Date: 2015-11-19
From: US 250 Rockfish Gap

To: Paul C. Wolf Shelter
Miles today: 5.1
Weather: scattered clouds

I got up early. I was anxious to leave. The rain continued through the night and into the morning but, according to the Weather Channel, was expected to clear by mid day. My chest congestion seem to be better. It was time for me to go.I made arrangements for "Yellow Truck" to pick me up late in the morning. Then I had a big breakfast and finished packing."Yellow Truck" picked me up right on time. He had a huge yellow truck my husband would have drooled over. The driver was a very friendly older little gentleman about as wide as he is tall. He proudly told me that his girth was the result of beer drinking. Although he does not hike, he apparently has a soft spot for hikers. On our way to Rockfish Gap he gave me a brief tour of the town, including the spot by the railroad tracks where hikers are permitted to camp. There was no sign of Graham, who I assumed headed back to the trail yesterday.We stopped at Rockfish Gap Outfitters, where it was clear "Yellow Truck" was well known and very welcome. I was looking for a small dry bag for my Nano Puff jacket, and a stamp for my AT passport book. I found both.A guy in the shop heard I was from Florida and asked me lots of questions about alligators. He had a paddling trip in the Okefenokee Swamp in Georgia coming up and he was obviously more than a little concerned about the gators. I hope I helped him.Then "Yellow Truck" took me to Rockfish Gap. As I was putting on my pack and preparing to climb over the guardrail to get back on the AT, "Yellow Truck" asked how much my pack weighed - 40 pounds. He told me I really needed to get my pack weight down to 35 or less if I hoped to finish the AT.I appreciated his concern. I assured him that I had stripped the pack down several times, and could not get the weight below 40. But I had to laugh inside. The Blue Beast and I have already covered the worst the AT has to offer. We are now in the home stretch. 40 pounds is a lot of weight, but I am pretty sure I WILL finish.I offered "Yellow Truck" money for his trouble. Like Cindy, he refused to take my money. He has been shuttling hikers for a few years and takes great pride in the number of hikers he has helped. He keeps detailed records of how many hikers he shuttles each month.(I try to send hand written thank you notes to everyone who has helped me on the AT and asked for absolutely nothing in return - true trail angels. Cindy gave me a business card with her address. I found "Yellow Truck's" real name on the shuttle list. Several days later, while in town again, I searched Google for his address. I discovered that he had served on the Waynesboro city counsel. Then I discovered something else - something that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. According to a newspaper article, complete with photograph, "Yellow Truck" had an arrest record for attempted rape. He apparently pled guilty to a lesser charge, but he clearly has a criminal record. I was surprised that Waynesboro included someone with a criminal record on the hiker shuttle list. Under the circumstances it it hard for me to believe the folks in Waynesboro did not know about his criminal record.)br> I was back on the AT just before 1 p.m. I was entering the Blue Ridge Parkway area. The trail was very wet from all the rain and very foggy, but was orherwise lovely. Instead of being spooky it felt very calming and welcoming - like I was home. It was good to be back in the woods again.I came to a swollen stream crossing the trail. There was no place to rock hop across.   I did not want to get my camp shoes/Keenes wet, so I just carefully crossed barefoot. The water was just above my ankles and just a little chilly. The stream bottom was pea gravel - easy on the feet. I came to a second swollen stream, one less deep. I took my chances rock hopping.I was quickly beginning to realize that the rivers and streams would all be swollen due to the 2 storm systems which recently passed through. Since that terrible day in the 100 mile wilderness I was getting better about being around and crossing water, but swollen streams still make my heart beat a little faster.Up ahead, shrouded in fog, right beside the AT, I found the remnants of an old cabin mentioned in the AT guide. All that was left was the hearth and chimney, which were huge and solidly built. I took several pictures and wondered about the family that once cooked their meals and warmed their home using the beautiful old hearth and chimney. I continued on in the damp fog. The AT guide also mentioned a small cemetery. I looked but could not find it. The head stones were probably buried under the thick blanket of wet leaves covering the forest floor. Given the late start and my heavy pack full of resupply, I planned for a short day. My goal was to just reach the first shelter, which was a very easy 5.1 miles.As the shelter appeared out of the fog it was clear that I was not the first to arrive. A young bearded gentleman had already made himself at home, hanging most of his pack contents to dry all over the shelter.The shelter journal had several references to bear activity in the area. I quickly made my dinner so I could get my food hung before dark on one of the 2 bear poles provided. The privy is located uphill from the shelter and the water source. Curiously it only had half a door. Perhaps that is so hikers can watch for bears while tending to business.I quickly learned that Andrew is a southbound thru hiker carrying a 55 pound pack. A lot of his gear is army surplus, including a heavy wool blanket, which accounts for much of the weight of his pack. He was drinking dark rum from a plastic water bottle. He offered to share. I politely declined. By the time I turn in for the night he finished all the rum.Andrew has had a tough life largely due to the choices he has made, and he is rough around the edges, but he is also considerate, polite, and appeared to want some company. When he lit up a cigarette in the shelter, and I asked him to please smoke outside because of my ongoing lung issues, he quickly apologized and left the shelter to smoke.Like me, he had just left Waynesboro. Everything he owned was wet because he camped near the railroad tracks last night in the heavy rain. Instead of a tent, Andrew only has a bivy - basically a sack he pulls over the wool blanket he sleeps in.I asked him about Graham. Initially all he said was that Graham got off the trail, which seemed strange since I just saw Graham and he said he was headed back to the AT. (At this point my imagination briefly ran wild - did Andrew do something to Graham down by the railroad tracks?)Fortunately my imagination was way off. Andrew explained that a bum stole Graham's tent and his headlamp. I guess that was the last straw. Graham decided to go home to Texas. I felt better. But the feeling did not last.Andrew and I started talking about books. After discussing several books, just before dark, Andrew told me he likes books where everyone dies in the end. The creepy feeling was back. I was about to spend the night deep in the woods alone in a shelter with a guy I just met who has been drinking and likes situations where everyone dies!The AT is calling. I hope I am still here in the morning!