Appalachian Trail, Part 1

A few days after I bought the camper and we headed to Minnesota to begin our journey to outrun my husband Jim’s Alzheimer’s, I received a phone call from my brother-in-law’s cousin Dee Ann. I heard words I had never expected to hear. “I remember you and Jim coming over to our house when I was a teenager. You guys had just come back from a big backpacking trip and you made an impression on me. You two were wearing real hiking boots and clothing that were well worn, and you sat there and didn’t say a word until someone asked about your trip.” “Dee Ann, I didn’t have any self-esteem in those days. That’s why I was quiet. I was a timid mouse! I can’t believe you remember that.” “I want you guys to come to East Tennessee and we can hike on the Appalachian Trail. I live near there. I know a campground down here so you can park the camper and we’ll do some day-hiking.” My head was spinning. One of my dreams was being offered on a silver platter–hiking the Appalachian Trail. There was no way I was going to say no to this opportunity. “I’m not that same timid thing. And I’m really out of shape.” “Eh, I have a bad knee, so I take it easy. I usually hike 3-5 miles, so you’ll be okay.” The conversation went on and at some point, I stupidly said I prefer to hike through, instead of in and out. And Dee Ann heard that. The next thing I knew, Dee Ann planned a 10-mile trip up some amazing mountains called Hump and Little Hump and recommended a beautiful campground on the Watauga River. I have to admit I wasn’t terrified of anything we had done so far on our journey until this. I had no fear Jim could do it. He is in great physical shape and when he isn’t hiking or bike riding, he is doing sit-ups and push-ups on the living room floor. So I started doing short 2-3 mile hikes with a day pack full of water and tried to push myself without stopping on the ups and downs until I got to the end of the trail, but I knew it wasn’t going to be enough. While I didn’t want Dee Ann to be in pain, I kept hoping that knee of hers was going to put us on a more equal playing field. Ha! Delusional? Yes, I was. So we loaded up the camper and we headed to Elizabethton, TN. A side trip through Nashville to visit my dad’s only living sibling could have us arriving in the mountains after dark, but it needed to be done early in the trip because the weather was going to be below freezing upon our return. I keep promising myself I will not pull that camper or set up in the dark again, but Jim and I don’t seem to do anything quickly anymore, and stopping for food has morphed into an hour of leisurely eating because time is of no consequence when dealing with dementia. That, and the time switched to Eastern and we lost an hour. With every hill we drove up, I gasped and said, “how beautiful”. Each ridge brought more mountains with their amazing coverings of reds, greens, oranges, and yellows into view. Even though it had been a dry summer and the colors were not as vibrant as they could be, it was spectacular. Things were going smoothly and I texted Dee Ann to let her know when we would arrive at the campground. She would be waiting there with chili and cornbread casserole her husband made us. As hungry as I was, I was also excited there would be waning daylight to set up in. I told her we were turning onto Blue Springs Road one minute and lost all service the next. Then I took a wrong turn and spent 20 minutes turning the camper around on a one-lane road on a hill. After righting ourselves, I realized the wonky GPS never recognized Watauga Dam Campground https://camprrm.com/parks/watauga-dam-campground/. It was obviously taking us up another mountain to one of the several Watauga Dams run by TVA instead of down to the river. I had to turn the camper around again at a gated road while the obnoxious voice on the navigation system kept saying “You have arrived. You have arrived.” I cursed the voice, but she didn’t change her mind. As soon as I had made the U-turn, a truck pulled up beside us in the dark. Without considering if it contained murderers or not, I got out and went to it to ask directions. These angels out of nowhere were the husband and wife team of Phil and Betty, who managed the campground! They were locking gates to the dams at nightfall and appeared just as we needed them like they were supposed to be our guides. They were the kindest people and we followed them to the campground. They even changed the difficult-to-maneuver site I had reserved, to another site that could easily be pulled through. It was maybe ten feet from the swiftly flowing Watauga River. A few minutes later, Dee Ann arrived and entertained herself watching my expertise at unhooking, leveling, and connecting the camper to utilities. She and Jim took turns holding flashlights for me and I believe she and the husband part of the host team may have attempted kicking a stuck tow bar and held a level. If she didn’t, I do know she was heavy on giving directions on how to unhitch it. But I will never dis the hand which feeds me–the chili and cornbread casserole were delicious and we made plans to meet at a local fast food joint to begin my first and Jim’s second trek on the Appalachian Trail. Then she told me to keep all food in the camper or car and keep them locked, to deter bears. You mean they can open car and camper doors? I never sleep well the first night in the camper and I never sleep well the night before an epic hike, so I averaged four hours of sleep between worrying just how much I would be wheezing and embarrassing myself the next day and the excitement of hiking along the historic trail. Oh, and not knowing what the trail was really like, I envisioned hiking through wooded areas where someone would be lurking like in Deliverance. After all, I recalled news reports about someone who lived along the trail and murdered hikers a few short decades ago . . .