Resupplied, updated my blog, ate some real food. Restful day. Never did go to the actual Hot Springs. Reportedly they pipe the hot springs into hot tubs and you can sit in them for $25.00 a person. The thing that stopped us from going was they were located about two miles from the Laughing Heart Hostel and Lodge where we were staying. We just weren’t willing to walk that far.

There were a lot of hikers I hadn’t seen in a while at the hostel. We caught up on each other’s progress. I saw a few people I thought had quit by now that hadn’t. They say that statistically nearly 50% of thru hikers will have quit by Hot Springs, so far most of the people that started around the same time I did are still out here. We talked about the trail, how steep some sections were, how steeply other sections descend. There’s a certain kinship that comes from shared suffering, it bonds you together in a certain way. Everybody is kind to each other out there. It renews one’s faith in humanity. Not only are the hikers kind, the people living along the trail are extremely kind to us too. Trail magic is commonplace, I don’t even know how many times a day hiker or trail angel has offered me a banana, or soft drink, or offered to take my trash from my pack, as we passed on the trail. It inspires you to be a better person, in a world where such simple acts of kindness seem to be increasingly less commonplace. The trail is an extraordinary footpath, it’s a great privilege to walk it.

I was hiking with a young acquaintance of mine named Dundee a couple days ago. The weather was wet, windy, and cool, the temperatures were in the low forties. We came upon a guy probably in his thirties, hiking towards us from the north. As he came closer I could see he was wearing blue jeans and a cotton shirt, he had on a very light windbreaker and nothing else. He didn’t have a pack or any other gear, only a nearly empty water bottle. We knew he was many miles from a road in the direction he was headed. It had started to rain lightly again, the forecast was calling for heavy rain within the next hour. It was the perfect recipe for hypothermia. Exposure kills more hikers than any other causes combined. It’s estimated that three to five hikers a year perish of hypothermia on the AT. Most of them are not thru hikers, we are constantly aware of the danger. We go to great lengths to make sure we have one set of warm dry clothes to get into once we reach a shelter or pitch our tents. We go to great lengths to keep our sleeping bags and puffy jackets dry. Until summer brings warm temperatures, exposure and hypothermia are to be consciously avoided.

I walked up to the guy and asked, “what the hell are you doing up here?” “Don’t you know it’s dangerous to be up here if you’re not prepared?” “Those blue jeans and that cotton shirt are a recipe for hypothermia if it starts raining like it’s supposed too, you could die up here.” Dundee just ignored me and said, “hey man, are you doing okay? Is your mind working good and everything? You’re shaking a lot, are you cold?” The guy said, “yeah, I’m a little cold, I’m not sure where I am, I think I missed my turn.” Dundee asked him where he came from and we looked on our gps to figure out how he went wrong. Turns out he hiked up 2.9 miles from a camp ground and headed north on the AT about 2 miles. He had hiked about 5 miles by then so he decided to head back. Apparently he missed the turn back to the campground where he was parked and ended up hiking about 4 miles south, up and down some really steep and rocky terrain. So by then he had hiked about 9 miles. He still had about 4.9 miles to go to get back to his car. Dundee told him he could hike with us until we came to the turn off that led to the campground. After that he would have to hike the remaining 2.9 miles to his car. Dundee told him that even if he started feeling warm to keep his jacket on. He told him that if the rain started to just keep walking till he made it to the car, even if it was pouring, then get in the car and get the heater going.

I led and Dundee followed behind. We made it to the turnoff in about an hour, bringing his total mileage up to about 11. He still had 2.9 to hike to get to the campground parking lot, a long hike even for someone used to doing it. It was drizzling but the rain in the forecast never came as predicted. Dundee asked, “you sure you’re alright to get back to the campground?” The guy said he was. Dundee gave him all the water in his water bottle, to refill his empty one. The guy asked, “are you sure you should give me your water?, I mean I’ll for sure drink it if you do give it to me, but I don’t want to take your water.” Dundee said, “There’s a water source right up ahead, I’ll just refill there. There’s lots of water on the trail.” I knew that we wouldn’t hit another water source for 4 or 5 miles, Dundee knew it too.

We walked in silence for a while after we sent the guy on his way. I finally said, “Dundee you’re a 25 year old kid and you just taught me, a 59 year old man, a better way to talk to people.” Dundee just kind of shrugged his shoulders and smiled sheepishly. “Well Juanito, I figured he was already in a bad situation, no sense we go scaring the hell out of him too.” I vowed to do better.