Day 22, Gennett Poplar to Baker Branch

We didn't have to walk far until we arrived at the first of many stream crossings. In the next six-tenths of a mile, we crossed Bear Creak or a feeder stream five more times.

When we left Bear Creek, the next 2.8 miles were divided in half by a 500-foot climb. It wasn't a steady climb because the trail made many short descents on the way up. The short ups and downs made this section tiresome.

The trail also included several sharp turns, some short and some long. It was easy to see how mountain bikers kept their speed on the turns by banking off the mountainside. Although that practice can cause erosion, I didn't see much evidence of the problem.

I met a mountain biker on the climb and talked to him briefly. Like me, he was enjoying this day on a beautiful trail.

The descent from the top of the climb was equally curvy, again with short climbs to break up the descent. Barnes Creek flowed at the bottom of this section. The trail followed the creek a short distance and crossed it a couple of times.

A footbridge constructed 18 years ago by a local Boy Scout for an Eagle project was at the last crossing on the creek. Then the trail started another climb, though this one was not as far or steep.

We reached a well-maintained Forest Service road at 10 a.m. It circled partly around Double Top Mountain. Then the trail picked up a smooth, single-track footpath again and followed that for two miles.

The single-track was followed by another gravel road. Although the real road walking will come tomorrow, we had plenty of it today. It was the kind I don't mind. A gravel forest road is much easier on the feet and more peaceful than a paved highway.

At around noon, Tengo and I arrived at Mulberry Gap Adventure Basecamp, a resort that mostly caters to mountain bikers. There were cabins and camping sites here, plus a shower house and dining hall. The place was empty today, however, because the business is closed on Mondays and Tuesdays.

We stopped there so I could pick up a food box I mailed before starting this hike. When I called about a month ago to confirm someone would accept and hold my box, I was told I could still pick it up if they were closed when I arrived.

We had to search for several minutes before finding an employee who could retrieve it. Tengo and I asked him if we could buy a cold drink, but he said he didn't have access to the cash register. We stayed long enough to eat lunch before walking back to the trail.

From the gravel road at Mulberry Gap, we followed a single-track trail on a long climb. It went up nearly 650 feet in 1.6 miles to near the top of Turkey Mountain (2320 feet). There were several switchbacks along the way to make the climb feel less steep.

I realized on the climb that my legs didn't feel weary. There was plenty of power in them to make the climb, but that wasn't a surprise. After three weeks of hiking, I should have trail legs by now.

This points out a problem of a shorter thru-hike like the one I'm on now or a LASH (Long-ass Section Hike). Your legs start to feel strong just as you're about to end your hike.

The next 2.3 miles descended from Turkey Mountain in a zigzag route similar to the previous climb. Chatsworth Highway was at the end of the descent. The trail followed it for half of a mile.

If we had wanted to hitch a ride from here, we could have gone to Fort Mountain State Park (4.5 miles away) or the town of Chatsworth (12 miles away). Both would have offered a place to stay, but at 3:30 p.m., it was too early to think about that.

Hitching wasn't a serious option anyway because it would have thrown off our plans to finish in two more days. Besides that, no cars passed us on the road.

The only view of the day came just before the trail left the road and started another single-track footpath. A gap between hills and trees provided a narrow view. If it had been just a little wider for a better angle, we might have seen Springer Mountain in the far distance. The southern terminus of the Appalachian Trail was just 27 miles away.

Leaving Chatsworth Highway, the trail followed another single-track section for nine-tenths of a mile before joining an old logging road. This one took us around Tatum Mountain and through a chaotic area. The road crossed private land being developed with large, pricey vacation homes. Because of the construction, it was hard to be sure I was on the correct route. I had to check my FarOut app two or three times.

I fell behind Tengo long before this section. When I caught up to him, he was waiting beside Baker Branch. The trail crossed the stream at that spot, and a campsite was on the other side. We discussed whether to stop there or go on to one of the other campsites ahead.

The last campsite before the start of the road walking was nine miles ahead. Neither one of us had any interest in trying to hike that far today. From where we stood, we still had to walk 36 miles before reconnecting our footsteps and completing the trail. We had already hiked 19 miles today.

We thought about adding a few more to shorten the miles for tomorrow and the next day. Then Tengo offered a suggestion that made that decision easier to make. His idea was to hike as far on the road as we could tomorrow, then call an Uber to take us to a motel in Dalton. The following day, we could walk from the motel back to where we had been picked up. This would sew up the trail for us while solving the problem of where to stay tomorrow night.

I checked the map to calculate how that would work. If we camped tonight where we were, tomorrow we could walk 21 miles to Chief Vann House State Historic Site. That was more manageable and would be a good spot for calling a ride.

Importantly, it was also a place Kim could easily find when she picked us up the day after tomorrow. These details convinced us we had a plan, and we set up camp near the creek.

Although today's hike wasn't as beautiful from end to end as yesterday, it was enjoyable. The forest continued to be thick and green. Water was again plentiful, and we never needed to carry more than a liter. And now I felt pleased to have a solid plan for finishing the Pinhoti.

A couple hours after I climbed into my tent and had fallen asleep, Nature made a little wake-up call.

A large tree snapped and came crashing down with a loud thud within a few yards of my tent. Neither Tengo nor I was injured by the fall and nothing hit our tents. Still, it was a reminder that a plan is never a guarantee.

"That was too close," I said to myself.

I couldn't have known it at the time, but I would be repeating that statement several times tomorrow.