Had a few chores to do at home: repair and replace some gear, get my backcountry permit for the Smokies, throw everything into the dryer.
I may have resigned myself to the fact that I and all my stuff would be at least a little, if not a lot, wet while hiking the BMT, but I wouldn’t let proximity to a dryer set on high go to waste. If only I could have crawled in there and tumbled around with Fluffy and Puffy.
Got everything squared away—umbrella duct taped, legs shaved, Fritos stocked—and headed back to the Tellico River Bridge hoping that the next 40 miles of trail would be better maintained than the last 100.
Silly me.