Date: 2009-05-08
From: Jenny Knob Shelter

To: Woods Hole Hostel
Miles today: 20.4
Weather: overcast clouds

Mischa is an earlier riser than I am, so he was nearly ready to leave when I got up around 7. I had a quiet morning to myself and headed out with the thought that I could get a hamburger in 6 miles (even though I really didn't need it!). After climbing yet another Brushy Mountain and finally crossing a neat suspension bridge over Kimberling Creek, I reached the road that Trent's Grocery was on. For some reason, I thought the store was very close to the trail. Upon looking at my guidebook again, I discovered that it was actually nearly a half mile away. Disappointed and hungry, I pulled out a peanut butter power bar, crossed the street, and started up the trail on the other side. I figured the burger was not worth nearly a mile's time. However, it was hard to feel satisfied with my power bar after having the idea of a hamburger in my head for 2 hours. I turned around and started walking down the street, justifying my action by not wanting to miss a possible institution on the trail, and feeling that I could minimize the loss of time with a quick stop. The place was not what I had imagined. It was more of a truck stop than a grocery store or eatery. I was not welcomed or spoken to when I stepped inside. I looked at the menu and decided I would order a grilled chicken sandwich. There were two men, who seemed to be employees, standing at the counter chatting, but the woman was the only one doing any work. I perused the beverages in the refrigerated section and decided upon a root beer in a glass bottle, as it was something different. Then I scoped out the location of the restroom. It was locked. I asked the woman if I could use it and she handed me the key. After using it, I could not get the toilet to flush at all! As I handed the key back, I let one of the men know. "That's why we keep it locked!" was his reply. I regretted making the extra trip down to this store. After finishing my sandwich and soda, I bought two candy bars and a bottle of water, packed up, and headed out.   My next destination was Dismal Creek Falls, followed by the infamous Wapiti shelter, where two hikers were murdered and buried underneath in 1981. The murderer was released from prison last year, soon after returned to the same shelter, and shot two fishermen in the face and neck last spring. That section of the AT was then blocked off for several days. I felt very unsettled in this area, especially being alone. The sidepath to Dismal Falls was long, and leafy, and I could not help from wondering who might be hiding in the bushes, waiting to get me. Who would ever know, as I wasn't even on the main path of the AT. As the path continued with no falls in sight, I realized there was no need to carry my pack all the way down to the falls. I dropped it off on the side of the trail and hoped no one would take it. When I finally got to the water, I was not very impressed with the site. However, it got prettier and more impressive the closer I got. There were pools of water on rock ledges and strong currents rushing over drops. I really started enjoying my time there and wished that I had chosen to eat lunch out of my pack there, rather than take all of that time to go to Trent's. It was much prettier, and more peaceful and fulfilling. Unfortunately, I was not able to stay long. If I did want to stay at Woods Hole Hostel that evening, I would have to get moving. I had almost six miles to travel before I arrived at Wapiti Shelter. The terrain was pretty level, which allowed me to move fairly quickly, but it was hard to know how close I was to the shelter as my guidebook listed only one stream. There were actually many flowing streams! We have had no problems finding water this year with all of the rain. I saw a couple more deer run through the woods across the trail, which was nice.     A little while later, I came to a cordoned section of woods and what looked like a drained lake, surrounded by orange fencing, and "keep out" signs. I wondered if it was roped off for a search of more bodies. It was an eerie site. Finally, I saw the scary shelter to my right, up a hill in the distance. I made my way up to it and tried to imagine how the murderer had buried bodies underneath it, as there didn't appear to be enough space to commit such an act. A dog came running in my direction, followed by a man. I got scared for a few seconds, before he asked the way back to the trail, saying that he was headed south. I snacked again and read through the registry. This one still contained entries from last year, including one from one of the two fishermen shot last year. He had returned a month later in vindication, not sure how either he or his friend had survived the malicious incident. The perpetrator had died three days later in jail.   