Dates ........ Tuesday, September 25, 2001
Miles ........ 7.9 miles, climb 1250 feet
From ........ Iron Mt. Shelter (Iron Mountains)
To .............Double Springs Shelter (Holston Mt.)
Weather ... Cold and wet 30 degree AM, day was in mid 40's, windy, cloudy - clearing late.

Tuesday, September 25, 2001

Nick Grindstaff's Grave, Holston Mountain

It was a very cold, wet, nasty morning. I knew I was only going to hike a short distance (about 8 miles) so I was in no hurry to leave the warm comfort of my sleeping bag. I can take my time, relax and enjoy myself. No need to push on the climbs or to "make the miles". I was anxious to get home, as I always am as the hike nears its end, but my pickup date was fixed, so there was no sense in being earlier.

I stayed in bed until 9, then got up, packed and was on the trail around 10. I wore a T-shirt, long sleeve shirt, long pants, a wool cap and my windbreaker until about 11, then I removed the cap and windbreaker. It was a raw day. I thought about Linguini, Mr. Magoo and Sleepy Scout, wondering if they were warm enough. They would be OK if they spent the night in a hostel as planned. Or they could have spent a very cold night, shivering. I hope they were warm.

Shortly after leaving the shelter I came to Nick Grindstaff's tomb and monument. To quote the AT guidebook:

" ……the monument bears the inscription 'Uncle Nick Grindstaff - born Dec 26, 1851 - died July 22, 1923- Lived alone, suffered alone, and died alone.' Orphaned at three, Nick Grindstaff was robbed and beaten at 26 years of age on a trip to the West. Disillusioned, he became a hermit and lived the remaining 45 years of his life on Iron Mountain with only his dog as a companion. When Nick was found dead in his nearby shanty, his faithful dog had kept watch over the body for three or four days. The dog had to be overpowered and tied up before the body could be removed."

At least he lived out his life in a very beautiful place, on top of Iron Mountain ridge overlooking the valley below.

In the middle of the day I listened to a reading of a section of President Jimmy Carter's memoirs on NPR. It was very enjoyable, well written and very well read and gave me an entirely different perspective on the man. Then I found a clearing on the ridge with a nice open view of the Tennessee farm valley below. I took off my pack, ate some lunch and lingered a while, enjoying the on and off moments when the sun would break through and radiate its warmth on me. I could see all the way back to Roan Mountain - the high elevation point of this hike that I climbed in the rain six days ago. As the day got cooler it cleared up.

Reluctantly, I moved on. On the trail I met a nice young man hiking with his two dogs. He was hiking to help get over the events of September 11. He seemed in good spirits, well equipped and his dogs were great company for him. I would have liked to spend more time with him, but he was headed in the opposite direction and had just come from the shelter I was headed to. His trail name was Kokopelli, his real name Shane, and his dogs were Jack and Abigail. Soon after we parted I found myself the sole occupant of Double Spring shelter. I changed into dry socks and sneakers, hung my wet socks to dry, got water, ate supper, and listened to the radio before falling asleep.

Double Springs Shelter

 

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