Date: 2009-07-11
From: Rod Hollow Shelter

To: Wild camp beyond Blackburn Trail Centre
Miles today: 19.3

Today I returned to Bear¢s Den Rocks. In my memory they were uphill, sweaty and a nice place to stop. In the end it was two out of three as the views only turned out to be ok but nothing spectacular. That might have been enough if I had them to myself but it was Saturday and any selfish notions that I might have harboured were drowned out by the general calamity of much to¢ing and fro¢ing amongst the masses. Nothing wrong with that of course but it affects us all differently. For me it means cutting short my stop and moving on.I headed for a quick look at the hostel. It was a pleasant enough spot and I bought a soda as I sat and chatted with one of the Poles.   He had hike in 2005 and it was interesting to share experiences and thoughts. Like me he was trying to visit new places this time round but couldn¢t bring himself not to revisit the good places. He would stay here tonight, hopefully with some new faces but also with the ghosts of the past. Once again I would move on. I had a cunning plan to make it to the Blackburn Trail Centre for a shower (so as not to be too smelly when Libby picked me up tomorrow. I was currently on day 8 since washing and the smellometer had gone beyond red some days ago). I would then move on to David Lesser Shelter, leaving only a short hop, skip and a jump to town. A great plan on paper, with much to comment it but it did mean that I would have to shake a leg and get down to the business of putting a few of those miles behind me.And that¢s when the fun began; or could the seed actually be traced back to last night when Flash warned of a ¢significant¢ (I heard ¢apocalyptic¢) thunderstorms this afternoon. I wish I had a defence for this sort of information, that I could sense it coming and stick my fingers in my ears and gaily sing ¢na na na na na na na¢ on and on until the fateful news had drifted off into the ether. Sadly no, instead I heard it, tried to scoff at it, tried to ignore it but really filed it away to stoke the fire of future anxiety.Anyway, heading on things seemed ok, but perceptibly the humidity began to rise. I was bathed, and I really mean bathed, in my own perspiration: a, not so, fine film of hot sticky water, broken only by the near constant rivulets running down from my forehead and my nose. No matter, I thought but was that the distant rumble of thunder? No? Yes? There it is again. By now I was horsing on, really putting the pedal down (perhaps a first for the whole of the trip). I knew I was sweating, I hoped I was making progress. If it holds off for an hour I¢ll be nearly there ¢ except it did and I wasn¢t. I consulted the book. I hoped I might have been doing close to three miles an hour; I was barely doing two. I had thought it was six miles, it was really eight. Blast, double blast and balderdash.I left Virginia, no fanfare. I got to a viewpoint the sky was steely gray. Think boy, think.I came up with a plan. The storms out here usually last between one and three hours (call it two, I do) maybe if it started (it was bound to wasn¢t it?). I could sit it out in my tent and as it was only 3pm I¢d still have time to make enough progress during the tail end of the day. First I rearranged my pack so that my tent was at the top, then when it started to spit I found a camp spot. I waited for it to start, a coiled spring primed for action. In the end I couldn¢t bear the tension and set up my tent up anyway. By 3.45pm the ¢storm¢ had passed. The first time I¢ve ever heard a couple of minutes of intermittent and widely interspersed raindrops described as ¢significant¢. The weather prophets of doom had done for me once again. Why oh why do I let it happen? I could kick myself.Chastened but relaxed I was back on Plan A and soon arrived at the Blackburn Trail Centre. Flash was there, and it was good to see him but I didn¢t mention the full extent of the trouble he had caused me (he hadn¢t meant any harm, most people would have been grateful for the heads up). I showered and it was truly wonderful, uplifting even: all that clean, cool water washing away the accumulated grime with a new Neil emerging from the muck. I was convinced to stay for a great meal of spaghetti, brownies and root beer. I thought I might stay after the food but instead I had itchy feet. Clean, dry, well-fed and rested everything was perfect and I short evening stroll would round off the day beautifully. I went on for 45 minutes and turned in as the gloaming faded into night.Wearily I lay down and prepared for sleep only to find that tonight my tent was going to do a pretty decent impression of a sauna. Life? Don¢t you love it?