Walking in the Rain

I left Marion Virginia on the morning of April 21, but not as early as I had hoped. The city's shuttle bus forgot to pick me up at the motel, even though I had called to confirm. I had to wait two more hours until the next run up to the Mount Rogers Visitors Center and didn't get on the trail until after 11:00 AM. The bus was only 50 cents, so I really couldn't complain. I ended up hiking into the evening to make up time, camping near a stream.

It rained heavily part of the night and my tent was soaked the next morning (outside only thankfully). I partially dried it, packed it away, and hit the trail. Within an hour it began raining heavily again, with the rain lasting much of the day. The temperature was in the low 50's.

When doing research on hiking the trail I realized that there was no way to stay completely dry while hiking in the rain. So-called waterproof footwear and waterproof/breathable clothing would eventually fail, either through direct water entry or through moisture from your own body being trapped inside. You really only have two choices: Hunker down in a tent or shelter, or accept being wet. I decided before hiking the trail that I would do the latter. As long as you keep hypothermia at bay, it's not that bad.

My hiking shoes and socks were completely soaked most of the day, as were my pants. I got rid of my rain pants a few days earlier, sending them home when the weather got a little warmer. I didn't miss them. My core stayed warm enough and relatively dry. When the rain ended my nylon pants were dry within the hour and my shoes within about two hours.

There were some people hunkered down in tents and shelters that day, but equally as many walking in the rain.  As one guy who passed me said smilingly, "You can't stop it, so you might as well just embrace it." Good attitude.

I had a rain cover for my pack, but water still managed to get through. As long as you keep things that have to stay dry in dry bags or zip locks it's not a big deal.

I ended up walking 102 miles from Thursday the 21st to the morning of Monday the 25th. I'm writing this in Pearisburg, VA, where I spent Monday night. Late Sunday afternoon as I was about 10 miles from Pearisburg, a female grouse befriended me. I really don't know how else to describe it. She approached me as I was hiking along and then proceeded to follow me for several hundred yards. I stopped for 20 minutes and watched in fascination as she slowly walked in circles around me the entire time, always staying between 6 and 15 feet from me, nibbling on shrubs and chirping quietly.

Temporary trail buddy.

I left when the sun started going down and she stopped following me. I've come across game birds a number of times, but they usually flee in fear when they detect you. I'm not sure what was up with this one.

Hills

I left Damascus on the morning of April 17th. The weather was warm and sunny and I left with a full stomach. I had second thoughts about opting for breakfast at Crazy Larry's though. The blueberry pancakes that he had promised his guests the night before were not appetizing in the least. I think they were fake blueberries, and the pancakes had the consistency of partially cured concrete. Yuck. It turns out Larry was an experienced cook (among other occupations). However, his cooking experience consisted of Denny's and jail kitchens. Larry had been incarcerated a time or two, but he's now straightened out his life. I'm not holding his past against him, but the guy is a lousy cook. Other than breakfast, I thoroughly enjoyed my stay at Crazy Larry's.

For the first half of the day the trail paralleled (and sometimes ran simultaneously with) the Virginia Creeper (VC) Trail. The VC trail is enormously popular and brings a lot of bicycle tourists into Damascus. It is 30 miles long and occupies the right-of-way of an old narrow gauge railway built by a lumber company to bring timber down from the mountains in the first half of the 20th century. The trail runs almost entirely downhill from near Mount Rogers (Virginia's highest mountain) to Damascus. It runs through stunningly beautiful country, paralleling a large trout-filled stream most of the way.

Multiple businesses in Damascus cater to those who are driven up to the top of the VC trail, along with their own, or rented, bicycles. The customers then coast, and occasionally pedal, the 30 miles to Damascus. I must have seen at least 50 of those bicyclists on just a few miles of trail where the AT and the VC coincided. It looked like fun, but should not be confused with even moderate outdoor activity (except for the one or two hardy people I saw biking uphill). Any couch potato could participate; it was almost a little awkward to be passed by an overweight coaster going downhill while I was trudging uphill with my pack. I was glad when the trails diverged and I was back with only the hikers.

