Blood Mountain Solo Overnight

I took a mental health day off from work Friday, February 20, to go solo backpacking, sleeping overnight in the shelter atop Blood Mountain in the Chattahoochee National Forest. This year is a transitional one for me, recreation-wise; I’ve grown tired of the everything-but-the-kitchen-sink method of car camping, and am ready for something new, so I got new equipment and junk to test out. I was feeling a bit apprehensive for this reason, and also because since I was traveling alone. I kept thinking about the man I heard at the nearby Walasi-Yi Center who said that a couple had dropped their motorcycle while touring Highway 129 a few miles back, that the woman had a broken leg and needed an ambulance.

After parking at the gravel lot near the foot of Byron Reece Memorial Trail, I started off, startled at the weight of my backpack (30 pounds? 40?). Large icicles hung off exposed rock, but they were dripping slightly. Even though I’ve been working out for the first time in years, the climb up was extremely tough and exhausting with that load. I was expecting to hear ambulance sirens for the fallen motorcyclists, but none came.

хотелско обзавеждане

After .7 miles of huffing and puffing up the Reece Trail, it was time to take a right and start zigzagging up Blood Mountain via the AT. The climb is very strenuous and steep, a large segment of it a lot like climbing a skyscraper stairwell. But just when you’re sure you’re gonna collapse, the trail levels off, and eventually leads you to the summit at 4458 ft, a 1500 foot rise from your car in just two miles of walking.

distributed raman amplifier

I was so glad to see the Blood Mountain shelter, even though it looked a little bit like the abandoned house from the Blair Witch Project (without the bloody handprints, thankfully). A grizzly but nice older man who said he was on his way to Maine stopped by, briefly.


The shelter has two rooms. The one in the front has a fireplace, and I tried to use my dryer lint and shreds of twine to start a fire, but the twigs and sticks I collected were just too damp from the rains a few days before to get it going. I read the shelter’s log: Someone said the mice there were very cute, but I didn’t see any.

I set up my tent in the shelter to cut the wind whistling through the pane-less windows, and had asparagus soup and an albacore filet for dinner.

I wanted to be distracted from my alone-ness, so I had downloaded a movie, “Wanted” with Angelina Jolie, onto my ipod – the first time I have ever watched video on it. It worked pretty well, but the movie was grossly gratuitous and amoral, so I didn’t finish it. I clicked off my little electric lantern and slept pretty well in the 27-degree night air.



Breakfast of peaches ‘n cream low sugar oatmeal, instant coffee, and orange slices was very enjoyable. (My obsession of late with powdered and portable food – Coffee Mate, Crystal Light, Wendy’s Chile sauce, etc., etc., - was really paying off!) I didn’t bring enough water, though, so I had to melt icicles – a lot of work for about six ounces of liquid. My lower back was hurting from sitting Indian-style so much, but I was feeling fantastic otherwise as I broke down the tent, re-stuffed and re-strapped my supplies onto my back, and started making my way down at about 11 in the morning.



The trek down took an hour and twenty, as opposed to about two hours going up. This segment of the AT must be pretty popular, for I said howdy to at least two dozen people who were on the way up for a day trip. I felt extremely satisfied driving home, and turned The Black Keys fantastic CD Rubber Factory, full of low-fi fuzzy guitar white-boy blues, all the way to eleven.