The plan was to hike from where USFS road 42 and the Appalachian Trail converge to the summit of Springer Mountain in Dawson County, Georgia. A moderate hike of two miles, it was my first since relocating to North Georgia from Florida.

The Springer summit represents the southern terminus of the Appalachian Trail. Located in the Chattahoochee National Forest, at 3,780 feet above sea level, Springer is among the taller mountains of Georgia.

The drive from Jasper to Blue Ridge went well, but eventually my itinerary would wobble, morphing into a rescue mission.

Lunch was fast-food in Blue Ridge. Behind me in line was a talk-master from Blairsville. I mentioned Springer Mountain and he imparted a story about his cousin’s disappearance “up there on the trail.” Apparently they found his bear-mauled remains in a ravine.

Trees and thick brush obscured the rugged terrain on both sides of the winding dirt road. I peered through thick wood for signs of wildlife. About half-way to the trailhead, a giant snake slithered across the road. It was probably a regular-sized snake, but my imagination peeked.

At the trail crossing, I checked a posting-board for recent bear incidents. There were none; that boosted my confidence.

A half-mile down trail I heard an ominous humming, like swarms of killer bees. I pushed forward with recalcitrance, only to learn later that the sound was from millions of flies that breed in the shade of Appalachian brush. Who knew? 

At the summit, blue haze shrouded long distance views. Nevertheless, it is a beautiful spot that provides a lasting impression. Two brass plaques are embedded in the rock face of the summit.

Brian was encumbered by a massive canvas supply bag strapped to his back. He asked if I was going near Amicalola Falls after my hike. Visibly distressed and sweating profusely, he had punctured his water bladder, and it had leaked over his food and gear. What’s worse, his wife had reached him by cell phone to say his four-year-old was sick back at home. Beyond that, he was exhausted and had grossly underestimated the time his venture should take.     

During the drive back to Amicalola, I learned that Brian, a really nice guy and a good sport, teaches high school near Thomasville. He hikes to unwind after school lets out for the summer. Curious, I asked Brian what gear he carried in his massive back-pack.

Apparently, modern hikers carry enough food, bedding, and electronics to live comfortably for a year, and all the while remain perpetually updated on current events and American Idol.

Brian, who you may recall grew too weary to complete his trek, was toting: a hammock; mosquito screen; DVD player; sterno-stove; gallons of water; canned drinks; lap-top computer; MP3 player; three changes-of-clothes; towels; various meals and snacks; a first-aid kit; two hiking poles; extra boots; trash bags; GPS device, and a cell phone.    

Eventually, I left a weary, thankful Brian at his car in Amicalola National Park. Driving home, it occurred to me that my Rambo approach to hiking might be more efficient than back-packing two hundred pounds of creature comforts.       

Besides, if I see that bear, perhaps I can run or climb my way to safety.

Submitted.