In the afternoon I came across some deer and a few wild turkeys. One enormous turkey was walking confidently down the trail in front of me. I tried to sneak up on him and snap a picture, but he detected me just as I was getting my smartphone out and darted into the brush. I decided to keep hiking until I got over Mount Rogers, since I was feeling good. That meant hiking at night again, which I enjoyed. Besides, I was carrying spare batteries for my headlamp. I ended up walking until after midnight, passing through the Virginia Highlands wild pony refuge after Mount Rogers. The ponies weren't really that wild. I came upon a bunch of them around midnight, being able to see them quite clearly even without my headlamp since the sky was clear and the moon was bright. They let me approach quite closely while they were loudly and intensely munching on grass. A few seemed enormously fat, as if they were soon to give birth to a foal.

Soon after I passed the "wild" ponies I walked crossed a large stream and was astonished at how cold the air was. While I was at a lower altitude than Mount Rogers and the pony refuge, the temperature seemed almost 20 degrees colder. This is a phenomenon that campers and outdoorsmen are familiar with. In cool weather it is not a good idea to camp near a stream; it will almost certainly be colder than the surrounding higher ground. Moreover, you are much more likely to have condensation inside your tent when camped near water.

I found a great camping spot in a grassy area around 1:00 AM. It wasn't until the next morning that I realized I was in a no camping zone when I passed a fence and sign. It probably won't be the last time I do some illegal camping before I finish the trail.

The next day (Monday the 18th) was another long day, but not quite as long. There were a lot of hills, and some unexpected "trail magic" at lunch time. An older hiker named John from the local area showed up at a road crossing with his pickup truck and goodies. He had burgers and chicken sandwiches from McDonalds, as well as beer, soda and candy bars. I had a grilled chicken sandwich and a lager and it was delicious. Three young women from Georgia, recent college grads who were thru-hiking, were there also. Guys like John are not uncommon on the trail. They know how tough the hike is and are more than willing to spread a little goodwill and chat with hikers. Also greatly appreciated are the volunteer trail maintenance people who lug chainsaws miles into the wilderness to clear dead fall trees from the trail. I had come across a few of those crews already, and another that afternoon. I always make a point to thank them for what they are doing.

I ended up camping about 4 miles from a state park visitors' center where I could get a ride into Marion, VA, where I planned to stay Tuesday and Wednesday night. My body was sore and I really needed a true "zero day" to rest my bones and clean/repair/resupply.

I arrived at the visitors' center before noon. A public transit bus from nearby Marion (about 5 1/2 miles away) was due to come by at 2:15. Since it was downhill to town I decided to walk instead of wait, being too proud and/or cautious to hitchhike. After three or four miles I was no longer too proud or cautious, so when an older guy pulled out of a side dirt road and offered me a ride the rest of the way into town I gladly accepted.

Marion is a nice town. It's not wealthy, and it's sad to see the three or four payday loan / title loan businesses coexisting with a few empty storefronts, but the people are friendly. Unlike Tennessee, Marion has plentiful sidewalks as well. Two blocks from the Econo-Lodge where I am staying is a Walmart. It seems trite, but after several bags of poor substitutes I was thrilled to buy a big bag of Walmart's house brand "Great Value" mountain trail mix, the gold standard as far as I am concerned. Yum, yum.

Mischievous Bears

I just finished two and a half days on the trail and am checked into Crazy Larry's Hostel in Damascus, VA. $23 for a tent spot in the backyard (nice lawn) a hot shower, a load of laundry, and breakfast tomorrow morning. Not bad. He's not crazy, but actually a pretty nice guy. I crossed the TN/VA border last night after dark and then found a campsite.

A long day on the trail yesterday made for a short one today as I only had a three mile walk into Damascus, a very hiker-friendly town. Being the 16th of April, my journey from the start of the trail to Damascus took exactly one month, which is considered fast. A typical through hiker will take 40 days to walk that stretch.

