Date: 2014-10-25
From: Waynesboro

To: Pearisburg
Miles today: 20.0
Weather: overcast clouds

Emotions are getting the best of me these days, as I had to say goodbye to old friends Frankie and Michelle, who met me at a trailhead in Catawba, and to my fellow SOBO Rhody up on McAfee knob. I have been anxious over the approach of winter, and contemplating getting off the trail and finishing in the spring, but friends like these restored my (non-existent) soul, and I am determined to do the 700 miles left on the AT this year, come what may.Here's how I got here:10/10, the Friday starting week 16 of my hike, was spent at the Paul C Wolfe Shelter at SOBO mile marker 1332.5. A chilly night--the first of several to come, and as I had mailed my tarp-tent home in Waynesboro, I was shelter hopping from here on. Arbor and Wolfburger stayed here 8 days prior to me, and it's crazy to think that I had even stayed remotely close to these kids since Maine back in June.10/11 Maupin Field Shelter (m 1348.3) A rocky 16 miles in the rain and fog to the foot of The Priest. A troop of 60 boy scouts camping around the shelter threatened to ruin my mood, until they discovered an extra porterhouse steak which I charbroiled over a small fire and wolfed down, guaranteeing a good sleep. Trail Magic!!!10/12 Seeley-Woodworth Shelter (m 1368.7)20 of the worst miles ever, over the cloudy Priest, and having shook myself to sleep in the cold and damp last night, naked with my soaked clothes draped over my damp bag to dry somewhat. I made it to Salt Log Gap, where Oma, the owner of the new Three Springs Hostel some 10 miles east of Buena Vista, saved me from this nasty weather. Her partner, Marsha, and I hit it off, and I helped her set up a generator after we lost power in the middle of the night. The roof leaked everywhere, but they have plans to restore this gorgeous house just off the trail, at Cow Camp gap (m 1378.9). The deluge continued for 3 days, and Rhody, K2, Sunshine Siesta (nevermind him...GRR) Snack and Potato (SOBO students from ME who started July 9) were held up here in frustration until the 14th. Josh, a local kid, did rescue us and shuttled us into gorgeous Lexington for a decent meal and better ale in Macadoos. The VMI was in the background, red-brick ante-bellum architecture foreground. Stonewall Jackson and R.E. Lee and his horse rest in peace here. 10/15 Brown Mtn Creek Shelter (1384.5 or 800.8) having walked with K2 and Rhody to this beautiful stream and location of a former freed slave village; well-placed kiosks and crumbling foundations tell an interesting story that one would never learn of without hiking this section of the AT.10/16 John's Hollow Shelter (m. 1402.8 or 782.5)18 rewarding miles with Rody and K2 mostly over Bluff Mtn in the clearing wind behind the warm front. Met a local, Moccassin, who thru-hiked with his wife back in 1992--they were the ones who found the dead bodies of two murdered hikers in a (rebuilt, re-named) shelter I stayed at some weeks ago!--while he sat on the sublime ridges of Big Rocky Row overlooking the James River and processed the day's passing of his 92 year-old father. He works to maintain this section of the trail with the Natural Bridge Trail Club--may the gods bless them one and all--and walked with us down to the shelter to share a fire and his thoughts on thru-hiking, his son (also a thru-hiker) and on passing through life in general. That night I thought a lot of my own Dad and how much he already gave and continues to give me.   A surprise text from Randy--the very same Randy, sans Debbie, that I met in the Free State Hiker's Hostel in Smithsburg, MD--meant that I would getting a break from the trail to attend a beer festival in Damascus for a couple of days. Rhody joined me last minute, so we said heartfelt goodbyes to K2 by the James River crossing. Thus two nights were spent in Woodchuck Hostel in Trailtown, USA, a funky little town with lame cell service but lots of support. Chuck is a great host, and local shuttler Gypsy Dave--who was at Woodstock, fyi--and his gracious wife fed us a home-cooked feast and demonstrated that Damascus isn't just a trail-days circus. We went to the Old Mill to hear the Rose Sisters play bluegrass and country, and Dave tried to show us old-timey banjo techniques at his place. I picked up an extra base-layer at the terrific outfitters in town, and then we headed back a couple of hundred miles north to where Randy had originally scooped us up. Randy is such a cool trail-angel, and sectioner, and I hope I can re-pay his generosity on the Florida Trail someday. The break from the trail was hazardous, as it was tempting to keep walking south and out of VA, but Rhody and Randy kept me on track.10/19, