Rain drops started tapping on the tent fly just before am. Around , I took advantage of a brief lull to add a few drops of my own to the landscape before climbing back in to my nice, warm, dry sleeping bag while I waited for the sunrise. The rain and I both drifted in and out until about By then, it was both light enough to see and dry enough to pack up without getting totally soaked. I could hear Buff rustling in his tent a few feet away and knew he was itching to get moving too.
Yestereday, his wife had texted that Phoenix hit 97F. We packed our wet tents quickly and headed out just after am into a cold, foggy, drizzle. Once again, the rain prevented us from taking breaks, although we did stop in at the Davenport Gap Shelter, the last one in the Smokies to be enclosed in chain link fencing.
Either way, I could imagine bears and hogs lined up outside the fence, pointing and staring at the humans, and wondering whether the inhabitants would get more active at feeding time.
After that, we had a short walk through the dense jungle foliage of the Pigeon River Valley. Poison ivy dominated the trailside and had me scratching phantom itches until I climbed a thousand feet up the other side of the valley. Much of the trail talk since entering the Smokies centered around whether to stop at the Standing Bear Hostel for the night, for a quick resupply, or avoid it altogether. You know, people like me. And just as many negative comments about the people who made the first kind of comments.
So, of course, I needed to see for myself. And I needed a few resupply items before heading off to Hot Springs. As we walked up the side road to the hostel, a police cruiser passed us and turned in to the parking lot.
