Date: 2011-05-13
From: Howard Johnson, Daleville VA

To: Wilson Creek Shelter
Miles today: 11.3
Weather: overcast clouds

(In which I nero out of Daleville)At breakfast I see German Shepard, who has apparently not hiked on yet after all. "Ya, I broke my stick", he says when I ask him about it. "It is too short for me now. I am looking for a new one already." He gives his blessing to my furthering the life of the honorable stick, which is now the perfect size for me, and I hope that he has good luck finding a successor.Without particularly planning to, I spend the morning at the hotel, first sleeping in, then eating breakfast and finally surfing the net on a real computer (even if its kiosk software is painfully limiting). Of all of the luxuries not easily available in town or on the trail, access to a fast computer with a good internet connection is easily the one I miss the most. Had I known how difficult it was to get access to good computers in trail towns, I would have given serious consideration to a setting up a bounce box just for a laptop fast enough to edit and upload photos.The forecast for all of Virginia seems to be rain for as far as the extended weather listings go. "I hope you don't mind getting wet", the grocery store bagger said with a chuckle. Seeing as the clouds have covered the sky for days, this forecast is believable, if dismal.I leave around noon, after all of the other hikers have left, hiking out of town in the warm mist. This is my third short hiking day in a row now, and I think that I could get used to the new pace, if my sense of urgency doesn't kick in and spur me on. My actual hiking speed hasn't changed, but I've been hiking considerably fewer hours a day, leaving later, taking more breaks and stopping earlier. Having hiked more than seventy hours a week for the first month of my trip, I've enjoyed having the extra time to read and relax each day.It starts raining shortly before I reach the second shelter out of town, and though the light warm rain feels good to hike in, I stop anyway to ensure a dry place to sleep. Clay, Jake and Lee, three friends from Maine, are the only other occupants of the shelter, which also contains a large Coleman propane stove. I study the stove, wondering if there is some way that I can use it to melt the cheese on my bagel. Though all four of us brainstorm ideas -- holding the stove upside down, wrapping the bagel in aluminum foil -- none of them seems very practical. I eventually try what seems like the best of the available options, heating small spoonfuls of cheese in the metal spoon that was left with the stove, and putting each spoonful on the bagel. This doesn't work particularly well, as the cheese at the bottom and edge of the spoon starts to bubble before most of it is even warm, but the bagel with slightly warmer than normal cheese is good nonetheless.Mayo, Mehap and Tom have hiked ahead, likely some eight miles further to the next shelter, and I know that if I keep my new pace, nearly everyone else I meet will pass me too. But for now I feel fine with this, knowing that everyone has to hike their own hike, and on a trail where everyone hikes at different speeds, there's never such a thing as keeping up.