Date: 2004-06-27
From: Route 501 near Glasgow, VA

To: More Night Woes
Miles today: 10.5

When a pair of hikers spreads out their sweaty, damp, and filthy clothing in a motel room, especially in a tiny room, a nasty smell permeates the air. For that reason, I had opened up the window at the "Mom & Pop Motel" in the small town of Glasgow, VA where I had stayed with Shivers. The window was screened. During the night, no see-um bugs entered through the screen and attacked the skin on my neck. Talk about frustration; even in a motel room the quality of my sleep was reduced.Shivers left town during the morning and hitch hiked back to the trail. I spent the morning preparing for the next phase of the hike to Waynesboro, VA. I also composed my journal while sitting at a picnic table under a tree in front of the motel. A few doors down, my neighbor Wayne was sitting at another picnic table and examining his bow and arrows. A musical speaker was situated near him with the voice of Hank Williams waffling through the air.In the meantime, other hikers were showing up to re-supply. They included Backdraft Bong Ramen, Dig Dug, Brittany and her friend Mark, who is new to the trail, and JP and Knuckles. Nowadays, it seems like JP and Knuckles are always hiking one day behind me, and we see each other only in towns; this has become a source of amusement.I hitchhiked a few miles back to the Appalachian Trail and resumed hiking.The first three miles were easy and pleasant. The trail followed beside a gushing stream. The weather was cool. I met a family who were enjoying a day hike. A cute boy, who was around five years old, walked up to me and showed off his water canteen with its cloth liner and strap. I told him the canteen looked great. He offered me a drink from it. I politely declined, assuming his parents would not approve.Whenever I hit the trail after a town visit, the hiking is especially difficult for a while. There are two reasons for this. Towns are usually situated in low elevations, so it requires a sharp ascent to get back up into the high country, usually a wooded ridgeline. The other reason is that my backpack is heavier than usual because it contains food intended to last for several days.The trail veered away from the stream and led me up a tough ascent. I struggled up the slope, halting often to catch my breath. I was perspiring so much that I took off my shirt. I attributed my exhaustion to the five days worth of food that I was carrying; this was possibly the heaviest weight on my back so far. The restless sleep on the previous night also might have contributed to my tiredness during this ascent.Here are some of the things I thought about while hiking:Am I going to be cold in the sleeping bag tonight? A cool breeze on the ridgeline suggests that the night will be chilly, and the new, summer sleeping bag has not been keeping me warm enough. Should I have purchased a summer sleeping bag with a lower temperature rating?Is hiking a pastime that most people down South avoid? On this Sunday, there were legions of motorcyclists on the roads. Fishermen with motorboats were plying the waters of the James River. Antique auto owners were driving around. But on the Appalachian Trail, particularly the first three miles with that beautiful stream, there was only one family representing the local populace. There was ample parking at the trailhead, so access was not a reason for the absence of day hikers. If this stream was located in Massachusetts, I suspect that there would have bee more people hiking it, especially on such a nice afternoon.It was getting close to dark when I arrived at Punchbowl Shelter. The camping area was scenic with a small pond located nearby. I strung up my hammock and tarp close to the pond. The two sides of the tarp were angled closer to the hammock than usual in an effort to raise the temperature inside the hammock. Still, I expected to feel cold during the night considering the recent performance of my new sleeping bag.In the pond, located a few paces away from the hammock, frogs were croaking loudly. I assumed these amphibians would cease their mating ritual when the sky darkened.I also assumed that the insects would probably be more concentrated near the water, but I was confident that my mosquito netting would keep them at bay.There are two other thru hikers¢new faces¢camping here. One of them went to sleep early; I forgot his name. The other person is named Utah. He started up a campfire and we enjoyed a short and relaxing conversation; it was a nice way to end the day.The frogs did not quiet down when the darkness came. I tossed a stone into the pond in order to make them to stop their croaking. This action reminded me of a parent opening up the door to a bedroom and gently reminding children to go to sleep.When the stone landed with a kerplunk, the frogs went quiet.Ten seconds later, I heard a single "Ribbit." A few seconds later, "Ribbit, Ribbit." Soon, the croaking chorus resumed its performance, yet another weapon in Mother Nature's war against my ability to obtain a decent sleep.