Here's a YouTube Video I made documenting my Benton MacKaye FKT: https://fkt.s.gy/BMT_FKT
Trip Report:
I've been looking forward to writing this trip report for three years now. I have more stories from this trail than I'll share here, but it's been a long time coming.
To make it brief: The first time I attempted an FKT on the Benton MacKaye Trail, I made it 178 miles to Webb Brothers Store. I noticed my ankle was severely swollen, and I didn't want to get stranded/evacuated from the middle of nowhere, so I decided to bail. In hindsight, it was likely just edema, which I know how to deal with now.
The 2nd attempt, I made it 240 miles, 49 miles from the finish, and tore my right calf ascending Scroggin Knob. It was a mundane injury. I just took a step, my calves were overly tight, and the muscle just couldn't extend any further. Tiny tear, but I had no choice but to leave the trail as I couldn't walk faster than a mile per hour.
Back for my third attempt in 2026. I thought a lot during my hike, "There's no way I'm making a fourth attempt. I think I'm done at this point." This trail is so rugged, so remote, so lonely. It takes quite the toll on you.
I followed my usual routine. Rented a car in Philly, drove to Newport, TN. Maria from Standing Bear Hostel picked me up, and I stayed the night at Standing Bear. It's a great way to get ready for 5 lonely days on the trail. I woke up at 5am on the day of the attempt, made some coffee, walked out of the kitchen of Standing Bear, and Maria was standing on her porch.
She said, "You ready?"
I chuckled. I knew I'm never ready to start an FKT, but it was definitely time to leave. We chatted along the 15-minute drive to Big Creek Trailhead. She dropped me off, wished me luck, and I was off into the "known." I've now got the first 178 miles of this trail burned into my brain.
Day 1
Distance - 60.6 mi
Elevation - 13,914 ft
Elapsed Time - 18:54:09
I started my watch at 6:29am (couldn't wait the extra minute to make it a round time) and quickly started jogging the best I could up the initial 4,000', 6-mile ascent. This was now the 4th time I've done this climb. The first time was about 10 years ago with my wife on a leisurely backpacking trip when I first visited the Smokies.
Made it to the top and kept moving quickly. 18, 19, 18, 16, 16, 15, 18, 19, 15-minute miles. I was making really great pace. I was actually slower last year than the first year, so my mantra this trip was "Be Quick."
The trail was pretty overgrown, but I was expecting that. It was mid-May and a warm spring. Not ideal on such a rugged, lesser-traveled trail, but I've been on worse. I was definitely concerned about the sections through Joyce Kilmer/Slickrock Wilderness, but that was to deal with another day.
I break this day into two sections - Big Creek to Smokemont and Smokemont to the Road to Nowhere. I cruised to Smokemont, feeling really good. Began the ascent up and tried to stay consistent with my pace.
Saw a bear cub run up the trail in the direction I was headed. Stopped and started yelling for mom. Never saw the mom. Saw a few other bears and wild pigs, but didn't really take mental notes of where.
I made it down to Noland Creek, where you have to "ford" a few times, but never even got my feet wet. It was still light out, I had never seen Noland Creek in the light before. This would be a theme for this trip: seeing so much more in the daylight. Not only were the days longer in May, but I was moving so much faster than in prior years that I would end up many hours ahead.
Got a little turned around at two campsites. Lost only a minute or two.
Finally got to the forest road section after Campsite 65 (where I was forced to stop two years ago after almost going hypothermic in 8 hours of 48-degree rain). Cruised down the road and BAM, I was under the Road to Nowhere. That was fast.
Headed up the road, reserved my campsite on the Reserve America app, went through the most terrifying tunnel I've ever experienced... made it to Forney Creek and saw there were two tents there. Fortunately, the creek is loud, so I stayed a few hundred yards away, blew up my sleeping pad, and quickly lay down. Set my alarm for an hour and shut my eyes.
Day 2
Distance - 53.3 mi
Elevation - 11,414 ft
Elapsed Time - 18:52:06
Hours slept previous night - 1
Alarm went off at 3am, snoozed once, got up at 3:10am. Assessed my feet and took 10 minutes to tape some blisters and sore areas. Packed up my gear, took out my Day 2 food bag, and tucked it into my chest pockets.
I typically start very slow when I first wake up, 28, 29-minute miles, so I made it a point to maintain my mantra of "Be Quick." 22, 21, 22, 22, 19... Ok, moving at a decent pace. Just need to keep this up until daybreak and then I'll start moving faster.
