Date: 2013-03-18
From: Dockery Lake Trail

To: Neels Gap
Miles today: 7.9

Word on the street the night before was that the beautiful weather we had all been enjoying the previous days was about to come to an end. We were expecting rain showers over night that would turn into something much worse as the day progressed- rain, wind, lightning, etc. With Blood Mountain still to face, I decided to get an early, early start to try to stay ahead of the worst of the weather. I woke up about 5 a.m. and listened to the rain bouncing off the top of the tent. I packed the sleeping bag and sleeping pad and arranged the stuff sacks to go in the backpack. I put on my rain gear and headlamp and thought about the food bag that I still needed to fetch. I wondered how wet it would be. I laid back out on the ground-sheet and stared at the light of the headlamp reflecting off the ceiling of the tent. I felt the cold of the ground seeping through my jacket, and I realized that mornings were going to be my "low point." Especially cold, rainy mornings. I looked at my watch and knew that I wasn't going to get any closer to Neels Gap by just laying there. I crawled out of the tent. Fog. Thick fog. Thick, dark fog. With the light of the headlamp reflecting off the water molecules in the air, visibility was little more than 3-4 ft. Bring it on! In some sick, twisted way, this leavened my spirits. I felt a surge of excitement pulse through my veins. Today was certainly going to be an adventure. I stumbled through the fog and found my food sack.   I quickly packed the rest of my stuff, pulled down the tent and attached it to the outside of my pack. I turned toward the direction of the previous night's apple debacle and started looking for white blazes. The fascinating part of the journey was that with one's sense of sight severely limited, you are forced to utilize other senses. For the first time in four days, I was forced to really notice the texture of the trail under my feet. If you stepped on fluffy leaves and twigs, you were off the trail. If rock faces suddenly became steep, chances are you were off the trail. The trail had a rhythm and a flow. It felt so strangely natural and predictable; up, over, around, through. For an hour and half, I hiked in the dark, rainy, fog. I was headed up a short incline, I realized that the morning was finally starting to wake up. The dark fuzzy outlines of trees were subtly emerging against the grey fog. I knew in that moment that all was going to be okay. I also wondered how many creatures were watching me. A quasi-lame, walking food bag. Surely there were bears, deer, foxes, and any number of little animals out there beyond my sight that were far more aware of me than I was of them. I'm sure they smelled the Snickers bar I was having for breakfast (I later talked with a fellow hiker, Baggin' It, who had left out an hour before I did. She had sat down to have a snack and a bear came up behind her and growled and pounded its front paws at her, and then it followed/chased her down the trail a ways. I don't think she enjoyed her foggy early morning hike nearly as much as I had, but I certainly can't say that I blame her). When it was finally light enough to ditch the headlamp I realized that I had traveled a lot farther and faster than I expected. By 8:30 a.m. I was headed up Blood Mountain, past all sorts of ideal bear dens. The rhododendrons were lush and plentiful and hauntingly beautiful in the early morning fog. The wind picked up considerably as I climbed higher. I took a snack break at Blood Mountain shelter and chatted with Spencer. I watched howling wind blow fog (clouds?) in the windows of the shelter and was grateful I hadn't spent the night there. Only two miles to go. After a few stretches, I loaded the pack on my back and headed back out. I slipped and slid my way down the rock faces, ever-so thankful that my ailing toes were cooperative enough to go back in the boots. I had seriously considered trying to hike in my Crocs, but instead decided to wear my thinner "sleeping socks" which helped tremendously- my tootsies just need more room. I ended up on my butt once, but luckily the slope was steep enough that the bottom of my pack caught the ground before my booty did.There was rock hoping and rock crawling, down, down, down. The rain and wind continued to pick as the temperature continued to drop. A few hundred meters from Mountain Crossings, Great Legs caught up me and we crossed the road together. "Peas!" I heard Zack exclaim as we approached the shop, and he greeted me with a big hug. I dropped my pack and collected my mail drop. I tried on a few pairs of boots while I waited for Steve to come to my rescue. Slowly all those whom I'd camped with the night before trickled in to the shop. The Mountain Crossings staff didn't miss a beat. This clearly wasn't their first rodeo. We all chatted and warmed up. Most, if not everyone, seemed to be staying in the area for the night. Steve collected me, and we went back to my parents-in-laws' house. I showered and changed clothes and took off the bandages and moleskin. U-G-L-Y. Off to the hospital we went. I seem have a respectable infection happening in two toes and a third toe that's considering joining the party. And it's creeping up my foot. So antibiotics, new boots and few days to let things heal up. I hope to be back on the trail by next weekend.   I can't wait!In the meantime, my parents-in-law are as lovely hosts and hostesses as they always are. It's a treat to get to spend a bit more time with them. Again, the universe has all kinds of treats in store for us.