[at-l] 8 Years again....

[camojack at comcast.net]

"'Hmmm, cheeseburgers' I thought. Cheeseburgers, indeed."

When I was getting ready to summit Mt. Washington, all I kept thinking about was getting a cheeseburger at the cafeteria on the top. 
(Boy, was I disappointed; they didn't sell 'em...the bastards)

-"Camo"

-------------- Original message -------------- 
From: Felix J <athiker at smithville.net> 

> The psychologist I'd shared the shelter with got up and left early. I 
> talked to him from the 
> comfort of my sleeping bag. I finally got up and left at around 9ish. 
> Almost the second I left the shelter, it started drizzling. It was 
> raining steadily by the time I started up Max Patch. The winds picked 
> up, as usual. The Smokys were now clearly visible. Clearly visible in 
> the sense that I could see that they were socked in. It was an 
> incredible feeling to be looking at those mountains knowing that the 
> next day I would be entering the Granddaddy of them all: The Smoky 
> Mountains. 
> As I climbed higher on the side of Max Patch, the winds and rains 
> increased. Then, as 
> I was 50 yards from what appears to be the summit, Brother Cain's "Fools 
> Shine On" rockin' my headsetted world, 
> "BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!! This is 
> a warning. The National Weather Service has issued a Severe Winter Storm 
> Warning for all of Western Carolina and Eastern Tennessee." What a rush 
> to be standing on Max Patch, looking at the Smokes, and hear that kind 
> of weather report, while watching it get ready to happen. Incredible. 
> 
> I picked up the pace considerably after that. I stopped for a break at 
> Groundhog Gap Shelter. I was freezing, wet. I knew that I was either 
> staying there, or getting out of there soon. Too cold for standing 
> around. My arms could barely move and my fingers couldn't open a Ziploc. 
> I headed up Snowbird in a steady, heavy rain. I almost regretted 
> leaving the shelter until I remembered that I could try to get to Mt. 
> Moma's instead of Davenport Gap Shelter. "Hmmm, cheeseburgers" I 
> thought. Cheeseburgers, indeed. I trudged on. It was a little after 4:00 
> when I crossed under I-40. When I got back into the woods, the clouds 
> and rhododendrons made it look much, much later. When I got to Davenport 
> Gap, 
> it was dark. I stood on the gravel road, cold rain falling, Smokys mere 
> feet in front of me. "Felix," said the cheeseburger. "Yes?" I replied. 
> "Go to the light, boy". As I walked down the muddy road, I could feel 
> the magnificence of the Smokys to my right. I couldn't see it, but I 
> could surely feel it. 
> I could smell it. It was wonderful. 
> 
> I walked what seemed like 6 hours in that rain and fog. It was only 
> about 45 minutes, though. When I could finally see the lights of Mt. 
> Moma's through the fog, I was happy. I walked in the door at 15 minutes 
> 'til 6. Every eye in the place was on me. A long-haired, long-bearded, 
> soaking wet hiker walks in an hour after dark? He's crazy. God, I love 
> being crazy. 
> 
> "You got someplace where hikers stay?" I asked a room full of quiet, 
> starin' folx. 
> "Well, there's the bunkhouse," a bewildered woman said. She said 
> something to the man next to her and he left the room. "Go to the pink 
> bunkhouse and I'll get you a plate of food." 
> "How about one of those Texas Cheeseburgers" I thought. Well, I liked 
> the thought of it so well that I said it, too. 
> "The grille's closed. I'll get you a plate of food." 
> 
> I went outside to wander around the parking lot in the pea soup fog and 
> rain. I saw the bunkhouses, but couldn't tell which one was pink. 
> Finally, the man who had left the room walked up with a flashlight and 
> space heater and directed me to the pink bunkhouse. He told me to put on 
> some dry cloths and come back inside and get my food. I did. 
> I looked at the disposable cameras on the counter. I could not buy one. 
> Luck was 
> taunting me. It knew that I had $11, American. It knew that my 'room' 
> was $10. It 
> knew that Mt. Moma took no credit card. I took the single remaining 
> dollar and bought a Pepsi. I took my Pepsi and a picnic basket of food, 
> and a towel, 
> with me back to the bunkhouse. 
> 
> I cuddled up next to that space heater and ate. Ham, sweet potatoes, 
> dressing, green beans, cranberry sauce, rolls and the best cupcake I've 
> ever had. Easily, this was the most special Christmas Dinner of my life. 
> It was in a room no bigger than 10X10. I sat on the floor. I ate alone. 
> After dinner, I took a long, hot shower. Life was good. 
> This night will remain as one of the most sentimental, special nights of 
> the 
> hike, and my life. 
> 
> That was 8 years ago tonight. 
> 
> -- 
> Felix J. McGillicuddy 
> ME-->GA '98 
> "Your Move" 
> ALT '03 KT '03 
> http://Felixhikes.tripod.com/ 
> 
> 
> 
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