Date: 2004-07-01
From: Slope of Humpback Mountain

To: A Lesson To Remember
Miles today: 11.8

I resolved to hike at a slower pace today. Actually, my sore feet would have prevented me from pushing things again even if I had wanted to.It was lunch time when I arrived at the Paul C. Wolfe Shelter, the object of yesterday's obsessive and failed endeavor. There, I met up with hikers Super Jew and Mello Mike, who were shoving off after having spent the night there.Below the shelter is a stream with a pool of water. I placed my bandana into the water, removed it, then squeezed out the water from the cloth. A milky substance spread into the pool of water. I suspect that the substance was salt which had accumulated in the fabric of the bandana. That is the bandana which I use to wipe my perspiring face. Lately, I have been sweating more heavily during the ascents up mountains.Here are some things that I thought about while hiking:During yesterday's hike, my mental state was like that of a harried commuter. I spent the day rushing down the trail rather than enjoying it. When I hiked over those concentrations of rocks, it was like driving a car aggressively in bumper to bumper traffic. I was frustrated by the slowed up pace. That is not how I want to hike to Maine. Why have I not experienced the oppressive heat of the summer? Today, when I observed a valley from an overlook, the view was partially shrouded by humidity in the air; this tells me that the summer is in full swing. I wonder if the extremes of heat are so diminished in the shade of the forest that it becomes tolerable to engage in hard physical exertion. Also, the high elevations of the trail sometimes offer a breeze not felt in lower elevations.Lately, there has been a greater amount of viewpoints on the trail. There have been fewer PUD's, defined as Purposeless Ups & Downs with no scenery.I recalled an incident which occurred two evenings ago at a shelter. After erecting my hammock, I had rushed through the cooking of my meal, hoping to eat and clean up before it grew dark. An older man was sharing the picnic table with me; he was staying at the shelter during a two or three day hike. Thru hikers Wilson and Deeds were sitting nearby on the front of the shelter. The older man struck up a conversation with me. I answered his questions but did not contribute much to the conversation. I had hiked for 22 miles and was more interested in the task of cooking my meal. I was not rude to this person, but I was not enthusiastic either.When Wilson and Deeds talked to me a few minutes later, I became more conversant. On a journey like this one, characterized by excessive physical exertion, deprivations, and a long absence from friends and relations back home, there is a natural tendency to gravitate to the company of fellow thru hikers or long sectional hikers; they are sharing the same pressures.But this social preference should not create exclusionary situations. In retrospect, I was wrong that evening to have displayed enthusiasm only when conversing with fellow thru hikers Wilson and Deeds and paying only lip service to that other man who was hiking for a short, weekend type of outing. It was a lesson to remember.During the mid afternoon, I reached a road near Waynesboro, Virginia. The instructions in my trail handbook indicated that when I leave the woods I should walk or hitchhike left on the Blue Ridge Parkway; that is what I did. The book was wrong. I walked for half a mile, turned around, and sought assistance in a tourism office.To my delight, the people in the office told me that some retired people in Waynesboro volunteer to shuttle hikers into town for free. Minutes later, a man named Bob pulled up in his car. He drove me to an outfitter where I purchased some chemicals to treat drinking water. He drove me to a department store where I purchased a child's fleece blanket to augment my summer sleeping bag. Then he dropped me off at a Chinese restaurant. What a nice man.Hikers Wilson and Deeds showed up at the same place and we ate supper together.Then we walked over to another part of town where a field adjoined an industrial plant. There, hikers are permitted to camp for free.I recognized several hikers camping in this field; they included Shivers and Susan. I strung up my hammock and tarp within a tree line, socialized for a while, then visited a nearby YMCA and obtained a shower for two dollars.It rained as darkness fell, sending everyone into their individual shelters. The factory that adjoins this field is emitting loud industrial noises. After camping each night on the Appalachian Trail, these artificial sounds are somewhat disconcerting. On a PA system in the factory, a woman's voice can be heard issuing statements to the late shift workers. There is an Orwellian drone to her voice, if that makes any sense. I will rest and resupply for two days in this town. Tomorrow, I will book a room in a motel and get away from that voice on the PA system. In the meantime, the tapping of raindrops on my tarp will hopefully mute the sounds coming from the factory, enabling me to fall asleep.