Once I got going again, I climbed some more, up rocky trail (deciding to listen to my ipod to help me move a little faster). I was feeling a bit slow and lethargic, and my stomach wasn't feeling well. I didn't know if I should attribute it to the chicken or the rootbeer. I came to several outcrops with expansive views of the valley below. I stood there as hawks drifted on the currents below me, and regretted spending my break time in the shelter in the woods, rather than these on these outcrops (I hadn't known I would come to such views). I moved on, and came to yet another outcrop. This time, I decided that it didn't matter what time I arrived at the hostel. I like to arrive at hostels by dinnertime in case they offer dinner, but this hostel only advertised breakfast. Besides, I thought that if they did offer dinner, I could always get some leftovers later. The view was just too beautiful to rush by.   I continued on, feeling more and more tired, and with my stomach in greater distress. I could not wait to get to the hostel and get cleaned up. I saw a sign on a tree with a drawing of a log cabin, an advertisement for the hostel, and a map marking its location. It felt very comforting to me to see this in the woods, and I was happy that I was now only a couple of miles away. However, the path was covered in rocks, that made moving quickly impossible. The rocks ate up my remaining energy, and I had to muster all of my strength to walk the half mile on the gravel road to the hostel. As I walked, my only thought was hope that I would be given a ride back to the trailhead in the morning. I turned into the driveway about 7:20 pm, to the barking of dogs. I walked up to the house porch and was greeted by Bahama Dave, who did not recognize me at first. He said that everyone had left just a few minutes ago to see a musical in town. "A musical?!" I love musicals! He said it was actually a dinner place in town with live music. Bahama Dave pointed out the freezer with frozen pizzas in it, the refridgerator with sodas and candy bars, and the barn loft for sleeping. I climbed up the ladder, dropped off my pack on one of the mattresses, and took a shower. It started to thunderstorm as I was inside the house, and once again, I was safe and sound. We had a lot of trouble figuring out how to operate the new, digital oven, so it took over an hour to reheat the pizza. In the meantime, I had to eat a candybar. Bahama Dave went to bed, and I waited inside the house for everyone to return. I thought I might scare them if I waited in the barn.    I heard a call pull up after 10. I was surprised and happy to see Joe Kickass again, although he wasn't feeling very happy himself. He was here because he had been suffering from shins splints and was taking several days off from walking. Mischa was there, as I expected, and so was O.G., who I had briefly met in Damascus. They were all seated around the table in the barn, and as I walked in, O.G. stretched out his arms. He kept them outstretched, so I wondered if he was meaning to give me a hug... I went over to him and hugged him, although I'm still not sure if that's what he meant to do... Anyway, he is really nice, and I was so happy to once again be back in the company of nice people! It felt really good after such a lonely and scary stretch.       Mischa borrowed Michael's guitar and played music for us, which was the first time I have heard the guitar on the trail! He sang 'Hotel California' and maybe one or two other songs, before setting it down. I told him I had started learning to play last summer, and since no one was using it, I decided to see if I could still remember what I had learned. Unfortunately, I have forgotten a lot! One thing that I am looking forward to after the trail, is learning to do more with the guitar. At about midnight, O.G. noticed a light in the distance. It was coming closer! A hiker was coming into the hostel at midnight! Our eyes grew wide, as we realized there was a good chance it was Spike! Fortunately, it was not. It was one of the younger guys who had made fun of my umbrella a few nights ago. What was he doing here? He should have been way ahead by now! He had no shirt on and was dripping wet. The other hikers asked him if he was staying and he said, "I need to make a call." No one had cell service. He seemed perturbed and asked if there was a phone in the house. O.G. said there was, but it was probably in their bedroom, and he did not feel comfortable about waking Neville and Michael up. The wet hiker sighed and said he would have to do it himself. We could not believe his audacity and sat at the table stunned. When he returned, he asked if there were any blankets around and said that he would have to commandeer them. We all retreated upstairs, took to our mattresses, and tried to sleep through the storms, with the rain pounding loudly on the tin roof. P.S. I would later learn that they moved Wapiti shelter from its former location next to a road.