Pretty uneventful trek across Fontana Lake. Much more grown in than my previous two attempts, so I couldn't really see the lake. Lots of getting whacked in the face by branches and leaves, but not nearly as many blowdowns as previous years.
This isn't one of my favorite sections of trail because it's kinda boring and very much the same terrain. I was making really consistent pace though, averaging 20-minute miles. A full 4 minutes per mile faster than the previous year.
Late afternoon, I'm zoned out, walking up an ascent, and all of a sudden, maybe 20 miles in, my brain screams "snake!" It's so crazy how the startle reflex causes you to freeze so quickly when you notice a snake. It was a timber rattler lying across the trail. Never even rattled or moved. I gave it a wide berth and kept moving.
Finally exited the Lakeshore Trail at 2pm. I thought, this is crazy, I'm usually crossing Fontana Dam around dusk.
I crossed the dam, snapped some pictures, and enjoyed seeing people for a few minutes. Hopped onto the AT and was delighted at how well the tread was maintained, but knew it was short-lived. Hopped off the AT and onto the forest road up to Fontana Village, then up the steep 1,000' climb to the ridge to Tapoco.
The ridge was in its usual shape. Kinda overgrown, tough to follow, lots of briars, but it was in the daylight for the first time. I descended off the ridge after 9 miles to Tapoco Lodge.
Mark my word, someday I will stay here. It looked delightful. Bar and restaurant overlooking the river, people laughing and smiling. Again, it was the first time I've seen it in the daylight. The last two times I passed were midnight or later.
I couldn't believe how well I was moving. I was sorta sad passing through because I knew I was about to enter the roughest terrain (in my opinion) of the whole trail.
Last time, I had stopped at Yellowhammer Gap. I reached it just at sunset this time, so I knew I was going to push on. I made it all the way up to Big Fat Gap. It's a steep ascent after 50 miles, 1,800' in 6 miles, some blowdowns, tight trail.
I got to the campsite I recalled being very wide open on a sort of cliff edge, but it was super overgrown with grass. I walked about 200 yards and the road was there. I decided to walk back and camp in the grass, which I try to avoid due to ticks.
Ticks or dealing with drunken dudes in the middle of the night? Tough call.
I set up my bug bivy, no rain so no tarp, blew up my sleeping pad, and quickly set my alarm for 3 hours.
I did not sleep well. My hips hurt incredibly bad and I couldn't really get to sleep. I also kept sliding down to the foot of my bug bivy because I was on a slant.
I eventually gave up, picked up my entire bug bivy, and walked the 200 yards to the road/parking lot. I set everything back down, crawled in, and finally fell asleep. This is so far in the middle of nowhere, I doubt anyone will mess with me in the next two hours.
I lay down for 3 hours but definitely didn't sleep that much. Maybe 90 minutes.
Day 3
Distance - 53.1 mi
Elevation - 11,214 ft
Elapsed Time - 22:02:52
Hours slept previous night - 3'ish - Got up around halfway to move my sleep setup
Alarm went off, one snooze, sat up and taped my feet. Squirrel's Nut Butter on the bottom of my feet, back where my pack rubs, and "chafing areas." I always take at least 15-20 minutes a morning taping my feet. I should just tape them before the trip, but I never learn.
I was not looking forward to this climb. It's 1,700' in 3 miles of super technical, rocky terrain. The trail was super overgrown, very tight, mountain laurel smacking me in the face. Slippery wet rocks.
Last year I averaged 27 minutes, 48 seconds over this 48-mile section. Horrendous. I was determined to be faster this year.
It was originally supposed to rain this day (of course when I'm at 5,000' elevation for multiple hours), but the forecast completely changed and called for no rain. I got SO lucky.
Finally made it to the top. My pace was kinda sucking, but not miserable. The sun rose when I was up high and it was beautiful. My brain always turns back on as soon as the sun comes up, so I felt much better.
Finally made it to Whigg Meadow and began the big descent down. During the descent I hear ahead, "Bob?!"
It was Kevin. We chatted on Facebook prior to our trips. He was thru-hiking north and I was heading south. I was hoping we'd run into each other when he wasn't sleeping.
We chatted for a few minutes. He said the trail was in great condition in Georgia, not much to look out for. Lots of bears, but that's it.
After a few minutes we said bye and I kept moving.
Made it down to the Tellico River, up an easy climb, and into Upper Bald River Wilderness. Again, a very remote section. I made great time through this trail and entered the "Heart of Darkness." Wild hogs ran off. I saw SO many hogs on this trip I lost count. 50?
