Well, a couple people told me to restrain myself less with my posts. I tend to err on the side of being polite (my parents are to blame for that), but I will try to tell it like it is more often.

A couple of weeks or so ago, a southern man told me a couple of stories. It took the first two stories for me to become fluent in the dialect. The third story went something like: “When I was little, we went to church all the time. I didn’t care for it much, but they had a room in the basement where you could go and recite a bible verse for candy, so I would go down and get as much as my pockets would carry. The woman who taught down there, we called her Grapefruit. That’s because she was four feet tall and three feet wide.” So I learned what a grapefruit was.

I have been learning all kinds of things on my hike. As they tell you, these are things you just can’t learn in school. For instance, as I was considering how polite to be in my blog posts, some other hikers were discussing anal plugs. Apparently, bears will eat their fur and other usually inedible objects to form such a plug during hibernation. This got me a little worried, since I have eaten about a pound of cheese in the last 24 hours.

The day went pretty well, though I was surprised to see so few people hiking again. Yesterday and today, I mostly hiked alone, which is fairly rare for me. After a while, I thought I saw Wildflower Willie, looking at the ground. As I approached, I asked if he was looking at wildflowers. “Something like that,” he said with a sneer, and as he looked toward me, I saw that it was not Wildflower Willie at all, but Carl the Confronter! A similar cap and white beard, yet the youthful glint in Willie’s eye was replaced by a reproachful glare. Carl is a ridge runner along the Smokies, enforcing anything in his path. I tightened my grip on my trekking poles in case he decided to strike.
“Did you deposit your hiker permit in the box on the way in?” Carl asked.
The urge to blurt “No!” and sprint past was unbearable, but I stood my ground. At last, I managed a “Yes.”
Carl jotted something on his goofy waterproof notebook and told me the shelter was about 100 feet ahead, which I could clearly see for myself.
I hung out at the shelter briefly, but when Carl was muttering something into his radio, I stole away into the late afternoon.

I jumped two more shelters, and I met up with Hooch along the way. We had met early on, so it was refreshing to see a familiar face among the crowds of weekenders and hikers I don’t yet know. I met a couple of new hikers too, and we chatted a bit.

Upon arriving at the shelter – fairly late, due mostly to my late start – I discovered a few hikers who had already dined and were hastily headed toward the Sandman. It sounded like a good idea, so I had a quick dinner and got ready for bed.

Overall, I did 11 miles today. Not bad, but I hope I am only getting stronger again. I found evidence of old friends in the logbook at the shelter, and it made me want to catch up to them. Hopefully, I will see them soon, but I hope to enjoy myself and new friends until then.