Death On The Trail
This post is written in response to Sunday Photo Fiction.
My story follows the picture below.
It was 53 degrees when he left Springer Mountain on the third of April. The weather conditions were ideal but he knew that could change quickly.
He had no intention of completing the whole 2,200 miles of the A.T. He was not a “thru-hiker.” He was a ‘north-bounder” which is what people were called who hiked the A.T. from south to north.
It was his first real hike but he felt he was ready. He had purchased a new compass and lightweight tent from Dick’s Sporting Goods. The first seventy five miles of the A.P. were in Georgia. He goal was to accomplish that portion of the trail.
The first day was a bit more than he expected but he had made it to the first shelter which was actually a lean-to. This mornings hike would take him up Blood Mountain which at 4,461 feet and was the highest peak in Georgia. The trails had proved easy to navigate; the white painted blazes marked the main trail and the blue ones to shelters.
It was around 10 a.m. when the first pain struck. It was more like a tingle running down his right side. A ten minute break seemed to ease his pain. But the second round of pain was much more severe. He tried to steady himself against a large boulder but slipped to the wet ground.
Opening his eyes he realized it was almost dark. His legs were unresponsive. The last thing he heard was the sound of laughter coming from the next shelter.