Snakes and Spiders and Stairs, Oh My: A Foothills Trail Journey
This is the story of the least fun thru-hike I've ever done. We all know how my most recent thru-hike attempt ended: a heartbreaking stress fracture in my femoral neck. After 6 weeks of keeping weight off my left leg altogether followed by several months of regaining muscle and mobility through progressively longer walks and hikes, I gave backpacking another go. Nothing can properly convey the frustration of going from badass thru-hiker to immobile dependent to limited athlete, but I can say that I am grateful beyond relief to be out of those months. The Foothills Trail was selected to serve as a rehab hike of sorts. At 76.2 miles, I figured the journey would be long enough to push the limits of what I've been doing recently but not so long that I was pushed too far. So without further ado: the Foothills Trail.
Day 1: September 20th, 2024
Miles done today: 6.5
Total miles completed: 6.5
Today, I started the Foothills Trail, a 76.2-mile National Scenic Trail located in South Carolina. It's not the thru-hike I envisioned for 2024 -- it's not even the consolation thru-hike I envisioned for 2024, which was the 277-mile Long Trail in Vermont -- but given the circumstances of my injury recovery, it seems that baby steps are the necessary precaution to ensure a Continental Divide Trail thru-hike attempt next spring. Even so, I struggle to picture jumping from 76 miles being my longest hike in one year to several thousand, although I guess that's how it worked for me before the Appalachian Trail. But that one went more smoothly for me...
Anyway, I spent most of today driving from Cincinnati to Oconee State Park near Walhalla, South Carolina. Much of the drive was uneventful, but I did get an encouraging text from my mom somewhere in Tennessee that the 24 hour stomach bug she got yesterday seems to have been passed to my dad, so fingers crossed I don't have to deal with any unfortunate illness while I'm out here.
In an ideal situation, I would have parked at the trailhead at Table Rock State Park, shuttled to my starting point at Oconee State Park, and began hiking back to my car. I just didn't have time to do that. I drove to the nearer trailhead and barely made it to the park office before it closed. I'll deal with the logistics of getting back to my car later.
By the time I was able to start hiking, it was almost 5:15pm. Since the sunset was around 7:30, I wanted to get a few miles in before dark. My goal was 4 to a noted campsite, but I accidentally hiked past it, and by the time I realized my mistake, I figured the best course of action was to move on to the next campsite and race the sunset. Classic Wrong Way... But in my defense, the sign post was missing, and the site was slightly off-trail. I also must have been going about half a mile per hour faster than I'd expected to, and the GPS on FarOut was being wonky and not showing my accurate location, so I did my best.
The comments on this campsite in the guide app say that the spot I ended up at had 2 small spots for tents, and I just hoped that I'd have room. Fortunately, only one tent was set up here, belonging to an older couple from Alabama. I made it to camp around sunset and was able to pitch my tent in the last few moments of light. It's not my best pitch (cut me some slack, I haven't pitched it since May 7th), but it is up, and I am in it, and I can sleep. I'm honestly glad there's someone else here; even though we only chatted briefly when I arrived (I only wanted to announce my presence and verify some sort of kindness in their voice, but they were very interested in conversation), I dislike camping totally alone. I already figure the next few days will be spent largely in solitude, so if I can have buddies at camp, I will feel better.
It feels good to be back in the foothills of these familiar mountains, surrounded by rhododendron and thick clusters of trees (even if they obstruct the views. I know they're there!). Christ, though, this humidity is insane. Even though there's much more oxygen available to inhale than I'm used to out in the mountains of Colorado, it feels heavy and wet, and my skin is constantly soaked. It's been an hour since I've stopped hiking, and my back is still damp. Did I really do this for months?? How was I not absolutely covered in acne, and how did I not literally drown?