Two days ago, after I started out from Hampton, TN, I came across a shelter with a big note on it describing how two bears had torn up several tents looking for food. One of them then violently shook the "bear proof" pole where people had hung their food bags, successfully dislodging two of them. That shelter was closed during 2014 and 2015 because of bears. They might have to close it again. I later ran into one of the guys who had his food stolen and offered him some. Other hikers had already given him enough to get to Damascus though.

The shelter the bears can't seem to get enough of....

It was a nice two-day hike and I met a few new people. I've met a lot of people from Michigan for some reason, including a guy yesterday who had injured his knee and was limping. I donated my elastic bandage to him. I walked on the trail for a while with a young guy from New Hampshire who was hiking the trail before starting a master's program in the fall to become a physician's assistant. I just met a guy at the hostel who just got out of the Air Force after being stationed in Montana for three years. He loved Montana but not the Air Force. Some people take to the military more readily than others I suppose.

That's it for now. My laundry is almost done and then I'll head out for a "real" meal. I'll be in Virginia for about the next 500 miles.

Eyes at Night

This post covers April 9-13. April 9th was my "zero day" in Erwin. A nice enough town, but not very pedestrian friendly. You realize when on foot that sidewalks aren't a given in many towns along the trail. They exist sporadically, but don't seem at all to be a priority. Anyway, while in Erwin I got a nice military haircut to go with my clean-shaven look. I also bought a replacement pair of orthotic insoles for my hiking shoes from Rite-Aid. These new insoles have proven to be nothing short of miraculous. My foot pain and knee pain completely disappeared soon after I started hiking with them. It's been three days and I'm a true believer on Pro-Foot insoles. I ate lunch on Saturday at the KFC buffet. In the non-hiking world Jackie and I never partake in all-you-can eat buffets, but now I understand their appeal. I indulged.

Sunday the 10th was a long strenuous day, starting at about 1600 feet and climbing to about 5200 feet over 14 miles, ending in a dense spruce forest with ice and snow on the ground. I pushed on for another 11 miles for one of my longest days yet, using a headlamp for the last few miles. After dark, I glanced to the side of the trail and my headlamp reflected brightly on a pair of eyes about 50 feet away, staring at me. Then I saw a second set of eyes. I roared loudly, just in case they were bears. I saw movement from side to side, and then four sets of glowing eyes. I yelled again; the eyes kept staring at me, so I moved on. It was much too dark to make out what they were. They could have been raccoons, foxes, bears, or some other animal. A mile later I noticed two more sets of eyes glowing at me. There was a lot of nocturnal wildlife in that section if the woods that night.

The next day, Monday the 11th, more uphill was in order. I hiked up to Roan Mountain at 6200 feet, the last time I would be over 6000 feet on the trail. On the way up I was passed by a guy going in the opposite direction. He had a foot long beard and his trail name was the Hiking Viking. He started his southbound thru hike in Maine in January, tackling Maine, New Hampshire, and Vermont in winter. That's some seriously crazy mountain man stuff.

One way of funneling water into your squeeze filter.

Tuesday the 12th was forecast for rain, so it was no surprise when it came. It started raining at night, so in the morning I packed up my wet tent, threw on my rain gear and walked in the cold rain. The muddy trail was very slick; even though I had trekking poles for balance and support I still managed to slip and get mud all over me. Fortunately, after hiking for about three hours the rain let up. The rest of the day made for fine hiking. I passed an old family cemetery (still in use) near a mountain top in the middle of nowhere. I took a few pictures there.

Tennessee is frustrating because it has several sections where you must hike in a southerly direction for a while before resuming northward. I had another one of those sections on Tuesday.

I hiked for over 25 miles on Tuesday with the intention of camping fairly close to Hampton, TN, my next stop. I had a box of food and a new tent waiting for me at the Hampton, Post Office, and I also wanted to send my old tent to Jackie, so I wanted to get there well before closing time at 4:00 PM. I ended up camping only about five miles from Hampton.

