Date: 2007-11-22
From: Thomas Knob Shelter

To: Damascus, VA
Miles today: 28.0
Weather: light rain

Happy Thanksgiving, or in my case, Happy Shitty Thanksgiving! Only 459.5 miles to Springer!!!!!!!!!!! Can't wait to be done.A quick note about the language and content of my journal from here out; the Trail has stopped being a physical challenge. It is completely a mental challenge right now, and with that come many strong emotions, many of them not so pleasant. Most of you have probably read about my mentally-trying time in northern Virginia; since then it's all been mental challenge. The hills come and go, but the thoughts of knowing I can have a warm place to sleep, time with family and friends, and ability to do things other than walking don't. That said, the language and content with most likely get a bit more colorful as I wrap up my journey. I hope that as you read my journal, you can come to know and appreciate what it's like to be out here, and there's certainly no clean language when you walk for 28 miles in the pouring rain when it's 42 degrees outside. Plus, I have a propensity to talk like a sailor even when I'm not on the trail, so why censor my journal?I left Thomas Knob nice and early, and made it around Mt. Rogers and down to the first valley rather quickly. I got there and it was starting to rain, so I put on my jacket but took off my long bottoms because I was starting to get hot. As soon as I started to climb White Top Mountain, I came across a maple sugar farm, if that gives you any idea of the elevation and climate that it brings. There were lots of pickups in the parking lot, but I didn't see any hunters. My rain jacket is blaze orange with reflective bits on it, and I also have a blaze orange rain cover for my pack. Since I knew it was going to rain all day, I lined my pack with a garbage bag, which helps to make sure that everything stays dry, even though everything that has to stay dry (warm clothes, sleeping bag, sleeping pad, iPod, phone and camera) are stored in their own individual dry bags.Walking over White Top was just like being back in Maine; it was rather strange feeling, to say the least! There was moss growing on everything, and also tons of ferns and pines. I climbed up into the clouds, which was pretty neat, and walked just at the bottom edge of them around the mountain (the trail doesn't actually go to the summit, which is covered with radio towers). I came across a piped spring on the far side, and it was gushing water so fast that when I put my Nalgene under it, water actually splashed back up out of the bottle! As I dropped down into the valley, it really started to rain hard.I had two plans for getting into Damascus, and neither of them involved walking on the AT for the second half of the day. The first plan was to try to hitch into town when I got to US 58, which runs straight into town. I got to the road and it was pouring, and told myself that I would give up hitching if I didn't have a ride in 25 minutes (11am). Five cars passed me, the last of which at 10:58, and none of them stopped. I headed back into the woods on the other side of the road, and made it to a shelter, where I ate lunch. I finished pretty much all of the food in my food bag except for my two remaining Liptons, and a bit of peanut butter.The second plan for getting into town at a decent hour was to take the Virginia Creeper Trail, a converted railroad. I got to the Creeper Trail shortly after leaving the shelter, and decided to listen to music, despite the fact that it was pouring rain and my iPod skin is not waterproof. I wrapped my iPod in my hat and stuck it in a pocket of my rain coat and started walking like crazy. It was 10 miles to town on the trail, all of which was perfectly graded downhill, and paralleled a trout stream. There are tons of bridges and trestles along the path, and I chugged along at over four miles per hour (super good pace). It continued to rain harder and harder, and as I got closer and closer to town, the trail started to parallel US 58. I saw 3 of the 5 cars that had passed me while I was hitching driving back out of town, which pissed me off. One of them was a souped-up Dodge Neon. All I could think about is who would waste their time and money 'tricking out' a Dodge Neon?As I got closer to town, it became evident that it's perfectly acceptable here to throw your trash off down the embankment in your back yard into the trail easement or the trout stream. I had made a reservation for the hostel in town run by one of the outfitters, because the free hostel is closed for the season. I arrived at there and found that it was kind of a dive. There was nobody else there, so it was going to be my 6th night alone in a row, and there wasn't even a TV or radio to break the silence. Plus, there weren't even beds or anything, which I had expected; just plywood platforms to sleep on. Trying to make the best of the situation, I walked to the grocery store after taking a shower, only to find that it was much further than the map in the Companion indicated, and that it had closed 45 minutes before I got there. I started to get really disappointed, because I had walked past the only place the outfitter had said might be open when I talked to them on the phone and found that it was closed as well. I saw a big building with a bunch of cars in the parking lot, and decided to see what was up. It ended up being a restaurant, the Old Mill, but the door was locked, and a lady who had just come out of the door said that it they had just closed. I walked away, but decided to go back to the door to see if anyone working there might know of a place that sold food that might still be open. She never opened the door more than six inches, and said that there was nowhere else that was open. Rather disappointed, I was headed down the steps when another woman came to the door and said that I could come inside and they would feed me. I took a seat at the bar, and in a few minutes, there was a huge plate in front of me, heaped with food. I ate like a king, and when she came back to ask how everything was, I teared up and couldn't talk. The only time I have been away from family on Thanksgiving was when I was in Australia, but there no one else was celebrating Thanksgiving and it went by just like any normal day. Martha (my roommate there), and I had a big BBQ with other American kids though, and we had a good time anyways. Here, though, I had spent all day walking by houses along the Creeper Trail and was able to look inside and see people sitting around the table eating, while I froze my ass off walking in the pouring rain in 42 degree weather with pretty strong winds and not a soul to talk to.They brought me some pumpkin pie for dessert, and the lady who seemed to be in charge of the whole outfit came by at the end to check and see how everything was. She wouldn't take any money for the meal and that's when I lost it. She asked where I was staying, and I told her the hostel. She asked how long I would be in town, and I muttered one more night, and she said that if I came by on Friday that she would hook me up with a room in the Inn. I left with a renewed sense of appreciation for Damascus, which I had been cursing under my breath up until they put the huge amount of food in front of me.I headed back to the hostel and went to a gas station to get some Diet Coke and Skittles, and sat around and read National Geographic magazines from the 1980s until I fell asleep. Barbarossa also called, and I had a good talk with him, which was nice.