Florida Trail Thru-Hike Day One “Torture”

My Brother, Nick and my nephew Ian drove me the two and a half hour drive from his house in Alabama to the trail head at the Alabama-Florida state line, after navigating our way around a washed out road we were on a single lane red clay forest road in his white (now two-tone with a red clay lower half) Suburban. Working our way through a few slippery rutted puddles in this big two-wheel drive SUV. With muddy ditches on both sides of us that few four wheel drive vehicles would climb back out of after a misjudgment  and dreaded slide off coarse. There it was we finally made it to the first orange blaze, the mark I would follow and would guide me through the scenic Florida Trail for 1100 miles.

I heaved my heavy packs on and we said our good-byes and was on my way, within 100ft I came to a”T” intersection in the dirt road and looked closely for the next orange blaze with none in site I took a right and hoped to see another one soon, no luck, so I turned around headed back across the intersection, as I was passing I got a glimpse of the white Suburban as it fired up and started its way back up the forest road. What a strange feeling, I’ve never been dropped off in the middle of no-where. I started running toward the Suburban as it sloshed through another wet spot splashing more red clay on the white paint. I was yelling “Stop, Wait, Never Mind I don’t want to anymore I’ve changed my mind come back take me home”… I imagined, for a second, but shook my head and started once again searching for the next orange blaze, there it was off to the right and to the left was a kiosk with a mail box and a bench marking the official terminus of the Florida Trail and the Alabama Trail.

I removed my packs to re-situate the load and sign the log book, a small spiral note book, I signed Marcus Adkins Thru-Hiking the Florida Trail November 7th 2009, and also Diego Rivera my dogs full name  after the famous Mexican artist married to Frida Kahlo. After signing the log I took the first picture of the journey of Diego and I clean and ready to go.

I looked at my packs hearing my brothers voice echo in my head “Those packs are way too heavy” I knew they were but I was hoping my will power would carry some of the weight. I had way too much food to begin with and was carrying things no long distance hiker would consider bringing on such a journey. I re-situated my packs and heaved the heavy load on my back, and strapped to the shoulder straps was my camera bag with my camera and laptop resting on my chest.

I only made it 3 tenths of a mile before the heavy load brought me to my knees the camera bag was weighing down my shoulder straps to a painful pinch on my collar bone. I rested for a moment and came up with a solution to strap my tri-pod to the backpack relieving some of the load off of my collar bone. With the weight re-distributed I started off once again feeling like I could go on, but that feeling was short lived. The weight of the packs was torturous and shortly brought me back to my knees. I sat there for a moment trying to come up with solutions made a few adjustments and then checked my GPS to discover I had only moved another 1/2 mile, getting up was getting harder but I pressed on hoping for a full mile before I would need another break, as I walked the thoughts of giving up were trying to make a stand, but I shrugged them off to push on a few more steps only to again be defeated by the weight and now the the mental struggle making a strong presence. Here I am a little over a mile in and already entertaining thoughts of calling it off. Do I not have what it takes to accomplish such a long journey?

The pain of lugging the heavy load was stealing the enjoyment of the beauty that was surrounding me, diminishing all thoughts of actually taking a Photograph, narrowing my vision to nothing but the path in front of me and searching for the next orange blaze one torturous step after the other. Three and a half  miles in and I was already defeated, trying to come up with scenarios and excuses to “save face” with all of the people I had told of my journey to Thru-Hike the Florida Trail. Most of all the “nay-sayers” the ones who would have the most “I told you so’s”. The thought of years from now the comments of “Remember when you thought you were going to Hike the Florida Trail?” – “What a Dumb-Ass!” So it went on and on, torture, physically and mentally, half a mile, rest then push on, four tenths of a mile, rest then push on. What the hell am I doing out here?

4.8 Miles in, where the hell is this damn Beaver Creek Rd I was supposed to be crossing at 4.1 miles? I checked my map and my GPS, with no “transport button” I had to don the backpacks again and try to walk a little further with my mind and body protesting every step. 5.3 miles finally Beaver Creek Rd which, by the way, was the mileage I was supposed to be crossing North Hurricane Lake Campground Rd for the second time! By 6 miles in the sun was starting its descent faster and faster as I searched the landscape for any possible campsite. As I rounded a corner and passed through a fallen tree with a section cut out the width of the trail, I found a spot that at the time looked as good as any campsite. I stomped around back and forth  trying to make a flat spot to set up my tent, then I laid down my tarp and continued to stomp it down as flat as possible, set up my tent and hung my food in a tree just out of the reach of bears. I called my parents to let them know where I was at and how things were going, almost hoping for them to ask me if I wanted them to come get me.

I climbed in to my tent ready for a very needed rest. Reflecting on the day and how torturous it had become with the few extra pounds I was not used to carrying. I was wondering if I had what it would take to push on and make another day let alone complete the 1100 mile journey. I decided that in the morning I would hike the almost 2 miles to North Hurricane Lake Campground and rest for the day. Hopefully after a day of rest and a trash can to throw away any unnecessary weight I would be able to move on with lightened packs and hopefully a lift in my optimism.

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