The first day off

Or a ”zero” in thru-hiker slang.

A few days ago, I had my proudest accomplishment of my time out here; not due to some number of miles hiked or mountains climbed, but by jumping into a foreign social situation and having a great time. It feels noteworthy enough to write down. 

My good friend at this point, Not Yet (Danny, off the trail), who is section hiking the first 350 miles of the AT, had an off-trail excursion planned around his arrival at mile 205/the road that takes you to Gatlinburg and Pigeon Forge, the home of Dollywood. Danny, his partner, and their friends reserved an Airbnb to hang out, explore the area, and do Dollywood and other Dollywood adjacent activities (they are big Dolly Parton fans).

I was surprised and honored to be invited to join them. To stick with my mantra of pushing myself socially, I said yes and was able to enjoy a fun day and a half off-trail with some new friends. 

I’m writing this post because the dichotomy between trail life and this diversion was possibly as stark as anything I've experienced, and all quite amusing in retrospect. If you have read Bill Bryson's A Walk in the Woods, you may be familiar with this concept (thanks to those of you who recommended it, and even loaned me a copy in the preceding months).

Trail life involves quiet, peace, nature, a lack of intense stimulation, a need to be aware of risks, lack of food, lack of amenities, collaboration with strangers, and physical activity. The Gatlinburg experience is the polar opposite. We spent our time there lounging in a hot tub, bouncing between moonshine tastings, wandering through a man-made island with 4 different Margaritaville properties, eating fudge, and attending Dolly Parton’s Stampede dinner. The latter of which involves watching a live, north vs south themed production featuring dozens of horses that are sometimes jumping through wheels of fire, and sometimes dressed as glow in the dark butterflies. All of this occurs while you are served a 4 course finger food forward meal, where one of those courses is an entire rotisserie chicken. 

It’s also worth noting that when you need a ride on the trail, the typical experience involves a trusting former hiker asking about your journey, followed by them reminiscing about their own time on-trail. Oftentimes, this ride is free, and it takes effort to force a tip to be accepted (I've only succeeded once). In Gatlinburg, of our three Uber drivers, two made a point to tell us they were “packing,” followed by a hip-smack to indicate their gun's location.

While I wouldn’t trade my new friends and experience there for anything, I can’t help but look back and chuckle at two of the most different days of my life, which happened to occur on consecutive days. Being back on the trail now, I’m feeling a sense of relief, minor whiplash, and contentment in the adventure this hike has continued to provide.