trail blazed with blue blazes. That shelter not for me I'm pushing on baby. So the yellow blazes become more frequent and the trail keeps going down and down and down. I've lost all white blazes by now although I could have sworn there were some, well, every so often. It's amazing how white some of that tree fungus can look when you really want to see white. So I keep walking down down down. I passed Wayah Bald shelter around 3 pm. Around 4:30 I reach a sign that says Locust Tree Gap No. 2. That little voice in my head is now screaming, 'this is supposed to be Burning town Gap.' I start trying to rationalize, not making that return trip up up up to Wayah Bald shelter. If I had a topo map and compass, maybe I could figure out how to hook up with the AT by keeping on the way I was going … Something akin to my mother's voice told me to suck it up and start back up hill. I spent the night at Wayah Bald shelter. I got in about a 6 mile-r. If I had just hiked to the shelter it would have been an 11 mile day. I'm calling it a 14 mile day and I don't care what you think.
The idea that I'd have to drag my sorry stumble butt across US 64 just to say I completed the AT is crap --spent my first night alone in a shelter--well me, the mice and the owls --was luxurious --zip tried to start a fire but everything was so wet I couldn't even get something to burn using my stove as a starter. It got cool at night and I was thankful for my sleeping bag which was zipped up tight with the hood cinched for most of the evening. Up until now I usually crawled into my liner bag and threw the bag over me quilt style.
73° Sunny
Nantahala National Forest, Franklin, NC, United States

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