Date: 2006-04-23
From: Kinkorra hostel

To: Wantauga Lake Shelter
Miles today: 10.7
Weather: broken clouds

A short but satisfying hiking day, a good follow up to yesterday's big miles. So far my big miles days have been followed by zero or low digit days. Better to keep on track and stay in the hiking groove. Besides, two hostel stays in a row feels wrong to me somehow and it's better to be back in the woods. They really do call. That said, time at Kinkorra was not wasted.The best hostel days like the best town days put you in touch with the people ahead and behind. It's a loose community and these stops tie it together. I see people I haven't seen, get news of others and make new connections. The trail grapevine like the trail itself is linear and news travels up the trail and down. I was good to reconnect with Homeward, Irish, Handlebar, Slick B, Caboose, Walkabout and Leprechaun, I always forget, and Parkay who I'd figured I'd lost. I love the ways you reconnect when you assume disconnections are permenant. I got to talk to Stump Knocker again and with Ten Speed. They're big mile hikers who you usually only meet one time and they're gone.These days also help you reorganize and take care of your gear. Taking care of packs, tents, shoes, sleeping bags and stoves is crucial. At any hostel there is always a porch lined with drying boots and lines and railings draped with bags and tents. There are always people who rarely shower or change clothes and never shave sitting and meticulously taking care of feet. Besides gear feet are the most important and best tended part of a hiker. People change out shoes and boots more than any other piece of gear. I'd have been back on trail much earlier today if I hadn't stopped for gauze and band-aids and spent time nursing my flapping toenail. It wants to fall off and I want to keep it as long as possible. A bad infection means more time off trail.I waited for my turn to use the phone. I'd done lots of hike related business in my zero day and had to keep up some personal ties. Andrew first. Turns out he is home and not in Spain until the 29th. We're missing each other pretty and need a good dose of boyfriend stuff. Business too. Turns out the finance problem is with AAA and not a glitch on the homefront. Also, I finally talked to Lynanne. THe bratwurst and beer is waiting. Co-workers gave her and Peter a gas grill for her birthday and that's waiting too. Times getting closer to make solid plans for a visit and to get Andrew down here.I rode out to the store with several people headed out to slack pack. They were starting 9 miles north to hike what is supposed to be a difficult stretch of trail better taken north to south. They'll hike back to the hostel and head north tomorrow from where they started today. I haven't slacked yet and plan to carry my pack north over every mile. It's one of those little arrangements between hikers over preserving the purity of the hike. Besides, it's also a chance for me to give others a little shit. Caboose and co., Junko and BRad were heading back south. Parkay and Poles, a Canadian woman I met for the first time last night, had packs and were heading north. After dropping them at the trailhead, I had a chance to talk with Bob Peoples, owner of the hostel. Like Miss Janet he and Kinkorra are names on the trail and dedicated to the AT hiking world. Our conversation flowed directly out of the one I had with Ten Speed the other night. He's never done the trail but Bob knows hiking and hikers and what makes a hike succeed. He understands what lies at the base of a long distance hiker's drive. Seeking and quality of life came up again as what propels us all forward. He and his wife both gave up successful careers when they'd had enough of acquiring and chasing after what they were supposed to need and collect as signs of status and position. Now support the trail and run the hostel only on donations. Bob is also a tireless trail maintainer and knows every inch of trail in his section.After the store and the final packing and repacking I headed back out around 1:00. I had planned on an eleven mile day and wasn't too worried about a late start. I've relaxed into my hike and know my physical capabilities and worry much less about what lies ahead. I know I'll get where I'm going and if I don't I'll adjust plans accordingly. Pitching a tent off the trail in the dark or in the rain is just something I'll have to do if the situation dictates.That said, I do like to get where I plan on going. Especially if I know it's a challenge. I like to follow through. If the trail ahead was as tough as the backward slackers maintained and if I was walking into an afternoon thunderstorm I needed to pay attention and put in some miles. I passed the others as they came in the opposite direction. One said the trail ahead was a bitch. Others said it was a breeze. I expected something akin to Roan Mountain.The first few miles were just fun. The trail descended into a river gorge between high rock walls. I heard the water roaring before I saw it. At the bottom of Laurel Fork Gorge I stopped to view Laurel Falls. It was straight and wide loud, very different from yesterday's high rocky cascade. The river was high and following the trail meant walking a narrow ledge and finding hand holds on the wall. The river was only a foot below rushing over rapids. I missed a few blazes and followed it much further than I had to go.I reached the mountain in question. It clicked that I've climbed lots of steep slopes and this was just one more. I've hiked injured through snow and ice so what's a little rain. I started up singing, "I am Boulder hear me roar in voices too big to ignore." The slope was very steep but short. I topped out singing, "Is that all there is?" from Helen Reddy to Peggy Lee in half a mile.By now it was bright and sunny. I cruised down the next 7 miles and ended at a public beach on Watauga Lake. Nice spot so I unloaded my pack on a picnic table for a break. The lake is in a National Forest but I wondered about what care the forest service takes of it. I was getting whiffs of a strange scent like rotting citrus fruit. After looking around for the source, I realized it was me and I had only showered yesterday. After resting and enjoying the afternoon I hiked the last mile to the shelter. This short stretch of trail is easily accessible from the public road and looked it. Lots of trash, lots of cups floating in the water. At least a kind park patron had taken time and spray paint to warn all hikers that Holly Stout is a slutty whore. Boy was that a relief. I'd been considering calling to see if she was free for dinner. Thank heavens I don't have a phone.I set up for the evening and was alone in the shelter until Hui (pronounced Hooey) pulled in. He'd been off trail with friends for a few days. I'd probably seen him a week ago.As it got dark we had a great conversation about why each of us is hiking the trail. Reasons for both of us are pretty personal and we went beyond the usual surface explanations and stories. A Satisfying day.