It was sad to say bye to my wife again for another month as I was dropped off on the AT just north of Atkins, VA. It was a beautiful cool day under bright blue skies as I headed north through a hillside pasture before once again entering the woods. I just had under 13 miles to the next shelter that day, so I took my time, taking lots of breaks to enjoy the trail. It was a little bit of a sad and lonely day this Friday, with Becky leaving and knowing my mom back home in Tulsa was in the hospital again. I only saw one hiker that day, Old School, a thru-hiker from New York I’d passed a few days ago. He was slack packing southbound that day.

I was in at Knot Maul shelter at 3:00, and was tempted to go further. It was 9 miles to the next shelter though, and I was determined to take it easy on my feet and not wear myself out so much. So after getting my pack unpacked and laying out my sleeping bag, I actually took a nap!  Now that’s a first! After re-planning the next few weeks of my hike to allow for a little less miles per day and eating dinner, I just relaxed by the shelter.

At about 6:45, a lone hiker with a full beard and single wooden hiking stick pulled up from the south. Ron was a local guy, maybe a little younger than I (as most are), who was out on a weekend section hike. It was great to have good company, as he was a fascinating guy with a lot of good information on the AT and backpacking in general. Ron has a computer consulting company, is a part-time preacher at a small church in Virginia, just one mile from the North Carolina border, and he farms a little also.

Later that evening, three young thru-hikers rolled in looking tired. We visited briefly about the water there and I asked when they started from Georgia, as I always do. They responded in early May. So when I told them I started on May 28th, they all had this exasperated look on their face like, how do you do that, old man? I must have passed them last week somewhere not knowing it. They were still asleep the next morning as I left the shelter a little after 7:00, and I’m sure they’ll be eating my dust hereafter.

Ron the preacher, farmer, and computer consultant left Knot Maul before the sun came up, not even eating breakfast. I have to eat, as I’m not going to loose weight as I’d done earlier. The day started cool, but quickly warmed under blue skies again. The cooler weather we had enjoyed this past week was giving way to hot temperatures again, making the afternoon hiking more strenuous.  I crossed on of the last big balds I’ll see, Chestnut Knob, with great views into Virginia and back to Tennessee and North Carolina.

The guide book showed much of this section to the northeast much flatter, after a few moderate climbs. But as often is the case, the average may be flat, but it was constant small climbs and dips, over rocks, with lots of turns. My hike this day was 19 miles by the guidebook, but it seemed that Jenkins Shelter would never get here. I was out of water, getting hot and tired, as I finally made it to the shelter at about 5:45. Ron, my new trail-mate, had just pulled in also, visiting with a section hiker named Bruce, a teacher from Raleigh. After another dinner of freeze-dried spaghetti and cheesecake for dessert, I hit the sack early.

Ron again took off a little earlier than I, but after catching up, we hiked the 11 miles or so to the highway leading to Bland, VA. The trail looked exactly on paper like the section yesterday, but it was entirely different. Gradual and moderate climbs and dips, no rocks, with smooth wide paths of leaves, needles, or dirt. We cruised down easily, to be greeted with some trail magic about 1/2 mile from the end. There on the trail was a plastic bag full if iced cold Cokes and Mountain Dew. They had been left that morning, as the ice was not even melted. Probably someone on their way to church on this Sunday morning, wanting to do a little trail magic, which I hear in these parts just may get you into heaven!

Ron and I caught a ride into Bland with the first thumb I put up, and walked a few blocks up to the Dairy Queen which is on I-77 exit at Bland. Eating a big cheeseburger, fries, Mountain Dew, and a big Blizzard sure tastes great after a few days of granola bars, Gatorade, and trail food.

After telling Ron goodbye, I checked into the Big Walker Motel, your typical old motel off the interstate in a small town. My adjusted schedule called for me to go 23 miles this day, after 19 yesterday, with another 20.5 the following day to take it to Woods Hole Hostel. My right leg was getting sore though in a tendon behind my knee, causing me to slow down on downhill or level sections. The weather was getting hot again. So I altered my schedule to take this light day and rest my leg, shower, do laundry in the motel bathtub, and yes– eat three great meals at the DQ and Subway there at the Bland exit. I also needed to charge up all my electronics, as they were about out of juice. So I decided to break up my two hard days into three lighter days, and give up my planned zero day coming up this week in Pearsburgh and still be on schedule. Normally, I would press on, but I’m forcing myself to go slower, listen to my body, and be flexible enough change my plans if needed. I feel my strength coming back with the weight I’ve put back on, so I must keep that up, and not allow any other body parts to get out of whack. My boots are helping my feet feel much better, with very little pain now. That has really helped a bunch!

