Date: 2013-04-09
From: Overmountain Shelter

To: Vango/Abby Memorial Hostel
Miles today: 21.3
Weather: scattered clouds

(In which I pick up a tremendous mail drop and also begin a courier mission)I set my alarm clock for 0600 and finally dismiss it and arise at 0700. I break camp and depart from Overmountain Shelter before 0800. The day's walking begins with a gentle climb up Little Hump Mountain. This quickly reveals itself to be at least the equal of yesterday's bald peaks. Hump Mountain rises beyond, bald and grassy itself and tied to Little Hump with a bare saddle. The low morning sun brings out a range of tones that fade to deep shade on the mountainside opposite the sun.Unlike yesterday's balds, these ones have substantial rocky outcrops jutting from the grass. Some are tall enough to shade me from the morning sun. I take advantage of these locations for photos and rest. The day is already warm. Though it looks like easy walking uphill on these smooth balds, I am rapidly gaining elevation and already becoming sweaty. I cross Hump Mountain and begin the long descent toward Route 19E and Elk Park. On Hump Mountain there are a couple fences to pass through or over.I pass a southbound section hiker near a fence on the bald. I turn back to get a photo of the hiker while he is between the fence and the summit, but a part of my camera falls off. It is a minor piece, a covering plate around the viewfinder and formerly held in place by one screw. I fix it back in place with a sliver of fluorescent pink duct tape. My 16-35mm lens has the same tape holding on the otherwise loose lens hood. This impromptu repair complete, I return the camera to my pack and move downhill.It is a nice descent of over five miles from Hump Mountain to Route 19E. Along the way there is not too much to see, but there are a couple impressive stone outcrops. One of these is a small cliff, not tall enough to clear the trees but impressive as I walk along its base. The Trail descends just below the road, crosses a stream, and climbs the embankment to a small parking area. I start walking toward Elk Park, but successfully hail a passing SUV which brings me to the post office. As has frequently been the case, the driver suggests they don't usually pick folks up. They warn me of crazies and meth labs further north, the latter of which I doubt I will uncover close to the AT.I leave my pack outside and go for my mail drop. Getting a hitch was fortunate, as the post office closes for lunch soon. I know a few friends were sending me food but I did not appreciate how much food I would wind up with! Three packages - thanks Sue, Nelly, and Jamey and Patti - and an envelope from my folks await me here. I know my mother was planning to send a package as well but it is a bizarrely fortunate thing that she could not get that arranged in time. I have gained several pounds of food on top of what I have not been able to eat before getting the mail drop.I bring my pack inside and use a table in the entry to reconfigure my pack. It is difficult to make it accept so much added volume in food. My food bag cannot take it all, so much of the snack food goes in the lid pocket for ready access. Patti's batch of cookies and some other light items go in a grocery bag clipped to the outside of my pack. My pack is now very heavy, moreso than every before. It definitely exceeds 50 pounds now, and I need to take all that weight on a long climb away from town.I don't hitchhike back to the Trail, but walk to a restaurant that is on the way back. In spite of all the food I have acquired, I have a craving for a hot, juicy hamburger. I satisfy that craving and wash it down with plenty of Coke. Hopefully this will lend me an extra burst of energy to make the climb out of town. The trailhead is about 1.5 miles away but I walk instead of trying to hitchhike such a small distance. I wish I had attempted to hitch, as a precious half hour is spent walking up the road until I am back to the Trail.The climb away from the road is at least as tortuous as I could have imagined. I am sweating and breathing hard and ditch my glasses in short order. While this spares me the trouble of keeping sweat free of my brow, it also limits my information on my surroundings somewhat. It is harder to tell how steep the ascent is, and I might be struggling to maintain a pace I should not be striving for. I must break repeatedly for water and simply to cool down. It is a hot day to be climbing uphill with so much weight.On the first part of the climb I stop to filter some water from a spring. There is a sleeping pad in its stuff sack hanging from a tree next to the water source. It doesn't weigh too much so I lash it to my pack. I figure with my fast pace I might catch its owner, and so close north of town it is unlikely a southbound hiker would have stopped here for water. If I do not find the owner, I have a sleeping pad and can better enjoy sleeping in the shelters or cowboy camping if I so desire. It is a bulky thing though, on top of my heavily laden pack, and have to duck lower to avoid