Wednesday the 13th was a short, but beautiful hike, often paralleling the stunningly scenic Laurel Creek, with canyons and waterfalls. It was perhaps the the most scenic section of trail to date. I took care of my Post Office business after arriving in town via a one mile side trail and then proceeded to the Braemar Castle Hostel, located in an enormous old 1909 stone building. The proprietor and his wife live in one half and the other half houses the hostel. That's where I'm writing this.

Laurel Falls on April 13, 2016.

Braemar Castle Hostel.

Hampton is a nice enough town, but again, strangely devoid of sidewalks. Maybe it's a Tennessee thing. Anyway, Virginia beckons. I just checked my guide book and I'm only 50 miles from Damascus. I'll arrive on Saturday the 16th, a month after leaving Springer Mountain, GA on March 17th. I'm making very good time.

Winter or Spring?

On Tuesday, April 5th, I left Hot Springs by crossing over the French Broad River, named such in the 18th century because it eventually flowed into what was then French territory. A steep climb led up to cliffs overlooking the river and town, so I took a few photos.

My next stop would be Erwin, TN, 70 miles away. I spent three nights on the trail in sometimes challenging conditions. There were a few miles of extraordinarily rocky and difficult trail on a windy ridge when the temperature was plummeting. I bundled up with all of my outerwear, and when I was off of the ridge I noticed that my water bottles had started to freeze.

Despite winter weather sometimes clinging to the higher altitudes, it was great to see spring slowly moving in lower down. Small, white wildflowers were blooming by the thousands, peaking through the dead, brown leaves which remained from the fall. All kinds of small green plants were also starting to cover the forest floor, which was a sullen brown just a few weeks earlier. Most of the deciduous trees were still grey and lifeless, but a few were beginning to grow new leaves.

Spring begins.

It's tough to get out of a warm sleeping bag on a cold morning. It's something that I've never enjoyed, but a hot cup of tea certainly helps. A cold morning is better than a wet, cold morning though. On the second night my tent was pummeled by strong rain and wind and I had to pack it up wet. It was cool and cloudy to dry it out before hitting the trail.

Thursday was very windy and cool almost all day long. There was intermittent hail and rain during the day also. I walked up and over a few large grassy "balds," as they call hilltops that are devoid of trees here. The wind was particularly intense up there. Although quite scenic, reminding me of the Scottish Highlands, I couldn't wait to get back to the relative comfort of the trees.

I passed no northbound hikers that day, and none passed me. That was a first since I began hiking the trail. When it started to get dark I decided to stop at the last shelter before Erwin, TN. I was quite surprised to find that it was unoccupied, except for a mouse who greeted me up in the rafters, casually checking me out. Ten minutes after I arrived at the shelter an enormous thunder and lightning storm erupted, lasting for perhaps 30 minutes and bringing marble sized hail with it. It was nice to be in a shelter instead of a tent at that point.

I put a half Snickers bar up in the rafters, away from my sleeping spot, in the hope that it would keep the mouse occupied and away from me and my stuff while I slept. I think it worked; just before going to sleep I shone my headlamp up into the corner of the shelter and saw the chubby mouse standing on its hind legs nibbling away on the Snickers bar. The light didn't concern the mouse at all, and he never bothered me.

Nolichucky River near Erwin, TN.

The next morning a German guy came by as I was packing up, telling me about his ordeal riding out the storm in his tent a few miles back. I was glad to have spent the night in the shelter, at least that night.

In general though, the shelters and immediately surrounding tent areas strike me as unsanitary and I don't like them. The authorities who control the wilderness areas that the AT runs through prefer that camping be concentrated in such areas, so as to limit human impact on other areas. I do not like it at all, and am an advocate for greater dispersal. Fortunately, only Great Smoky Mountain National Park and the White Mountains in New Hampshire mandate concentrated camping.

A constant thought: I'll be glad when Spring arrives for good.

Not quite spring yet!

Four More Days

This post encompasses April 1st through April 4th.