I sort of consider this the section from where you ascend out of the Bald River, over Hazelnut Knob, Sandy Gap, all the way to Unicoi Gap.
I made it about 10 miles past where I camped the previous year in the daylight this time. Again, I was shocked at how much faster I was moving, how much more of the trail I was seeing in the daylight. This was all dark and lonesome last year. This year, it was bright and welcoming.
Grabbed some water from a seep, which was needed after about 15 miles. I decided to bypass the spring just past Sandy Gap to save some time, as it's a steep climb down and back up.
Cruised through Unicoi Gap in the dark and hit the motorcycle trails. I could definitely tell I was starting to get tired because I was starting to stumble, bob, and weave, which was especially difficult on these rutted trails.
I stopped to put on my windbreaker, started moving, and BOTH feet somehow got caught on a root. I started to fall forward, and at the last second put my hands out and caught myself from smashing my face into the ground. That was close.
My goal was Coker Creek because there's a good flat campsite there and water. No water between where I was and there.
Finally made it down the big descent and stopped at Coker. No one else there. Quickly set up my bug bivy and pad. Kinda funny because I've only seen this section in the daylight, the morning after my Day 3.
Set my alarm for 3 hours.
Day 4
Distance - 47.6 mi
Elevation - 9,810 ft
Elapsed Time - 19:30:19
Hours slept previous night - 3
Alarm goes off at 4:20am, snooze once. Get out of my bivy. Everything is cold and wet. Foggy. Not the best campsite, but it's fine because I'm moving shortly.
I check my phone and it only has 30%. I check my 20,000mah battery bank and it has 40%. Deciding which devices to charge is a balancing act due to how close you are to finishing and the priority of devices (watch is first priority for tracking/navigation, then headlamp, then phone, then inReach). I also try not to fully charge items so I can keep a reserve in the battery bank.
I plug in my phone, tape my feet, pack up camp, look at my phone and it's only at 58%. Then I look at the battery bank and it's at 0%.
No no no. That makes no sense. A 20,000mah battery bank at 40% should bring my phone to almost 100%, PLUS another FULL charge. This makes no sense.
My brain is so sleep deprived I can't really process this, and standing around won't do anything, so I'm not super concerned. I know I'll figure it out somehow.
I'm excited because today is the day I pass through Reliance, TN. Sort of my "home stretch" point.
I start the section along the Hiawassee River in the dark, which is pretty treacherous. It's steep with lots of drop-offs. My balance is super wonky because my stabilizing muscles are all destroyed.
I finally make it to the easier sections, the sun rises, and I pick up the pace. I pulled out my Garmin inReach Messenger, enabled reverse charging, and charged my watch up to 70%. That made me feel a lot more comfortable. My headlamp is at full charge and will last 31 hours. I can make it to the end with only my watch and headlamp.
I make it to Reliance and I have to duck into Webb Brothers Store. I ask if Theresa is around.
The woman replies, "Nah, she's only here on Sunday and Monday."
I say, "Well, please tell her Bob said hi. She rescued me two years ago when I injured myself."
The woman at the counter replies without even looking up, "Yup, I remember your face. I'll let her know you were in."
I smile and head out.
I leave Reliance and head up Lost Creek. This is one of my favorite sections of trail, it's so beautiful. Out of Lost Creek, up to the plateau where I spend the next few hours before dropping down to Thunder Rock Campground.
This section was a nightmare last year. Tons of blowdowns, all tangles, it took me forever. This year, I flew through it.
I reach Thunder Rock Campground at 4:35pm. I check the public bathroom and there's an outlet. I decide to charge my phone and battery bank for 30 minutes. I'm annoyed that I'm wasting 30 minutes, but I figure it's worth it and could save me more time navigating further down the trail. My phone is only at 40% and that's not going to last the next 48 hours.
I end up staying for 38 minutes.
While I'm sitting there, a guy walks up and asks me where I'm headed. I explain the whole Benton MacKaye Trail. Then he asks when I started. I say Saturday.
He's confused. Tries to do the math.
"You walked 200 miles in 3 and a half days?"
Yup.
"And how much further are you going?"
90 miles.
"How long is that gonna take you?"
Hopefully two days.
"Well that's crazy. You gotta come over to our campsite and tell my wife!"
He wanders away and I sit down because I'm really in no shape to talk to people. I'm in late-afternoon sleep deprivation and not super psyched I'm burning daylight just sitting around. I could be two miles further down the trail.
Finally a woman walks around the corner. With her saying just a few words I can tell she's been drinking margaritas all day.
"My husband told me you're hiking this trail."
