Скачать или смотреть Part 1 - AT ‘26 - Day 41 - February 10, 2026, Sam’s Gap to Spivey Gap

February 10, 2026

Today most of the tramily pointed themselves south and marched back into Great Smoky Mountains.

Now technically… I did not need The Smokies. I already tangoed with that section back in October. And while I love a dramatic mountain reunion as much as the next hiker, I simply could not justify wasting a perfectly glorious day driving home like some sort of responsible adult.

Absolutely not.

So instead, I jumped north to knock out another stretch of trail near Sam’s Gap. 😝😝

The weather? Chef’s kiss.
The trail? A sloppy, slip-sliding, peanut-butter-textured disaster.

I wasn’t hiking.
I was auditioning for Appalachian Ice Capades.

Every step required careful negotiation. There was less “confident stride” and more “mildly controlled downhill skiing without skis.” If grace had entered the chat, it immediately left.

But wait.
Enter: Roscoe.

There is a dog named Roscoe who lives near Sam’s Gap. Roscoe does not believe in fences, boundaries, or being told “no thank you.” Roscoe believes in ADVENTURE.

Apparently, Roscoe sensed a kindred spirit.

Because from the moment we crossed paths, he decided I was his human for the day.

Thirteen.
Point.
Seven-Nine
Miles.

I tried to send him home.
I encouraged him to reconsider his life choices.
I even attempted to pawn him off on some unsuspecting day-hikers.

Roscoe declined all transfer attempts.

He stuck to me like mud on trail runners. Like peanut butter to the roof of your mouth. Like me to a “bad idea but make it scenic” decision.

At one point, in a fit of snowball chasing enthusiasm, Roscoe achieved peak joy velocity and barreled directly into me, effectively taking me out.

Down I went.

Nothing bruised but my pride and possibly my dignity. Roscoe, meanwhile, popped up immediately, thrilled with his performance and ready for round two.

Honestly?
It’s hard to be mad when you’re being tackled by pure happiness.

And so we skied, slid, and stumbled our way through 13.5 miles of glorious chaos, me and my uninvited, four-legged trail escort.

Some people hike solo.
I apparently get assigned adventure chaperones.

Stay tuned for part 2 to determine how I managed to get off the mountain just before dark-thirty with a dog still in tow miles away from where he lives.

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