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.