Date: 2003-05-25
From: 1 mile past Turk Gap

To: Loft Mountain Campground
Miles today: 15.0
Weather: broken clouds

I woke about 4 a.m. to a yellow sliver of moon hanging low in the sky. When I woke up again, at 6 am, the clouds had moved back in."Get up," I prodded myself. "Break down camp before it rains." Yeah, right. Snzzzz...I woke a third time to the sound of rain; damn! I'd be packing up a wet tent. Oh well, at least no bears last night. One out of two ain't bad.I checked my watch - 8:30! Without the rustle of stuff sacks and the snick of zippers, a morning just lacks a certain urgency out here. After all, there are no alarms clocks.About the time I am packed up, Commander in Chief walks by my campsite. We hike together for part of the morning. At one point, here come two does, right down the Trail. First thru-hiking cows, now this?The deer in the Shennies are not exactly tame, but not exactly shy either. They wander to within ten feet, then amble out of range.Later, a buck with budding antlers crosses Skyline Drive. I wonder how many collisions happen up here; folks drive fast on these curvy roads, and the deer are everywhere. This little buck is working on four points, with swollen, velvet-covered buds.A highlight of the day is Black Rock Mountain, a fantastic moonscape of jumbled, cracked boulders. The rocks are covered with a familiar lichen I'd not gotten anyone yet to ID - rock tripe. A sign explains that the rock tripe gave the mountain it's name. Olive on one side, black on the other, the lichen looks like wet leather, or peeling paint or something dead, but it's not dead. It's very much alive.Commander in Chief, who is in the military and has taken survival courses later told me this lichen was edible. "I've eaten it, but it tastes kind of papery," she said "We called in bacon lichen."The miles to the Black Rock Hut ("hut" is Park lingo for "shelter") drag on and on. I am starving and want to eat. It's often easier to eat at a shelter on a wet day. Where the heck was that shelter?I meet southbounding hikers Donna and Lauren. Mother and daughter, they were out driving on Skyline Drive hoping to surprise their thru-hiking dad/hubby. Did I know Detective Friday? I'd met him briefly at breakfast yesterday morning with Notes, who'd hiked with him. If it were me, I'd want to be found.I knew he was ahead of me; he'd signed the register at Calf Mt. and left before I got there. So, he couldn't be far, I assured them: "You're going the wrong way though, He's north of here. Let's check the register at Black Rock Hut, which SHOULD be along here any minute now..."I lead these two lovely women right... back to their car. Hmmm, this can't be right. They have a cooler in the car, and load me up with two turkey sandwiches, a banana, an ice-cold Pepsi (caffeine in the woods!) and a Reese's Peanut butter cup. Oh heaven! Excuse me whilst I emit a ladylike burp...Then, to show my appreciation, I lead them another half mile north - which leads us to a sign that tells me Black Rock Hut was well over a mile back. I've PASSED it! Crap. I've come from Georgia and have yet to pass a shelter. Now I HAVE to go forward and camp at Loft Mt. Campground. Hope they have space on this Memorial Day weekend.I check my guide and point the ladies to a spot where their fella will likely be found. He can't be more than four or five miles ahead of me. I hike on to Brown Mountain Gap, where I pause to watch two does amble across Skyline Drive, then practically leap over a family napping in the grass beyond. I am about to reenter the woods when up pulls Donna again. No luck locating her hubby, tho she's bang-on at finding me. As we are pouring over my guidebook, her cell phone suddenly rings. "It's him!" she says. He's just left Loft Campground, my destination. I point out a couple of probable spots where he might be caught, and they are off. I hope one day to learn the end of this love story.Made Loft Mt. Campground by 4 pm, where I stopped. The next shelter wasn't for five more miles. I hadn't had a campground experience - why not?Private campsite, though the nearby smell of grilling meat drove me mad. The Wayside with its short-order grill was too far for my tired feet to walk. At the camp store I paid a buck for a five-minute shower, but it was hot and good and worth every penny. I washed my hiking shirt and bra in the shower, then spent a quarter to dry it in the laundromat.I loaded up with store food - OJ for a quick jump-start, followed by Triscuits and sharp cheddar cheese for supper, washed down by V-8 juice, and four Vanilla snack puddings for dessert. For breakfast I bought doughnuts, milk, fig newtons, a banana and some peanut butter (all-purpose hiking protein). For this, I paid $20. Ouch! Thru-hikers just have no sense when they are calorie-deprived. I can buy a really fine town meal for that...After my tent was set up, I discovered the AT went skating behind it. I took my supper out onto a distant rock. There are some excellent cliffs back here. I can barely see the tops of the tents.As I write this, before me, my own private vista - the Shenandoahs, cliffside. Were there a sun, I would be watching the sunset. Were there a sun.But a thick cloud has settled over the camp, lowering visibility to 30 feet. Very strange how quickly things fog up out here. A young buck wanders right through the campground, and a woman from the adjacent campsite clucks to it."Are you a horseperson?" I ask, laughing. "Only a horseperson does that." Kristen was, and before I knew it, Jack was serving me a second supper beside their campfire. Mmmm, cheeseburgers with real onions...The rain starts up again and breaks up the party. I am in my tent now, about to go to sleep, and a young buck is sniffing around hopefully not four feet from my tent. I give the walls a bat to send him off; I hope he doesn't knock down a guyline in the night.