What is Len Foote Hike Inn?
Len Foote Hike Inn is probably one of the most unique experiences the adventure traveler can have. Nestled high in the mountains of north Georgia, Len Foote Hike Inn is not your grandmother’s B&B. Unless, of course, your grandmother is Emma Gatewood. This totally cool and environmentally friendly place is accessible only by foot trail. You literally must hike in to Hike Inn. Neat, right?
A Milestone Birthday deserves an Epic Adventure.
For my 50th birthday I wanted to do something challenging. I have always been fascinated by the Appalachian Trail, the renowned footpath that passes through 14 states, covering a distance of nearly 2,200 miles. It happens that Hike Inn is relatively close to the start of the AT, near Springer Mountain Georgia. The inn’s trailhead is located in Amicalola Falls State Park, just a couple hours’ drive from Atlanta. April is a peak month for hikers beginning their northbound, or NOBO, thru hike of the AT. Adventure junkies set off from Springer Mountain each year in the hopes of reaching Mount Katahdin Maine, the northern terminus of the Appalachian Trail. What a perfect time to hit the trail myself! My wife Jamey was a little surprised by my choice of birthday trips, but being the good sport that she is, agreed to give it a go.
Just a walk in the woods, right?
What may be one person’s average walk in the woods, can quite easily be another’s most difficult challenge. A moderately rated trail for the experienced hiker is more likely a strenuous trail for the novice. My experience on the Len Foote Hike Inn trail fell into that second category. I thought I was prepared for the trip as I had been conditioning myself with weekly hikes. Each week I would increase my distance until I finally reached about 6 miles. We live in the coastal region of South Georgia. Trails down here achieve average elevation gains of maybe 18 feet. According to AllTrails.com, the Len Foote Hike Inn trail is a 4.7-mile trail, with an elevation gain of 1,207 feet. I was confident that my 6-mile hikes had adequately prepared me for the trek. I had underestimated the effect of altitude, not to mention how hard uphill switchbacks could be!
Geared up and ready to go!
After spending a lovely evening at Amicalola Lodge, we indulged in a hearty breakfast and prepared to hit the trail. According to the Hike Inn website, the trek takes approximately two to four hours to complete. They require you to check in at the Visitor’s Center in Amicalola Falls State Park, or if staying at Amicalola Lodge, you may check in at the reservation desk. They have a strict check in policy of no later than 2 p.m., which according to their estimates would allow sufficient time for guests to arrive by 5 p.m. This is when they conduct a facility tour demonstrating the various sustainable features of the inn, such as their solar panels, vermiculture beds (worm composting), as well as a thorough discussion about the inn’s composting toilets. More on that later.
The parking lot for Hike Inn is located at the top of the waterfalls in Amicalola Falls State Park. Parking passes are purchased at the park entrance upon arrival, or you may wish to spring for an annual pass that allows you unlimited parking in any of the Georgia state parks. As of the date of this post the cost for an annual pass is $50. Not a bad deal if you plan on doing a lot of hiking, or other activities, in Georgia’s state parks.
Pack light – your back will thank you for it!
Hike Inn is not a hotel; however, it is also not totally primitive. You may bring a sleeping bag if you choose, however they do provide blankets, sheets, etc. There really is no need to pack too heavy. Just what you plan on wearing and minimal toiletries, such as a toothbrush and toothpaste. A light day pack will suffice. Of course, I’m saying this from experience, as I was the only idiot to schlep along a four-pound DSLR camera. Seriously. Granted, there are plenty of beautiful shots to be taken along your journey, however, word of advice – your cell phone, or a small pocket camera will suffice. You will, as I did, regret anything more substantial. Not to mention the amount of time and effort you will put into protecting that National Geographic worthy camera.
