Day 8, 6-22

This was an interesting day of firsts for Caleb and I. We set out that morning with the realization that we needed to get a ride into Hiawassee at Dick's Creek Gap, and we had never needed to hitchhike before. We needed to send some mail, get some food, and then get back to the trail, and this would be after getting to the town.
So we set out, we hit the road, and then we look around. There are a few cars in the lot across the street (highway, but it was inglorious enough to be called street), so we walk across (besides, we needed to be on that side anyway, because we needed to go that direction to town. As we get there, there's a guy and his wife descending the mountain. We talked with them for a while, and I don't know if Caleb had thought this, but I certainly had them giving us a ride in mind. So we talk, and we drop hints about how nice it would be to get into town without having to hitchhike, and before we know it, we're smelling up an SUV and on our way to Hiawassee. Which worked out nicely. Turns out that the guy does Geocaching, which is...I don't know. It seems, frankly, ridiculous. A game that was created for people to play with their GPS systems. Anyway, I wasn't complaining, they gave us a ride. So we swing into an Ingles Parking Lot, and they're off quickly. I don't think she really wanted to give us a ride in the first place...she was not as voluble as he, and was for dropping us off about 3 miles from town. That's the worst place to be...in town, you're just heading back to the trail. At the trail, you're heading to town. In between...you could be sketchy, and your pick-up-likelihood drops. But we hoped and prayed desperately, and an Ingles appeared! We swung in, picked up the few things we needed, and then two small things of Ben and Jerry's 'Cherry Garcia'. Tasty. Nowhere near my fav, but tasty. And thus began our infatuation with the lovely Mr Ben and Mr Jerry. Swung by the PO to drop some mail off, swung by a general store for bandannas, and we were off again. Once more with Frood Fellow status. Someone please tell me you get that reference...
Only to confront actual factual hitching. I'll do a separate post on the trials and tribulations of hitchhiking. It's an experience, I'll say that much...anyway, an old guy in a truck gave us a ride, and we bombed out, Caleb in the bed, I in the cab talking with the guy. Good vibe, so we were cool with it. Dropped us off, and once more we were in the woods. It felt really good. So we started putting some distance between us and the road, and that was very nice.
Then another first for us. NC! We crossed a state line! We were totally pumped up. That was our goal for the night, we wanted to get there, and camp, even if we were camping on the State line, we wanted to make it over. And we did! There was a campsite there, not the most forgiving for hammocks, but good enough, and we set up alright. Then I made the first Oops blunder of the trip. Oops is my trail name, and for various reasons, but so far, on this trip, I had been doing well. We had even toyed with switching my name to 'little bit', cause I kept saying that. Then this happened.
Caleb and I cook with a tiny little denatured alcohol stove. Best thing ever. It boils H2O, and that's all you need. So we carry our denatured alcohol in a 500 mL Nalgene bottle. I'm looking for places to toss the bear line, and find a splendid branch. Way up on this tree that doesn't have any branches close to the anything, until this one, about 20 feet off the ground. Super great. I take Caleb's parachuter cord and flake it out (unravel it on the ground so when I toss it, it flows well, and not in a snarl. The term is from climbing, and you always do this, because you don't want to be in a knotted-rope situation if there's someone on the other end who needs to be held immediately. So you start and one end and play the rope out onto the ground until you get to the other.). So it's flaked out, and I need something to throw. So I grab the Nalgene with the denatured alcohol in it. Tie it on. Lean back, heave it up. Great throw, right over the branch. Just as it's clearing the branch, I grab the rope. All the forward momentum gets transferred to continuing the arc, and the bottle gracefully loops over the branch again. And there's what we should be using shortly to cook our dinner, hanging 20 long feet above the ground. Drat. I shake the line. Nothing happens. I shake it harder. Nothing happens. I call Caleb over. He looks at me with a combo of anger and amusement. 'You get to keep Oops'. 'I know buddy. I know.' So we shake and plan. Eventually, we decided to throw a rock over the branch, which would help uncoil the rope enough to let the bottle down. So that's what we did. But Caleb made me practice first. And I did. And it worked...and dinner was tasty. And I never grabbed the line again, until the weight hit the ground. And it was always a rock. Never our fuel, never again.
New Bandannas!













We're awesome. We have new bandannas. What then?












Awesome flower. Magnolia?













A great shot of something or other.













NC/GA! One state down, a lot more to go!