Day 2: September 21st, 2024
Miles done today: 15.9
Total miles completed: 22.4
I slept poorly last night, as I normally do the first night in my tent. It didn't help that my tent site was slightly sloped, and the Alabama couple was chatting up a storm while they packed up at 6:00 this morning. I dragged myself out of camp around 7:15, sure that the past several hours of rest amounted to no more than a couple hours of actual sleep. My favorite part of the getting ready process was putting on my damp bra, shirt, and shorts; again, I cannot believe this was my normal life for several months in 2021.
(I actually learned after the hike that this trail is considered a temperate rainforest, so the ungodly humidity was far worse than what I experienced on the Appalachian Trail.)
Most of this morning was spent dodging (unsuccessfully) all the spider webs. I apologize to every spider who lost a meal on my behalf. If it helps, I didn't like it, either.
I spent much of today listening to A Court of Thorns and Roses. Despite being a very trendy read, especially among millennial and gen z women, I haven't been able to get through much of the author's subpar writing, but while I have literally nothing better to do, I figured it was time to give it another shot. In the spirit of the title, I will tell you today's thorn and today's rose.
My thorn: this trail is very well maintained, but nothing can smooth out the rocky and rooty ground. I'm usually pretty careful, but I took a few falls today. One of them wasn't a bad fall, and I stayed on my feet, but I managed to drag my flailing arm across the only thorny plant amid a sea of ferns, so I now have a few unnecessary scrapes on my arm. I'm pretty sure the Neosporin was washed away within 20 sweaty minutes. Another fall included me dropping my phone, and while my phone is fine, the headphones seem to have bent beyond usability.
My rose: a trail angel called Taz, who is apparently THE trail angel for the Foothills Trail, left a cooler of ice cold pop for hikers. Even though I only had a few miles of hiking left for the day, and it was mostly downhill, the Fanta was everything I wanted and more.
For the most part, it seems this trail will be fairly uneventful. I've been keeping my mind occupied by trying to observe anything I find that is white. I've also been trying to take breaks every few miles, partially because it seems good for recovery, and also partially because, in the spirit of taking it easy and doing lower mileage, I simply have the time to rest as I please.
I got to camp and found two older women already set up here. At first, I was excited by an all-women campsite, but trying to converse with them was like pulling teeth, so I retreated to my tent early and blamed it on the bugs.
Day 3: September 22nd, 2024
Miles done today: 16.5
Total miles completed: 38.9
My well-intended use of a tree outside my tent as a clothesline resulted in an even wetter shirt and bra, since it drizzled for about an hour starting at 5:00am. A testament to how warm it is, even at its coldest, is how putting them on at 7:00 this morning almost felt pleasant. I don't expect any of my clothing items to dry out at all on this trail. My shorts, which were in my tent, were also still quite damp from sweat.
I planned today to be my longest mileage, but it'll probably be one of the easiest days as far as elevation goes. I started my day with one of two big climbs for the day, and I found myself a quarter of the way done with the day's miles by 9:20. From where I sat at the top of the climb, I could see that there is a lake in the short distance, but you'd never be able to tell in photos due to the density of trees. I took almost an hour-long break because I had some cell service, and also because, at this rate, I'll be done with my miles too early.
Except I wish I'd been done earlier. The miles felt so slow and sluggish. Even though I was moving at a decent pace for being out of practice, I felt frustrated for being so out of breath and so very tired. I swear, I'm sweating a gallon of water every day in this humidity, and I can't keep up the hydration. I also am laughably under-eating, which I assume is an effect of the humidity.
This afternoon, before my lunch break, I encountered a copperhead snake. Except I didn't know that's what it was at the time. I think I'm glad I didn't know, because I definitely went about getting past it the wrong way (not that I had many options... it was right on the trail, and both sides of the trail were big dirt faces, so there wasn't much "around" to choose from). I mean I almost stepped on it, and it could do with a less inconvenient spot than exactly where everyone is walking. It must have just come out for me, because the family of day hikers I encountered didn't seem to have seen it.
