Day 19, Icewater Spring Shelter to Tricorner Knob Shelter

Wednesday, November 1, 2023

Polecat has been talking for the last few months about wanting to hike in the Smokies in the winter. I'm unsure exactly why that appealed to him, though I suppose just the challenge of backpacking in harsh conditions was his reason.

The calendar said we were still in late fall when we started hiking yesterday. Nevertheless, Polecat got his wish for a winter trip.

We knew the temperature was forecast to turn cold overnight, but we had no idea it would become so frigid. When I woke up at 6 a.m., the temperature was in the upper single digits.

Wednesday, November 1, 2023

Weather	Low clouds, sunny skies, temperatures from single digits to low-30s, gusty winds up to 25 mph
Trail Conditions	Rugged in spots but well-maintained; some ice
Today's Miles	12.6 miles
Trip Miles	246.3 miles

A large, plastic tarp covered the front opening of Icewater Spring Shelter. Tarps like this are hung every winter at all of the shelters in Great Smoky Mountains National Park, presumably to make the shelter a little warmer. The tarp wasn't up to the task last night. A biting wind could not be stopped. It blew all night as the temperature steadily dropped.

The temperature at Mt. LeConte Lodge, which was a little more than five miles away, was recorded at 7ºF, with a wind chill of -10ºF.

I was occasionally awakened by the sound of the tarp flapping in the wind, yet I still managed to sleep warmly. I was thankful for the extra clothing I brought with me on this short trip, including a pair of insulated pants and down booties. Along with my puffy jacket, they made up for my quilt, which was rated only to 22ºF.

I didn't want to leave my warm bed when the sun came up, and for a time, I didn't have to. Polecat braved the cold to make coffee, and he brought a cup to me. This was further proof that when choosing a hiking partner, choose wisely.

I stayed warm and comfy under my quilt until 7:30 a.m. Moving quickly, it didn't take us long to get packed and on the trail. The cold was a good motivator to move with deliberate haste.

We left the shelter at 8:15 a.m.

A thin crust of snow covered the ground. Anywhere water flowed yesterday was now solid ice hidden just below the snow. I had to stay mindful of this potential hazard for most of the morning.

We were still wearing all of our extra warm layers when we started hiking, but we only needed to stay that way for about 45 minutes. The temperature hadn't inched upwards much. Our warmth came from exertion over the trail's ups and downs. Wearing one less layer was comfortable as long as we didn't stop walking.

The bitter cold presented a problem, however. Our water bottles had begun to freeze. In less than an hour, they had already become slushy ice. I tucked mine inside my outer layer to keep it from freezing solid.

The ground wasn't the only thing covered in white. Every twig and blade of grass was coated in frost. Except for wind whistling through the trees and the crunching of the trail under our shoes, there were no sounds in the forest.

Nothing to see in an opening between trees

A few spots along the trail would have given views on a clear day across a range of mountains. There was nothing to see today because the ridge the trail followed was blanketed in a thick layer of clouds.

The cloud cover made it pointless to follow a short side trail leading to a viewpoint called Charlie's Bunion, and we kept walking.

The Appalachian Trail is often called the Green Tunnel because much of the footpath is covered by a thick canopy of trees. That name wouldn't apply today, however. Every tree branch or rhododendron leaf was white.

The thick clouds began to lift around 10:30 a.m. The sunshine nudged the temperature upwards, though barely. Nevertheless, it was enough to improve the conditions.

Whether it was because of the cold or the ice, we were walking slower than usual. Tricorner Knob Shelter, where we had made a reservation for tonight, was more than 12 miles away when we left Icewater Spring Shelter. After hiking nearly three hours, we still had almost nine miles to go.

Though slightly warmer now, the temperature hadn't risen enough to melt anything. Ice ribbons were growing from the moisture in the ground. While stopped for a short break, I checked the weather app on my phone. It said the temperature in Gatlinburg had reached a balmy 24ºF.

On the trail, where the elevation was at least 4,000 feet higher than the town, it was much colder. As a rule of thumb, the temperature drops 3.5 to 5 degrees (Fahrenheit) for every 1,000 feet of elevation gained. That meant we were probably still in the single digits or teens.

Regardless, the sunshine made the temperature seem warmer than it was. Though the frost on the trees still hadn't started to melt, I was beginning to feel warmer.

Polecat and I only saw one hiker on the trail this morning. He was heading south, and I wondered if he was a SOBO thru-hiker. I didn’t get a chance to ask because he didn't stop to talk. Most likely, he thought the same thing I did. It was too cold to stop and be sociable.

Now that the sky had cleared, we could see occasional views from the trail. Despite the extreme cold, it had turned into a bluebird day.

When the trail crossed to the south side of the ridge, I could see that the frost was finally beginning to melt from the trees, but only on the side exposed to the sun.

We stopped for lunch at noon when we found a sunny spot out of the wind. We had to take advantage of the sun where we found it. There might not be another chance.

Surprisingly, a trail runner ran by as we were preparing to leave our lunch spot. Later, we met a hiker named Insect, who was working to complete a flip-flop hike after previously thru-hiking in 2016 and 2018.

At the intersection of the Hughes Ridge Trail

We passed the intersection of the Hughes Ridge Trail at 2 p.m. It led to Peck's Corner Shelter, which is where I stayed on my last night in the Smokies during my 2017 thru-hike.

From here, we still had 5.2 miles and 1,500 feet of elevation gain to complete before reaching Tricorner Knob Shelter. The cold and the wind had drained my energy, so I stopped to eat a snack bar. Polecat didn't stop and continued up the trail.

The climb took the trail above 6,000 feet in elevation, passing over or near the summits of Mount Sequoyah (6,009 feet), Mount Chapman (6,434 feet), and Mount Guyot (6,623 feet).

This section of the Appalachian Trail crossed the most remote and rugged part of the Smokies. The logging companies that removed much of the forest before the park was established hadn't reached these mountaintops. Few people ventured this deep into the mountains before 1935, when the Civilian Conservation Corps completed the trail through the park.

Still feeling weary, I had to stop again for another snack bar with 1.8 miles to go before reaching the shelter. I found a small patch of sun to stand in while I ate it.

The snack didn't help as much as I hoped. I tripped and fell, a sure sign I was feeling fatigued. Thankfully, my fall was cushioned by a thick patch of moss, and landing on it felt like plopping down on a bed of fluffy pillows.