(Birch Spring Tentsite (mile 172.3)) - Spence Field Shelter (mile 183.7))

This morning I broke camp pretty early and was hiking by about 8:20am. The rain had not lasted long into the night, but the morning was cold and a light fog hung in the air. My goal for the day was to make it about 11.4 Miles to Spence Field Shelter. After climbing a ridge for about 30min, I found a good spot to eat breakfast and stretch. While I was eating, fog descended heavily on the ridge, creating a mystical atmosphere. As visibility deteriorated in the heavy fog, it quickly became apparent how the Smokies earned their name.

Soon the trail merged with the North Carolina/Tennessee border and I briefly amused myself my hopping from one state to another as I walked. After another 3 miles I passed Mollie's Ridge Shelter which emerged from the fog in a faintly ominous manner. This was my first time witnessing a shelter in the Smokies and I was immediately struck by its stone construction and fireplace. It was still early in the day though, and I did not linger long before hiking on.

After hiking another 3 miles, I reached Russell Field Shelter where I planned to stop for lunch. The sun emerged for the first time while I was eating. The warmth chased the fog away and quickly became a rather lovely afternoon. As I soaked in the sun, an older day hiker informed me that the weather tonight and tomorrow was forecasted to be pretty rough. It sounded like thunderstorms and wind gusts all day. Exciting😬

I made it to Spence Field just after 3pm. Delta, Tracy, Cloudkicker, Justin, and Tunes were already at the shelter. The weather was still lovely, but I set up my tent in a grove of Mountain Laurel in anticipation of things getting nasty. After setting up my tent, I joined the other thru-hikers around the fire pit and we chatted the afternoon away. I met a few new hikers including "Dr. Cheese" (a physical therapy Ph.D. from Atlanta), "Dirty Pasta" (who earned her trail name after spilling her dinner early in the hike), and "Calypso." Later in the afternoon Steve, who I met yesterday at the lodge, arrived with "Cranberry," a professional cellist from New Zealand.

We all ate dinner around the fire pit. At one point, almost everyone was running their backpacking stoves and the cumulative roar was approximately as loud as a jet engine. I ate my ramen and then Dirty Pasta offered me her leftover Mountain House meal, which was rather tasty. After dinner, Tunes busted out the Ukelele and we all joined in to sing "Chicken Fried" by the Zac Brown Band while steve accompanied by playing drums with cook pots and mugs.

The evening slowly wound down and I retired to my tent silently hoping that I would not be blown away in the night.

Deep in the Smokies
heavy fog rests on the ridge
enveloping all