So far, this hike is... fine. I can't say I'm particularly enjoying it. The miles have been easygoing enough, for the most part, but I've become spoiled for vistas and grandeur. I also really dislike being so alone. I knew I would be going in, but that doesn't make the loneliness less lonely. I've had to acknowledge to myself that the primary feeling I have on this trail is bored, and I have to get back in the habit of being bored on a trail and not demanding gratification as a reward for being out here. I'm not allowed to quit a 76 mile hike just because I'm not entertained, you know? This has become more mental training than physical recovery, even after just 2.5 days of hiking.
Tonight is my first night camping alone on this trail. Thank god I had cell service so I could call Mitch and feel like I had company. And I can distract myself with some YouTube or something. I very rarely camp alone, and now that it's dark, I find myself jumping at every fallen-leaf-amplified sound outside my tent.
Day 4: September 23rd, 2024
Miles done today: 18.7
Total miles completed: 57.6
I am honestly surprised by how well I slept, given my initial nerves about camping alone.
Today was the first time I was able to hike with someone. The only other person (to my knowledge, anyway) in my vicinity on the trail right now is a 49-year-old man from Asheville named Mack. He outpaces me by a good bit, but he was kind enough to hike my speed for a few miles. He was going to stop at a campsite around noon -- even though he seems very capable of larger miles, he seems to enjoy doing a smaller number and getting to camp in the early afternoon and enjoying the site in solitude -- but I inadvertently convinced him to do the big push uphill before stopping. He probably did 5 or 6 miles more than he meant to today, which isn't a ton, but they were really hard miles! This trail seems to largely forego switchbacks and instead rely on steep staircases nailed into the ground to cover lots of elevation gain/loss in short amounts of time. One of the uphills was 300 stairs long. On the last big uphill of the day, we lost each other, and I think he set up camp a little off trail, so I didn't see where he stopped.
Before getting to my campsite, I was graced with yet another scary and close snake encounter. This rattlesnake was probably like 4 feet long, and it was deeply unhappy that I was in its vicinity. Fortunately, it had the courtesy to warn me of its presence and slowly slither off so I could pass. I'm starting to develop a bit of a phobia of snakes. Well, not all snakes. Just the ones that can kill you if you fail to observe its camouflage.
My intended destination was a campsite 15.9 miles from where I started this morning. I can't explain why, but it just felt off when I got there. Maybe my heartbeat was still a little fast from the snake encounter a half mile before. Maybe it was because I got to camp at 3:30, and since I was alone and with no service this time, I had too much time to think. Either way, after an hour, I decided to move onto another campsite. I'd even pitched my tent, so I knew my mind was made up when I was willing to take it down to move on.
My new site is still service-less, and I'm still alone, but somehow it feels better. Well worth the extra hour of hiking to get here just for the peace of mind. I really can't explain why the other site felt off, but I would have gone crazy staying there.
My big decision for tomorrow: do I take two easy days (12.5 tomorrow, 6.1 Wednesday) or push to the end? It normally would be a very easy decision to just do the 18.7, but one, I'm not sure two 18.7-mile days in a row is smart for my leg (it feels overall fine but definitely a little sore right now), and two, my shuttle back to the other trailhead, where my car is parked, is scheduled for Wednesday at noon. On the other hand, I'm not sure I want to spend so much time tomorrow in a tent, especially since I heard from some boaters today that it's supposed to rain a lot starting tomorrow.
--
It's 3:36 in the morning. I've been awake since a little after 2:00. Part of it is that I'm restless from trying to figure out tomorrow. I'm genuinely awake, like my eyes are simply not heavy. But part of it is I'm not even comfortable enough to lull myself back to sleep. Everything is damp. My quilt, my pillow, my sleeping pad, everything. It's not even raining. It's just so goddamn humid that no part of my body or gear has been dry since I got out of my car on Friday evening.