Yup.
"Well, you're not going to make your camp by night."
Nope.
"So whatcha gonna do?"
I have a headlamp and walk in the dark.
"You can't do that."
No?
"No. You need to come over to our camp. You want a beer?"
"No, thank you, I'm okay."
"Well, you need some food."
"No, I... uh... there are these rules, uh..."
I don't really feel like explaining the unsupported FKT rules to her.
"I have my own food, I'm all set. I'm just charging my stuff."
"Well, you don't have a home-cooked meal in that bag. You need to come over and I'll make you a home-cooked meal."
"Thank you so much, but I'm really okay. I'm going to get going now. That's really kind of you!"
She finally wanders off shaking her head.
I grab my stuff, head out of the campground, wave to the husband and his buddy who shouts, "Good luck on your record!" and I head back up into the woods.
I remember these sections being forest road, so I'm excited to make some time. I pass the spot I camped last time and it's fully in the daylight. I'm about 6 1/2 hours ahead of where I was last year. I also only made it 40 miles last year.
I'm pushing hard, I want to be a lot further down the trail. I enter Big Frog Wilderness, make the big ascent, and enter Georgia. I yell a big "woohoo" in the darkness.
Lots of blurred memory loss from sleep deprivation in the section. No real hallucinations.
I reach a campsite, almost stop, but decide "Maybe another mile." I keep pushing and make it 2 more miles, find a perfect flat spot, set up my bivy, and crawl in.
It's 12:36am. I set my alarm for 2 1/2 hours because I lost 30 minutes at the campground charging my stuff.
Day 5
Distance - 75.2 mi
Elevation - 17,762 ft
Elapsed Time - 31:16:07
Hours slept previous night - 3 - Snoozed too many times
Hours Slept final night - 10 minute nap at 11pm, 30 minute nap at 3am
My alarm goes off and I have no idea where I am. I'm stuck inside something. I mildly freak out, then realize I'm on the Benton MacKaye FKT inside my bug bivy.
I snooze twice this time, I think, so it ends up being almost 3 hours of sleep anyway.
My body and brain are super tired, sore, my feet are burning. I really don't want to put my shoes on.
Gotta do it, let's go.
Somehow I spent 3 hours, 58 minutes total at that campsite. Not sure how I wasted so much time, but it's the final push.
Make it to the Pinhoti Terminus where I tap the sign. Reached here in November and got the Pinhoti Unsupported FKT!
I'm just trying to make it until daylight when my brain will turn back on. Not much longer.
I reach Flat Top Mountain, which is also one of my least favorite sections. I was SO tired last year I almost fell asleep walking and it was mid-afternoon. I was having severe hallucinations and it was not an enjoyable experience. This year, I felt quite normal.
I made it off the mountain and to the first road section. About a mile down the road, three fighter jets roar overhead a few hundred feet off the ground. That was terrifyingly loud.
I head back into the woods for a short section before popping out into the beautiful vacation neighborhood. I zigzag through this section, past the shelter I stayed at last year and overslept at, across the highway, and back up into the mountains.
I'm ascending Scroggin Knob where I tore my calf this year. My calves are tight, but they feel good. I pass the point and smile.
A guy is coming down the trail and we chat for a bit. He's flagging for the Cruel Jewel. I stop to pop a blister while sitting on a nice piece of wood.
I start following the flags for the Cruel Jewel and (what I thought were) BMT blazes. My watch buzzes to say I'm off course.
What the?!
Everything from here on out is new to me, so I need to double-check all my turns. The Cruel Jewel veers off the BMT here so I took a 1/4-mile wrong turn. Could be worse.
I descend off the mountain and there's a beautiful waterfall. I snap a photo. It's late afternoon so I'm tired, but not exhausted. I'm approaching a 4-mile road walk so I'm excited to make up some time.
As I turn past the waterfall I see some people...
I look closer and I'm perplexed.
That person... is wearing... a witch's hat.
All of a sudden my brain flashes to a Free Outside podcast I listened to the previous day where Jeff Garmire talked about his best hallucinations, and one of them was where everything was witches. All of the trees were witches.
I thought... this must be a hallucination.
I get closer and nope. This 40-ish-year-old dude with a woman and a small child is wearing a witch's (wizard?) hat.
This is magnificent.
I tell them to have a great day and just start laughing.
I hit the road and try to run a little. Make it the three miles, over Iron Bridge, and back up into the woods.
This is really the home stretch now.
Sun sets. It starts to sprinkle rain.
NO NO NO.
I cannot deal with rain on my last night.