I was surprised to see Daniel, the young thru-hiker from Georgia Tech, at the Big Walker when I pulled in. He had spent the night there, as he was getting tired and felt sick, and his boots were wearing out. He seemed discouraged, so that night I bought his dinner at the Dairy Queen down the road. I had time that afternoon to do my laundry in the bathtub, hanging my clothes out on the sunny balcony to dry off. It was the first 4th of July I can remember without seeing or hearing a single firework go off, as I spent a quiet, relaxing evening at the Big Walker, surfing the TV channels with the remote. I was hoping to see my Cardinals play baseball on Sunday night baseball, but was not that lucky, as the Angels were blowing out the Royals that night.

Bruce, Daniel, and I had agreed to meet at the Subway down the road at 7:15 to eat breakfast, and then catch a ride for the four miles back up to the AT trail-head. After knocking on Daniel’s door, it appeared he was sleeping in again, so we went ahead and left. We were on the trail by 8:00, with the goal of about 20 miles to camp somewhere in the woods, making the next day an easier 12 miles to the next hostel.

The day started out fairly mild, as they often do, but the heat started building quickly again. I was hiking at a faster pace than Bruce, so I headed on up, making great time by covering 10 miles to reach Jenny Knob Shelter at 12:30. I set my pack down at the table, got my two water bottles, and proceeded to follow the blue blazed trail leading to the spring for water. I was completely out of water, thirsty, and was going to take a quick break in the cool of the shelter before heading on out.

The creek was bone dry. I proceeded up stream, hiking over rocks, to try to find a little spring or pocket of water. There was nothing. So I followed the dry creek down, hoping to find an active spring with cool water coming out. Nothing still. The next water source according to the guide book was about 8 miles away, so I had to find water here, or I would be in trouble.  Still following the dry creek bed, it turned back north somewhat, and eventually I found another dry creek bed coming in from up higher. I proceeded to then follow it down until there at last, was a little pocket of somewhat clear, cold water.

It really wasn’t running much, but it was cold, which was a good sign. It smelled a little funny though, as was somewhat stagnant, so I had plans on boiling it before drinking it, rather than using the purification tablets I usually use. After getting a full 2 liters, I proceeded to head up the hill somewhat Southeast, which is the direction I felt the shelter was.  I normally have a pretty good sense of directions, but as I kept going uphill, I did not see any sign of a shelter.  I then re-traced my steps, and went up again to where the shelter should be, but all I could see was woods, rocks, bushes, and more woods. I zigged, and zagged, went up to a high knob to see further, all to no avail. After about 45 minutes of wandering in the woods, I was officially lost! I had heard stories about people getting lost in the woods and just meandering till they die, and I thought, that can’t be me!  I hollered out a few times, thinking that Bruce, Daniel, or some other hikers may have made it down to Jenny Knob Shelter, but all I could hear was the sounds of the woods.

So still carrying the two water bottles, full of water that I could not drink yet, I decided to just head uphill until I eventually hit the AT, and then find my way back to Jenny Knob. I climbed and climbed, thinking surely I did not wander this far in my search for water. After about 15 minutes of climbing through the brush and woods, I finally reached the thoroughfare of the AT. Now, I had to decide should I go north or south, to reach the blue blaze trail going down to the shelter.  My hunch was I had wandered too far south, so I headed up the trail north.

After hiking about 1/4th of a mile, I did not reach the trail to the shelter, so I decided that maybe I wandered the other way.  So I went back to where I had caught the AT, and proceeded another 1/4th mile south. No shelter. So I turned around, went back north, this time about 1/2 mile.  Still, no blue blaze trail to the shelter. By this time, I was getting a little mad and frustrated. I was thirsty and hot, but the water bottles were of no use. I did not want to drink the water, and take a chance on getting sick. I reversed directions and went back north.  You would think that I would recogniz e the trail I had been on, but woods is woods. After almost six weeks of hiking, it all begins to look the same. I finally reached some dry creeks going north that I somewhat remembered crossing a few hours ago now, after wandering for several hours. I finally reached the sign pointing to the blue blazed trail leading to Jenny Knob, a full two and a half hours after going to get water.  Bruce was there, wondering where I was. He had not found any water, but lucky him, the great great great grandson of Zebulon Pike was there to save the day for him, as I had found water! I had also gotten lost,  and wandered the woods, wasting over two hours and a lot of energy in the process.