I keep alternating between which version of tomorrow sounds the best. I've "made up my mind" about both two or three times each. I have a friend in Greenville, SC who has offered to pick me up tomorrow evening if I get to the Table Rock State Park trailhead. The park allegedly closes at 7, which definitely gives me ample time to do the mileage. I want to get away from this damp stickiness as quickly as possible. On the other hand, I have a shuttle set up from Table Rock at noon on Wednesday, and I'm not sure if I can change it to be from Greenville, and if I can't, then the logistics of getting back to Table Rock from Greenville to catch a shuttle to Oconee seems like a bit much. Plus, a 12.5 mile day sounds kinda nice, and the comments say that campsite has service, which would make being shut up in a tent all evening more bearable. Plus, a 12.5 and then a 6.1 sounds better for recovery's sake than two 18.7s in a row. But I think it'll come down to timing more than anything.
--
It's 4:19. It's raining now. Not crazy hard, but enough to make me dread packing up or setting up if it continues like this. I'm finishing this today. Evidently, it comes down to rain more than anything.
Day 5: September 24th, 2024
Miles done today: 18.7
Total miles completed: 76.2
You can tell from the timestamps how little I slept last night. It had nothing to do with fear or nerves or rain and everything to do with how damp all my gear was. I don't like to sleep uncovered, but the stuff doing the covering was moist and made me sweaty. But being uncovered left me too cool. Especially with the vestibules closed for rain cover, it just felt too muggy and damp in my tent to be comfortable. I probably slept for 4 hours or less.
I knew before I started hiking that the morning was going to be tough. Not from sleep deprivation, not from dehydration, but from sheer lack of nourishment. The irony was no matter how I kept trying to force myself to eat, even though I knew I was malnourished, food as a whole sounded so unappealing. So, feeling a little dizzy and sluggish, I set out on my morning.
The dense trees held in all the moisture from the rain, so the first hour of fog gave the illusion that I hadn't quite rubbed all the sleep (or lack thereof) from my eyes. After about an hour, I was able to choke down a granola bar (it took me almost 45 minutes to eat), and if you can believe it, I felt a lot better afterward.
Most of the morning was the climb up Sassafras Mountain, which is the tallest point in South Carolina. It was 4 fairly grueling miles, but my aim was to arrive by noon, and I got there at 11:52. Had a lovely chat with Ed and Doug, two older gentlemen who were doing some sightseeing. After camping by myself, I was just excited for some social engagement, and they were interested in learning about the trail.
From there, it was mostly a downhill hike with a short uphill blip in the middle. Overall, very uneventful, but a few beautiful views; of course, this is the only day I kept my camera in my dry bag, even though it's the only day that had interesting vistas. A Court of Thorns and Roses was just interesting enough to make the miles go by a little faster than they otherwise would have.
I finished a little after 5:00. It would have been before, but in classic Wrong Way fashion, I did make one final wrong turn like 0.6 miles from the end. In fairness, it was a confusingly-marked junction, and I feel justified in having made the mistake.
My friend Emily picked me up to go to her house in Greenville. I'm glad I finished when I did, because the first of many storms rolled through about half an hour before she was able to get me, and I was so grateful to not have to camp in that kind of weather.
I'm sure you've heard all about the destruction of Hurricane Helene in the South. The trail is currently closed due to storm damage. I'm not sure the state of the Foothills Trail, but I have seen loads of pictures and videos regarding the southern section of the Appalachian Trail. 865 miles of that trail -- over a third of the overall mileage -- are closed to hikers. Several of the trail towns and on-trail hostels that hold precious space in my heart are damaged beyond immediate repair. Towns like Hot Springs, Damascus, and Erwin are underwater. I would be remiss to not post ways to help, and if you want to make this hiker happy at all, let me know which organization you donated to.
Anyway, I'm glad to be done with the Foothills Trail. As I said before, it was a mental exercise as much as a physical one, and I'm glad I was able to prove to myself that I'm stronger than boredom, solitude, and soul-crushing humidity. And a recovering stress fracture. Can't forget about that.
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