I caught a ride from Gatlinburg, where I had stayed at a surprisingly nice Motel 6 overlooking a river, back to the trailhead at Newtown Gap. I started hiking at around mid- morning, and the first few miles were packed with day hikers. The first four miles were all uphill and it took quite a while to get up to elevation. By the time I did it was quite cold and windy, so I hiked for the rest of the day with my hat, gloves and down jacket. Great Smoky Mountain National Park was absolutely beautiful; I just loved the pines and hemlocks everywhere.

Hence the name.

I stopped that night at a shelter about 10 miles in, at mile 217. This would be the shortest day so far. I met some interesting people there, including a Canadian, a German, and Bob from Texas who has hired two U-Haul trucks in the last two years to help his now out-of-college children move their things from his house to their apartments. We had a little chat about that!

Tree tunnel.

The next morning (Saturday, April 2nd) was cold and damp, so I again bundled up, packing my tent and sleeping bag while both were a little wet. The sun shone sporadically through the day, and I eventually shed the down jacket. Again, the scenery was stunning. I recall thinking that this was the most beautiful day on the trail yet. Backpackers are very disciplined, and rarely leave trash along the trail, so it was jarring to see a break from the natural world when the metal remains of a decades old plane crash could be seen strewn beside the trail, just under the peak of Mt Guyot. I suppose it's a memorial now.

I had intended to hike out of the park that day, but it would have been a 20+ mile hike. With all of the elevation gain and loss it would have been a chore. I decided to stop just within the northern boundary of the Park after completing 19 miles. I stopped at a shelter inhabited by three other guys: The Guy Who Talked Too Much, The Guy Who Barely Talked, and The Guy Who Didn't Talk At All because he was asleep the entire time I was there. I decided to sleep in the shelter and not my tent, and I didn't even tell them I snored. The next morning, neither Talks Too Much nor Barely Talks said a word about my snoring. Hmm......, maybe I'll try that again.

On Sunday the 3rd, I had a long down hill for a few miles before I exited the Park, then a lot of uphill for about five and a half miles. Later in the afternoon, at Brown Gap, I was surprised by some "trail magic" - that's when someone, or some group of people, hang out out at a road crossing and give food to hikers. It's a tradition on the AT. In this case, a guy from Texas had chairs, tables, hot dogs, chips, brownies, soda, etc., etc. It turns out that he, his wife, and his 5 children had all thru-hiked the AT last year and wanted to repay the random acts of kindness they had received. His trail name was Bumblebee and he's a chemical engineer and Texas A&M grad. You'd have to be an engineer to figure out the logistics of doing a thru-hike with a family of 7.  It took them over 6 months.

After Bumblebee's feast of sorts, I climbed up to "Max Patch," a treeless mountain top area (many acres of grass) that's quite a tourist attraction around these parts. You can park near the summit and walk a few hundred yards to get some spectacular views. Max is actually a homophone of Mack's. Mack ran some cattle up there back in the day.

Max Patch.

From what people tell me, much of what is wooded in the Appalachians used to be devoid of trees. Settlers cut them down for many reasons, including running a herds of cattle, apparently. You can still plainly see evidence of these mountains being used for thongs other than recreation and preservation. Remnants of old roads and fences are everywhere.

I hiked almost 24 miles on Sunday, into the evening, until I found a perfect tent spot near a small creek. I awoke Monday with only 13 miles to go before arriving at Hot Springs, NC, a small, but charming town. The AT runs down the sidewalk of it's main street. I'm staying at the Laughing Heart Lodge, located about 50 yards from the trail.

Oh yeah, I ran into The Guy Who Barely Talked a few times. He's OK, he didn't talk much at the shelter because The Guy Who Talked Too Much was driving him crazy. I can understand that, since The Guy Who Talked Too Much was a telemarketing trainer. That's one notch below (or maybe above?) car sales supervisor. Anyway, I got along fine with both of them. You can't be too choosy about who you randomly meet in the woods.

Forest floor, turning green.

The knee still acts up. I as passed today by a woman who appeared to be around 30, who said she thru-hiked the trail 10 years ago, but isn't as fast as she used to be because of a knee problem. She was certainly faster than me. The knee pain comes and goes; I have a feeling it will accompany me to Mt. Katahdin.