AT/GA: Amicalola Falls to Springer Mountain

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Day One, nine miles

Billie and I get a late start.

It’s not just the fact that she’s an actress and stays up til the wee hours.

It’s that we enjoy each other and talk non-stop and have just one more thing to show the other.

And have to paint my nails a shocking turquoise to match my hiking shirt.

It’s 10:30 before we leave and we still have to pick up gas for my wee camp stove at the Sandy Springs REI.

Still, we make good time as freeways give way to byways on rolling countryside and red dirt. The sky is gray and I wonder if rain’s coming.

Amicalola means tumbling waters and the state park boasts a lovely visitor center where I snag my AT tag and we check out some beautiful snakes in terrariums, all fast asleep, their scaly and bulging bodies pressed against the glass.

We decide to walk up the steep trail to the falls together, Billie hoping my full pack will slow me down. Black throated green warblers trill loudly as I walk back to the car to prepare. I put the gas inside and close up my pack making my final inspection before starting.

That’s when a backpacker shuffles over. He’s a man of a certain age, trimmed gray beard and fancy gators.

Doin’ it all?

Maybe.

I just walked a loop of the Benton Makaye and AT!

He pronounces the name of the man who came up with the idea for the trail saying ‘Kay.’ I mention i’m pretty sure it’s ‘Kie’ but it doesn’t slow down his banter.

You see I couldn’t finish the trail. I walked 1600 miles before my foot swelled up and I needed antibiotics for a month! You gotta take care of your feet!

I’ll do that, I promise as I triple check the car to ensure I didn’t leave something behind.

You’re carrying an awful lot of weight, he tells me, unbidden.

I’m not even out of the parking lot and I get caught by s mansplaining gear-nazi. Where’s Bill Bryson when you need him?

I thought you said you couldn’t finish the trail?

And off we go.

Spring is in its earliest stages. Leaves are out, but so are the azaleas in bright orange and pale pink. Our trail is dry but lined with deep purple violets and spring beauties.

It’s steep but not far to the base of the falls, where a bridge leads out directly below Georgia’s largest. We linger for pictures and ooh and aah at this marvel before ascending 425 steps to the top.

My pack slows me some, but Billie keeps up and is proud to do it without a stop. We get another picture near the sign that tells us not to climb over the railing…

Then head to the famous hotel for a final view. If you saw Robert Redford in “A Walk in the Woods,” you’ll remember this spot high up on a ledge surveying Georgia’s mountains.

We can’t stay long, because I really should start. Just as we hug goodbye, it begins to rain, not hard, but enough to remind me who’s boss.

I mention my slight apprehension and Billie is surprised since I’m such a seasoned hiker. I explain it’s less fear and more, did I make the right choice. I think it’s pretty normal to feel this way, and wonder if I brought all the right gear.

Yesterday, as Billie and I walked around Ponce we stumbled into a bookstore. One book was called simply, “Be Happy.” It was filled with drawings and thoughts on how to be happy like, ‘stop being a victim” and “spend more time with people you like.”

It also suggested, “any decision is better than indecision.”

I decided to give this bit of the AT a try for a month, mostly because I’m curious. If I hate it, I can leave. But now that I’m here, let’s check it out!

I reach water quickly, crossing a stream with deep pools and rhododendrons ready to pop. The trail undulates from here, never very steep and lined with iris and trillium.

Near the camping area, I run into a friend I made in Arizona. She’s finished hiking for the day and needs to tend to her dog, so we chat briefly and ask a passerby to take our picture.

She has met all the backpackers heading out, like Benjamin who speaks with a drawl, smokes and calls himself a ‘cracker.’ Also a man she met who had his pack and $1000 in cash stolen when he left it at the trail to go down a spur for water.

I’m shocked and saddened. Who would do such a thing? I vow not to leave my pack unattended.

As soon as we say goodbye, it begins to rain more heavily. No thunder, just a good soaker. I’m glad I took lots of pictures already and I plod on through flowers and soft green, the air smelling delicious.

A few hikers pass but we just say hello and keep moving. Mostly I ridge walk with some ups and downs, the mountains hazy in the distance. There are many campsites, but also a dirt road and I don’t want to camp near it.

I don’t want to set in the rain and ask the rain gods to turn things down as the day winds down.

And it does!

The rain lets up and the wind picks up. A blackburnian warbler sings his buzzy tune as I pass a shelter and camping. A smoker stands by his tent and I introduce myself. Benjamin! He does have a soft drawl telling me he’s happy the rain is finished.

I press on another mile or so to Springer Mountain, where the AT actually begins. It’s lovely on top, grass and rock and gnarled trees. The view is blue mountain after blue mountain, mist hanging over the valleys. The famous metal signs affixed to stone welcome me to the start.

Mile 0.

A sign cordially asks us not to camp here so it stays nice, and I head down a few more minutes to another shelter with ample camping. Towhees tweet as welcome as I set and begin dinner. It’s damp and low 50s, but the wind feels drying as the sky turns a deep pink.

I packed my small bear canister this time and it makes life easier to simply lock it and stash it away from my tent. winter wren sings its complex tune as I head past the shelter to a stream. At first the banks look green, but closer inspection reveals a carpet of trout lilies, their yellow bells demurely faced down.

Ridge Runner Chelsea arrives. Her job is to educate us hikers on good etiquette and Leave No Trace. She is bubbly and I like her right away. When I tell her all the flowers I saw today, she responds, “Today had everything!”

Indeed it did as I crawl in to a caterwauling Barred Owl and wind in the trees. Even the moon and stars come out.