So after boiling my precious water, letting it cool somewhat, I proceeded up the trail to my destination. By now it was really hot, and drinking water that was about 160 degrees did not exactly quench my thirst. By about 5:45, we made it down to a large creek that actually had water in it.  I was ahead of Bruce, so I stripped down to my shorts, and took a cooling swim in the creek. That really refreshed me, as we crossed the suspension bridge over to the road. A southbound hiker we had just met told us about a store about half a mile up the road, which was not in my guidebook. Real food and cold drinks sounded really good after a long hot day, so we hiked up the road, not having any luck with hitch-hiking.

At Trent’s Store, I gulped down a big cold Coke, which is what I crave while on the trail for some reason. Had to get some ice cream also, and the cheeseburgers she was cooking sounded a lot better than freeze-dried whatever, so I had a burger and fries also, along with a big root beer. I was energized now, so after hitching a ride back to the trail-head, proceeded to go about two miles or so to find a camping place in the woods.

The lowering of the sun had allowed the woods to cool somewhat, so it was better to hike in the evening. I found a nice Rhododendron patch and made my campsite in the shade of the plants. I ate my second dinner of freeze-dried something, as darkness settled into the forest.

I slept pretty good, except for being awakened in the middle of the night to what sounded like a big animal breathing off in the woods. Ron, my trail-mate from a few days ago, had assured me that bears were rare in Virginia, but whatever it was, it was bigger than a rabbit or a squirrel. I shined my light off to where the sound was coming from, and must have scared it, as the sounds disappeared.

I was off early the next day, hitting the trail at 7:00 in the morning. It was only 12 miles to Woods Hole Hostel, so I was looking forward spending some relaxing time there. It looked like a good hostel on the information I’d read. It was a good day of hiking, reaching Woods Hole at about 1:30 or so. Neville and Michael greeted me, and fixed me a pizza for lunch, along with two ice cold Cokes. Neville’s grandparents had started Woods Hole in the early 80’s, and after the of Neville’s grandmother, she and Michael decided to run it again, adding a bed and breakfast to the hostel operation. The original log cabin was constructed in 1880, with some additions and renovations being done over the years.  It was a somewhat rustic, but modern and quaint place, with a lot of character and charm.  I enjoyed a room upstairs rather than the hostel. Neville fixed a great dinner for three of us hikers that evening, much of it grown from their garden and homemade.

We enjoyed a great breakfast again the next morning, before hitting the trail again at 9:00. I had a somewhat moderate hike this day down to Pearsburgh, where I would stay at the Holiday Motor Lodge, do laundry, get a haircut, relax, and wait for my re-supply package from home. Today, with the somewhat more moderate schedule, all the food I’ve been eating, and with improving feet, I felt as good as I’ve felt since I started.  It’s hot, but I can deal with that.  I got to talk by phone last week with my son, Jake, who is a Marine serving in Afghanistan.  I had not spoken with him for a month, so it was great to hear his voice.  He told me, among other things, that the temperature was 132 degrees the previous day where they are. It’s all relative isn’t it?  I’ll take hiking the AT in America in the mid-90’s any day, compared to hiking in Afghanistan carrying all the gear our Marines carry, dodging IED’s and Taliban bullets all the time. Pray for them, as what they are doing every day, allows us to enjoy what we do as Americans every day.

I’ve got five hard days before hitting Troutville, VA, for my next zero day. I’ll need the off day by then, as I’ve learned the importance of pacing myself, and allowing my body to rest and recuperate. I’m thankful for the support I have from home, and for the continued donations to our charities. It’s been a great experience, but one that has been much more meaningful to me in that I’m doing it not just for myself, but for others. That continues to motivate me as I pound the trail going north.  Nobody has passed me still by the way, even though I’m not trying to make this into a competition, as I continue to pass thru-hikers and section hikers on their way north. If I can just keep from getting lost, I think I’ll make it to Harper’s Ferry for my halftime just fine.

I am going north now aren’t I?

 

This entry was posted on Wednesday, July 7th, 2010 at 8:32 pm and is filed under AT2010, Afganistan, Appalachian Trail, Marines. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.