What is a MUST are trekking poles. They will quickly become your best friends, especially on the downhills, which I lived for by the way. The downhills may be easier on your lungs, but they can wreak havoc on your knees and lower back. Trekking poles help absorb the shock of uneven steps on challenging terrain. For larger folks they offer a bit of stability, not to mention a confidence boost when you need it most. I absolutely love mine. A good set of trekking poles is one of the most important tools you will take on the trail with you.
All is well that begins well?
The first eighth of a mile went rather well. Despite the gradual increase in elevation, I was feeling pretty confident. After all, I had those good trekking poles, and I was putting them to work. It was a beautiful April morning. The sun softly cascaded through the trees. We were enjoying the first hour of the hike. However, the enjoyment started to wane a little as the trail continued to climb into the North Georgia mountains. I found myself stopping more frequently to take a breath. I cleverly disguised these oxygen breaks as opportunities to look around and take in all the beauty of nature – to snap a few photos with the canon-sized (clever pun intended) camera lens that dangled from my neck like a millstone. The luster of that perfect mountain morning was beginning to fade.
It was very early in the hike when a large group of schoolchildren came barreling down the trail past us. They were apparently returning from a camp trip to Hike Inn. The fact that they had just hiked five miles was in no way evident on their darling little faces. “It can’t be that bad.” I told myself, as my breathing became more labored. “I’m just getting into gear. Once we get to the top of that ridge it will get easier.” The top of the ridge would bring my first disappointment.
Mile Marker #1
At the top of the ridge, we came upon a slight clearing with a marker indicating that we had come one mile along our journey. One mile? We had been hiking for well over an hour, surely, we have come farther than that. Nope – one mile. Our hearts sank. It was evident that this was going to be more difficult than we anticipated. Difficult for us, that is. It didn’t seem to faze the school group that frolicked past us, or the increasing number of other hikers who had begun to pass us by. The realization that we were in for a more intense experience than we had planned on would call for drastic measures.
Snickers – Survival food of the gods.
I took extra caution to make sure we would not starve to death on the trail. Snickers bars are a staple in every hiker’s pack. Forget the trail mix, a Snickers bar has it all – protein, carbs, a good dose of chocolate to boost not only your energy, but your mental stamina as well. I packed four full-size bars thinking we could each have one on the way there and then again on the way back. I believe I may have also packed some peanut M&M’s and maybe a KitKat bar or two. Regardless, we were prepared. As for water, we each carried a liter-sized bottle in our pack. I also packed a water filter should the need arise to draw water from the wild. I was soon glad that I did. We sucked through those bottles of water like it was an open bar at a fancy wedding!
When I realized we might be in trouble.
Three hours had passed by the time we came upon mile marker #2. More hikers were starting to pass us at this point, including a few who been to the inn on a day hike and were making their way back. I’m no math wizard, but I was more than amply concerned at this point. Two thirds of the trail remained ahead of us.
The trail felt like a dragon’s tail. Up we climbed to a ridge, and back down we went to a bog. I looked forward to the downhills because my lungs could get a break. There were spots along the way that were so low that you had to cross them on narrow wooden planks. It was really cool along those stretches, but they were always followed by an incline straight up the next mountain.
At the bottom of one hill, we came upon a little stream. I decided to top off our water bottles by trying out my new filter. It worked perfectly. Although most experienced hikers probably wouldn’t bother bringing along water filtration for such a short hike, I was very thankful that we had ours. The other item we were both very thankful that we brought was moleskin. We put some on sensitive areas of our feet before we started the hike and carried extra with us in our pack. Smart move! Halfway through the hike our feet started to rub in our shoes. If we didn’t have the moleskin, those hot spots would have certainly turned into blisters.
Ages had gone by before we came upon the third mile marker. It was at the top of yet another hill, with a wonderful view of the surrounding mountains. I wish I could say that I enjoyed that view, but I was blinded by tears. It was 3:30 in the afternoon and we had only come a little more than halfway! We were in a predicament to say the least.
