April 30

This morning found us loading up the van at 6:30 for the ride back to Clingman's Dome. Susan, Laura, and Michael assembled early to get Highlander and me back to the peak where we would join up once again with Johnny Walker and continue north toward Maine.

I was tired from a sleepless night and a heavy heart. On Monday evening I made one more visit to the hospital to say goodbye to my Dad before I left. Then I stopped at my parent's apartment to see my Mom. She starts radiation treatments for cancer today. As we drive toward the mountains, I realize I must say goodbye to my wife and daughter. "When will I see you again?" asks Susan. It dawns on me that I really don't have an answer. I'm walking away today without a plan.

Goodbyes were hard under the clear skies at Clingman's Dome. I took one last look before plunging into the woodland. I wanted to capture the warmth of my daughter's smile, the comfortable affection and love that she and Michael share, and most of all the depth and tenderness in my my bride's eyes as we parted. It was a quiet walk for a time as I processed it all.

The day was perfect and the trail was beautiful as we walked the 10+ miles to our shelter. Much of the trail today had a mystical feeling to it. Deep shadows and damp mossy covered rocks and trees made the path seem like a fairy tale land. The damp ground and heavy pine forest soaked up all the sounds, which only added to the mystery of the place.

One lesson learned today was to always watch where you put down your pack. I had flung mine down during a break while I sat down to rest on a fallen log. When I hefted it back onto my back it carried with it a swarm of biting ants that quickly began to attack my back and pants. All I can say beyond that is there was some real dancing on the trail!

By early afternoon it became clear that something was not right. Johnny has been having trouble with his leg while hiking downhill. Today, in spite of rest and medication, the leg was much worse, with additional pain moving through his back. By the time we reached Newfound Gap the choice had been arrived at. Johnny was going to leave the trail.

Once again it was time for a hard goodbye. Johnny was a part of our team, our identity. For the past weeks he has set the pace and provided the wit and humor to keep the days moving. It was hard for us to watch him go, but I know it was hardest for Johnny. He is a person who drives himself and seeks the best. Whatever happens, I know that Johnny will be hiking again.

On Saturday, in pouring rain and a trail that was a flowing stream of water, I climbed to the highest point on the entire trail. It is Clingman's Dome, located in the center of the Great Smoky Mountain National Park. I walked in the raincloud at close to 6,500 feet above sea level and could see little but the path before me. I wished we could have had at least some view to justify the hard work of getting up there.

The real payment came a short time later as I rounded the pathway and walked into the public parking area set up for tourists. There sat a familiar van, containing my wife, daughter, a bag of fresh oranges, and a pile of dry towels. What a welcome!!!!

Today (Sunday) I have spent the day getting needed supplies, checking in with my trail mentor, Wildcat, and getting dried out. I head back out with Highlander and Johnny Walker at 6:30 in the morning.

The is a deeper and more difficult side of this quick visit home. I arrived here to find my father in the hospital. He has had a heart attack and is in congestive heart failure. At 94 he has some other issues that add to the situation. It has been really difficult knowing what to do. He has shown improvement today. He is also very proud and excited about my Blazing New Trails project. I am going to continue the journey, trusting myself, my family, and my dad to God's care.

Thanks for all the encouraging support. There are so many people I would have loved to see and talked to today, but I just needed to focus on my dad.

I'll do my best to stay in touch.

April 27

I am huddled in the bottom of my sleeping bag in a shelter filled with hikers doing the same. The wind is howling around us, making it foolish just to expose your face to the cold. The rain is coming down in sheets and there is no visibility. At an altitude of over 5,000 feet, we are in the clouds. No dinner will be eaten tonight, and no tents set up. If anyone else should arrive we will find space for one more.

We started this morning knowing that the weather was worsening. Our goal was to get to Clingman's Done and try to get up with Susan. Our backup plan was to get one more shelter closer than this and meet her in the morning as arranged. By the time we arrived at the Silar Bald Shelter, however, the storm was raging at full intensity. We were wet and chilling and unable to go farther. Worse still, we have been unable to contact Susan for several days and don't know for certain about her plans.

Right now the plan is to leave here at six in the morning. We are about six miles from the Dome and the trail is a river. We will try continually to contact Susan as we hike, hoping for a signal.

Until then, I'm in my bag along with those around me. The only sounds are the wind and pounding rain, with an occasional cough or shiver from someone around me.

Goodnight Moon, and goodnight Lilly Goosefarmer wherever you are.