overhead branches now.Eventually I cross over the high point of this ascent and start gently downhill. There is a large cemetery in sight of the Trail, and I join its occupants briefly in resting before I continue on. Nearby there is a church which allows hikers to use a faucet on the outside of the building. I also try the door to see if there is anybody around to thank, but it is locked. The Trail winds through a residential area briefly before departing civilization. I am surprised to encounter a youth riding a dirt bike on the Trail, but their pleasant greeting stalls me from chastising them.I take the short side trail to Jones Falls when I reach it. It is refreshing to rest in the cool shade that covers the falls at this time of day. Shortly afterward is Elk River. I stop at a grassy shore, remove my shoes, and test the water. It is too cold to swim, especially since I already cooled down by the waterfall. While I am letting my feet dry off, Dozer and Funyuns pass by. They had just missed me at the restaurant in Elk Park. I am invited to camp with them by the river, and it is tempting to pitch my hammock in this setting.I dry off and move along the riverside for a while. The Trail sticks to the river for a while, but the two prospective campsites are taken. The first site is occupied by two young folks, probably brothers, who I sense are wary of the passing thru-hikers. The second site is occupied by who may be Johnny Cash. I think I recognize his frame pack and his tent, but on calling out his trail name I get no response. It is surprising how often I see quiet campsites at hours as early as this. Not wanting to probe further, I press on along the river and wonder where Dozer and Funyuns are going to pitch camp.Dozer and Funyuns are pitched at a small site well above the river. Funyuns is pitching his hammock here, the same model as mine, and debating on which trees are sufficiently far apart. Finding the right trees to hang a hammock in the woods is not an easy task, but still probably easier than finding a good patch of flat ground. I offer up cookies to these guys in an attempt to reduce my food weight a bit before pressing on. Crush reaches us just before I leave to continue north, and he moves on as well. He is aiming for Mountaineer Shelter as well, but I pull away from him for most of the remaining distance.When I stop just short of the shelter to filter some water from Mountaineer Falls, Crush overtakes me. I follow him to nearby Mountaineer Shelter, a nice and new-looking shelter just off the Trail. There is no camping space immediately adjacent to the shelter but there is signed camping to the north and south. I am considering spending the night here, and Crush is certainly not moving on so close to dark. I break out my food for some dinner and fetch the shelter register to note my arrival.With all the zero days I have had, it is of great interest for me to check the shelter registers and see what familiar faces have passed through recently. I find an entry from Roosta written two days ago here. Roosta has lost his sleeping pad, and offers reward to anybody who can return it to him before he reaches Damascus and buys a replacement. I was planning to return the pad to its owner without any incentive, and it amuses me to find that this is Roosta's. I accept the challenge of catching Roosta and returning his pad to him.I announce in the register, and aloud to Crush, that I have Roosta's sleeping pad and will push on with a night hike to shorten the distance between us. Crush is disappointed to see that he will be alone in the shelter tonight but an empty shelter doesn't seem like a terrible fate on this mild night. I pack up my barely unpacked things and push forward. This is the first time I have initiated a night hike after the sun has set, with prior night hikes starting an hour or more before sunset. I move out from the shelter, winding up and down through mild terrain.It winds up being a short night hike. Starting after dark does not lend me the same drive I have had on past hikes. In addition, I simply have less time until I have to wake up tomorrow morning and continue hiking. I contemplate sleeping on a bench the guidebook indicates is near a side trail to a hostel, but this bench is far too small to be feasible. The hostel it is, and I easily find the side trail next to a sign indicating the distance to Springer Mountain. It is a very out of place sign, but I surmise that the hostel owner put it there because he cannot advertise his hostel on parkland.I come upon the hostel abruptly, right on the edge of the woods. I drop my pack on the covered deck of the bunkhouse, not wanting to wake any possible guests at this late hour of 2200. The hostel is silent except for a lone dog, which growls for a moment before consenting to a scratch behind the ear. The house, where I am to register, is quiet and dark. Not daring to disturb,I return to my gear and get set to sleep on the deck. I lay out the borrowed sleeping pad and my sleeping bag, change to camp clothes, and get to sleep.Peace,