I look at the radar and it's a tiny little blob directly over me. It'll be gone in a few minutes.
I hear coyotes to my left. It makes me smile. My final night of wilderness. I do really want this to be over though.
I start stumbling over rocks, tripping, bobbing, and weaving. Is the trail really rocky or am I just incredibly tired?
I make it to 11pm and decide to lie down in the middle of the trail. I take my pack off, lie directly on it, set a timer for 10 minutes. I wake up after 9 minutes with a sore knee because it was on the ground.
Time to move.
I cross a highway around 1am and make it to the other side. All of a sudden I see a headlamp shining back at me.
"Hey."
"Hey."
I mumble something like, "I thought you were one of those things that are, you know... on the trail."
He says, "Like a maintenance worker?"
Me: "No, not a person, one of those shiny things. I can't think of the name. I keep seeing them. You camping?"
(I meant to say the reflective flags for the race. It obviously made zero sense to this guy.)
"No, I'm bike shuttling after a hike. Just locking it up."
I realize he's about 30' into the woods locking his bike to a tree with a chain.
I said, "Oh, awesome! Well, have a fantastic night!" and cruise on.
It made me smile that there are other people out there doing weird stuff in the woods at 1am.
I make it to mile 26 to the finish and I know Ivey (previous unsupported FKT holder) slept at this campsite. I'm about to stop, but something the size of a raccoon/skunk/porcupine/bear cub runs into the brush right next to the trail.
Welp, not gonna lie down here. I'll stop at the next one.
These final 30 miles are ALL along a ridgeline with only springs for water. I'm not paying attention and realize I'm thirsty. In addition, my calories for the final 30 miles are all liquid calories/maltodextrin.
I check FarOut and there was a spring 0.3 mi back at the campsite I blew through. The next water is 4 miles away and down a super steep climb.
Oh well.
I make it to the campsite and I'm beyond tired. I throw my pack down and realize it's directly on an anthill. I move it 6' to the left, lie directly on my pack, set my timer for 20 minutes, take off my glasses and put them on the ground next to me with my phone.
Turn off my headlamp and immediately fall into the deepest sleep.
Timer goes off and I snooze for 10 minutes. Ten minutes later I hop up, throw on my pack and head down an absurd climb to the water. Maybe 400 yards?
I fill up two liters then climb back to the top. When I reach the trail, my vision is all white. This sometimes happens on super early runs when I first start. I think it's a blood pressure thing? I should get that checked out.
I hope that it goes away quickly because I can't really see the trail.
After maybe 5 minutes it does subside.
The sun rises just as I reach the swinging bridge. I cross it - which is terrifying. I climb up and watch the sunrise.
I'm moving as fast as I can.
10 miles, 8 miles, 5 miles.
They're going by quickly, but I know it always feels longer.
I hit the AT, crisscross it a bunch of times. It's so beautiful in this section with the creeks and rhododendron.
I make it to the final ascent, up one climb, then down, then finally up Springer Mountain. It's kind of a blur because I'm trying to move as fast as I can (which is 20-minute miles at this point).
My feet are so sore, blisters on top of blisters, they're bruised beyond description.
I see the Benton MacKaye plaque to my left, it's only a hundred yards. Super rocky, try not to trip.
I see the sign.
Tap it and stop my watch.
Finally.
It took 3 years and 3 attempts, but I did it.
65,000' of vert... climbing and descending Mt. Everest TWICE in 5 days.
I finally did it.
That was by far the hardest FKT yet.
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I've got my routine now... I head out to the parking lot. I hobble to the sign, sit on the ground and take my shoes and socks off. I mumble to myself, just sit there sort of staring into blankness. Dreaming while I'm still awake.
I look to my left and someone is looking back at me.
We start laughing.
He asks, "Bob?"
Yup.
"Ha, I thought that was you."
I didn't even realize he was there.
It's Jordan, my shuttle driver. He knows the whole backstory about the FKT.
I hop in and we start talking. It's nice to talk with someone in person vs. inside your own head. We have some good laughs and he comments he's surprised I'm still awake.
I take that as my cue to pass out, which I promptly do.
I wake up to Jordan saying, "We're here!" and we arrive at the hotel next to the Atlanta airport.
I walk in and I can see on the table in the lobby my two large pizzas, wings, two-liter of Coke, and brownies.
My wife Lara has a routine of placing that order for me after each FKT and makes sure it's waiting at the hotel when I arrive.
She's amazing.
I take my pizza upstairs to my room, fill the tub, and start eating the pizza in the bathtub.
It feels so good.