my trip was totally humiliating ..I was so f'd up on the summit my wife had ask a nice couple to drive us back to pinkham..
Hiked on the AT from Spinger Mountain Ga to outside of Roanoke Va. for a couple months in the spring of ’77. Met some folks who hiked up to the trail from Rome Ga. & had brought bottles of bourbon and had cases of beer chilling in spring water near where we set up camp. Nobody made it too far the next day but sitting around the campfire was fun and still remembered.
I pissed all over my face once. I was hiking up Snowdon in Whales and was high up on a ridge when I had to go. I was by myself and no one was around so I stopped for a quick one. Sure enough a gust of wind came along for a big surprise. It was shockingly funny and pouring rain so I hysterically laughed it off. It was a good mood lifter as I had been anxious the whole hike until then. I had a late start and being solo made me nervous in a foreign land. Turns out that was the fun part. I summited in thick fog and started down the other side. I lost the cairns that marked the trail so I started going cross country to find a trail that the map showed downhill. Shit started getting steep and it was slow going. I started hearing some sheep so I headed their way figuring they were on good ground. Instead of hiking I was now down climbing cliffs. I could hear the flock in the distance growing closer as I inched my way down. I finally found the loudest one. It was cliffed out and stuck like me. I hung out with my new friend for a little bit but didn’t chat for long as it was now getting dark. Started downclimbing using the bellwether as my guide. Found the flock and the trail just as I dropped below the fog. Booked it miles to the nearest road in the dark. I was so happy to find that road and was content with walking through the night if necessary. Luckily a lone car came along and I hitched it back to town which was many miles away. Made it to a pub for one of the best pints I’ve ever had.
