The stream that killed the dream

Back early to civilization! You can see in the last photo the swollen creek that we could not ford. This spot was 30 miles into the hike and three days in. The weather was almost steadily wet. I don't think I have ever seen/heard/been camping in a storm as bad as the one on our second night--it was a solid sheet of water for what seemed like hours.

Before we met the flooded stream the trail was like a stream itself, under water for miles. Our few days out were quite enjoyable, though, with amazing scenery. My legs were just getting into the game and at 14 miles a day they would have been like steel.

The poison ivy was like a sea around us almost the whole time, and it was unavoidable. The rash is coming on for both of us, and it is so hard to not itch!

Luckily when we stopped it was only a few miles through the woods to a small town on a highway. We bushwacked along the stream and made it to the town, and after a short while hitchhiked back to Fayetteville. A nice father and son picked our soggy selves up and drove us right to Paul and Skye's doorstep! Good Samaritans they were.

Maybe next year we will try again. We are now spending just a few more days here then will head north again. Our van is still miles away at the end of the trail, lonesome in the rain.