(Tricorner Knob Shelter (mile 223.4) - Davenport Gap Shelter (mile 238))

The storm continued through the night and into the morning. Heavy rain pounded on the roof of the shelter as I woke. Yahel advised me to wait a couple hours and let some of the storm pass before hiking. I heeded her advice and took extra time to eat breakfast and chat with the other hikers.

By 9:45am, I decided it was time to get moving. Yahel’s weather updates warned of 50mph wind gusts and a strong chance of hail. Oh well… I figured it was all part of the experience😁

Whenever it rains a lot, the trail becomes a gutter for rainwater, which more or less turns it into a small river. Despite my wet feet, the hiking was great and the forest smelled like a pine and fir scented candle from Bath and Body Works. The colors of the forest were vivid and I was particularly struck by the moss, which almost seemed to glow a pleasant, well-hydrated green.

The morning was brisk, but I maintained a comfortable body temperature as long as I kept moving. The rain eased up and after a half hour or so of hiking, I was surprised to notice the clouds start to lift from the ridge. I was even treated to a handful of decent views.

My plan for the day was to make it 14.6 miles to Davenport Gap Shelter, which sits at the northern boundary of the Smokies. The most notable landmark for the day was the Mt Cammerer lookout tower, an octagon-shaped lookout built by the CCC in the 1930s. On a clear day, the views are apparently spectacular, and Guthook describes it as “one of the most worthwhile side trips on the AT.” Unfortunately, the tower was accessed via a 0.6 mile side trail and despite the brief reprieve from rain, ominous clouds still hung low in the sky. Yahel had also warned me that the side was very exposed and could potentially be dangerous in bad weather. Mt Cammerer was a little over 10 miles from Tricorner Knob, so I decided that I would play it by ear. If the weather seemed clear, I would make the side trip, if the rain and clouds worsened, I would skip the 1.2 mile detour.

I stopped for lunch at a junction with the Camel Gap Trail. As I sat on the ground trying to munch my lunch while elevating my legs, the rain started again.

Sure enough, the rain kept up into the afternoon and I found myself standing in rain and fog at the side trail for Mt Cammerer. Heavy clouds hung low in the sky and I knew there would be no views from the lookout. I was disappointed, but I knew that 2,000 miles of spectacular views lay ahead of me. Sometimes the weather permits, sometimes not.

With 4.1 miles to the shelter, I began the gradual descent from the ridge. The rain had reduced the trail to a clay mud slip-n-slide, making the steep trail even more treacherous.

Throughout the day, I sent Anna Claire WhatsApp voice memos with detailed recalls of my food intake so that she could determine if I was getting enough calories or facing any nutrient deficiencies. Basically, she plugs all my food items into a dietetics tool called Nutricalc and it estimates my macro- and micronutrient intake. She can then figure out if I am getting too little or too much of something. I wouldn’t be surprised if she tells me I’m consuming too much sodium. I eat A LOT of sodium out here😅

As I approached the shelter, the rain began to ease. I found the shelter empty which wasn’t entirely surprising. Standing Bear Farm, an iconic trail-side hostel/resupply, was only another 3.5 miles away, so I figured most folks who make it this far probably continue on to Standing Bear. I figured I would have the shelter to myself, so I set up my stuff and prepared my dinner to soak. Apparently, there must be a history of problem bears in the area because the shelter had chain link fencing and a locking gate installed over the opening.

In the late afternoon, a gruff looking middle-aged hiker approached the shelter. He introduced himself as “Grok,” which he later explained was a reference to the Robert Heinlein novel Stranger in a Strange Land. Really great book. Grok explained that he was originally from Jupiter, Florida. He lost his job in the 2008 recession and his marriage fell apart. With his life turned upside down, he started thru-hiking and hasn’t really stopped since. He has hiked almost every thru-hike I’ve ever heard of, working odd jobs in between. He asked if I could spare any food and I gave him a ramen packet and we chatted over our respective dinners as the sun set behind the ridge.