At this point every hiker headed to Len Foote Hike Inn had passed us. To make matters worse, we had depleted our supply of Snickers and we were down to less than one bottle of water between us. Dinner was just two hours away, and they are adamant about dinner time. I threw down my trekking poles and had a good old-fashioned cry. We were screwed! How could I have been so stupid as to think we could do this? Every other hiker that passed us that day was half our size. I’m an idiot. Are we going to be stuck in the woods overnight? Are they going to send out the dogs to look for us? Will we have to eat a squirrel? This is the most foolish thing I’ve ever tried to do. Woe is me; I wish I could eat Gummy Worms.
The “Next Stump” Method.
Jamey let me vent…and vent…and vent. Then suddenly I came to my senses. We had no choice but to hike on. We had to summon our trail warrior goddesses to get us out of this. After all, dinner was at stake! I picked up my trekking poles and came up with a plan. I pointed to a stump about thirty yards ahead along the trail. “Do you see that stump?” I asked Jamey. “Yes”, she replied. “Let’s just get to that stump and take a breath.” We trudged up to the stump, then stopped and took ten deep breaths. Then we focused on the next stump…then a tree…then a rock. One by one we reached these little “summits”. We stopped, we breathed, we carried on. We broke the trail down into manageable pieces and it worked.
After ninety minutes or so, we noticed something off in the distance. Something beautiful and sublime – a roofline! High atop the next ridge, a structure rose magnificently from the forest. It was Hike Inn! The Dali Lama’s Temple couldn’t have been more beautiful to us in that moment. We had just one more hill to climb. I was so tired I could barely walk. I advised Jamey to go ahead of me and check us in and I would be there shortly. She turned around and uttered the phrase that proved I had married well – “I’m not summiting without you!”
Congratulations on making it to Len Foote Hike Inn.
Arm in arm we crawled up that hill and barged into the lobby as though we were returning from the summit of Everest. Every other hiker who passed us that day was sitting around leisurely listening to the orientation being conducted by a Hike Inn staff member. Grace and composure quickly evaporated from the room as Jamey and I plopped down our packs and collapsed into chairs too small for our asses. One of the hikers, who I recognized as passing us hours prior, snarked “Congratulations on making it.” I just smiled and bit my tongue, holding back the words “Making it? Who else here carried a refrigerate up this mountain today?” Hell yes we made it! We did the thing…we made that trail our beotch! Pass the celebratory ram’s horn of mead. We are in the house! Whoop-whoop!
Gloating aside, we were so thankful to have survived. I mean- arrived. The inn gives a wonderful tour of their facilities, which we attempted to follow along with, but were so worn out that we really couldn’t enjoy it. We got checked in and made our way to our “room”.
Earlier I mentioned that Hike Inn is not a hotel, but it is not totally primitive either. Allow me to explain exactly what our experience was like. The rooms are very tiny with just a set of single bunk beds, hooks on the wall to hang your packs, a small table to set stuff on and a heater/fan. That’s it. The bathrooms are located in the main building and feature composting toilets. An interesting experience. There is a strange breeze that blows against your backside when you sit down. Don’t be alarmed, that’s just a circulating fan that keeps things from smelling. Do be careful with your phone or other valuables. If you happen to drop them in the “pit”, they will gladly allow you to retrieve them, but you are on your own.
There is also a shower room with shower stalls and shower curtains where you can get cleaned up after your hike. The inn provides shampoo and liquid soap, so there is no need to pack your own. They also provide towels and hairdryers.
Luckily for us, we arrived in time for dinner. As mentioned earlier, they are sticklers for schedules. Dinner is served promptly at 5:30 p.m. and it is family-style. This is where you get to sit and chat with all the other hikers who have made the trek to the inn. The food was very good and much appreciated, as we were starving from our epic journey. We enjoyed the fare and the conversation; however, we were so tired that we made an early night of it. The showers were a welcomed treat after such a long day of physical exertion, and the bunks were comfortable enough, although we had to make our own beds. It was really like camp style, but that all added to the ambiance of it.
