Gale-force winds, heavy rain, heavy rain mixed with snow, snow, swollen mountain streams, hiking barefoot for a quarter mile, wild boars. Sunshine.

Crazy day on the trail. My weather-challenged week of backpacking continues.

Back in the planning stage of this trip to the Smokies, with maps spread on the family room floor, guidebooks at the ready, an amber beverage within reach, the plan for today was to do a 13-mile loop in the Deep Creek area. That hike got bumped to Tuesday, because my plan for Monday – backpack 4.1 miles in to campsite No. 64 to set up an 8-mile climb to Clingman’s Dome – got rained out. Tuesday turned out gorgeous, so I did Deep Creek. But the rain – and high winds – returned Wednesday, so I was looking for another long day hike (as opposed to a wet backpack in). The 10-mile Naked Ground hike in the Joyce Kilmer Slickrock Wilderness seemed a good fit until I got to the trailhead and discovered the creek across which the trail crosses several times was swollen to impassable levels. So I drove north to an old favorite, the 12-mile Shuckstack/Lost Cove/Lakeshore Trail. Part of my thinking: a hike in the well-tended Smokies would be safer, in iffy weather, than one in a Forest Service wilderness.

In fact, it’s hard to be too safe when you encounter heavy rain, gale-force winds, an icy rain and snow, atop 4,020-foot Shuckstack. And that was just on the first third of the hike.

But, as they say in mountainous areas hosting numerous microclimates, if you don’t like the weather, just cross over a ridge. Moments after leaving the 3.7-mile climb up to Shuckstack, exposed to the wild weather moving up from the south, and dropping down Lost Cove Trail, protected by Shuckstack Ridge and descending east, the weather did indeed change. An eerie quiet replaced the wind, the snow turned back into rain (a lot less of it), and the temperature seemed to rise 10 degrees.

Which isn’t to say the fun part of this day was over.

A couple miles down Lost Cove the trail meets its namesake creek. It’s an amiable relationship at first, with three crossings easily accomplished by hopping rocks. But with the creek gaining reinforcement, crossing four’s rock bridge was submerged. Off with the boots, up with the pant legs. Fortunately, the creek wasn’t icy cold. Just very cold.

Back on went the boots and down the trail I – rats! Twenty yards down the trail, around a bend, another crossing. And another about 20 yards after that. I kept the boots off for a quarter mile and another four crossings, before Lost Cove met with the higher, drier Lakeshore Trail.

Higher, drier and – what the heck are those? With a mile to go, I rounded a bend and stopped dead in my tracks. Twenty yards up were two large black critters on the trail, a third down the draw they were foraging in. This being the Smokies, I assumed they were bears. Then I heard one snort: wild boars.

Wild boars, wild boars … I knew what to do with a black bear (hold your ground, avoid eye contact), I knew what to do with a mountain lion (try to look as big as possible, try not to wet your pants). But I had no wild boar plan. Turns out you don’t need one; once they get wind of you, they skedaddle.

And then, something really unexpected happened on this day of wild weather, wild game, wet feet: the sun came out.

Crazy day.