Coffee and the best sunrise ever at Len Foote Hike Inn.
Morning came quickly and with it one of the most amazing sunrises I have ever seen. Rising over the Blue Ridge mountains, the sun cast a gorgeous glow of purple and orange over the smoky peaks. We sat in lovely Adirondack chairs, drinking our morning coffee and admiring the splendor of it.
Breakfast was hearty and served family-style once again. The topics of conversation amongst the hikers, experienced and otherwise, ranged from hiking the Appalachian trail, to trekking to Everest basecamp. We didn’t have much to offer in terms of adventure experiences, but we did have questions. Top of the list was – is there any other way out of here? Just as we had anticipated, the answer was no – you hike in, and you hike out. But there were options. We could return the way in which we came, or we could opt to continue hiking in the direction we were going, and in about one mile the Len Foote Hike Inn trail would meet the Appalachian Approach trail. If we hang a left there it will lead us back to Amicalola Falls State Park, and civilization as we once knew it.
The good news, as we derived from a lesson in reading a topographical map, was that there were fewer uphill climbs along this route. The bad news was that it was a little bit longer of a hike. “Just a tad”, as one experienced hiker put it. Allow me to clarify – what “just a tad” means to someone who has recently returned from trekking the Himalayas, can easily translate into a hellish day’s journey for someone who has recently given up the McDonald’s drive-thru. I didn’t care. I was willing to sacrifice a little extra time for the sake of my lungs collapsing from oxygen deprivation. Besides, following the Appalachian Approach trail meant there was a good chance we would run into thru-hikers – that special breed of pain junky that I longed to be one day.
Just a tad longer?
Let me premise the remainder of this post by stating that I am thankfully still married. Whereas the previous day’s three-hour jaunt took us six plus hours to complete, the return hike took us no less than eight. Granted, the hike back seemed a little less strenuous, however it was by no means easy. The saving grace was the hikers we passed. At least a dozen or more brave souls on their way to Maine. I stopped each one of them to ask about their aspirations. After the fourth encounter Jamey got wise to my motives. It wasn’t just their journey I was interested in; the truth was I welcomed any chance I could get to stop walking and let my lips do the moving for a couple of minutes.
I interviewed everyone we passed that day! I asked them where they were from, when they anticipated reaching Maine – what their trail name was. Every legit hiker has a trail name. It’s a nickname they either give themselves or is bestowed on them by fellow hikers. It’s something unique, often quirky, that defines them and/or their hiking style.
What we did notice about the thru-hikers that we passed that day was that there were no two alike. These trail warriors were as diverse as their trail names, and their hiking gear was just as varied. Some were “ultra-light” hikers with minimalist packs and trail running shoes, no doubt designed to get the most miles out of each day. Others were practically lumberjacks with burdensome packs that made my back ache just looking at them. Some wore shoes, some wore boots. Some had caps, others had bandanas. They were all different and from different walks of life. Some brought their dog along for company. These hikers would get a little extra interviewing time from me. I offered the last of our water to a pooch who was panting his way up a particularly steep hill.
Probably the most unique hiker we encountered was a fellow who, in addition to his backpack, was carrying luggage. Being of impressive girth himself, he had a rather large duffle bag clutched in a bear hug as he trudged uphill. We ran into him about two miles from the start of the approach trail where he was already inquiring about the location of the nearest shelter. I’m not sure if he ever made it to Maine, but I sure do give him credit for trying!
A Trail Name is earned.
The return hike from Len Foote Hike Inn was long and demanding, but eventually we traversed our last hill, and the welcomed site of buildings came into view. Once again, our persistence paid off. We made it! Jamey was kind enough to fetch the car while I cooled my swollen feet in a stream. The Len Foote Hike Inn trail had been conquered!
As I sat there on the bank of that stream, my body completely spent and my soul overjoyed with accomplishment, I could hear the trail whisper back to me, bestowing upon me a sacred new name. “Congratulations on making it, Next Stump”.
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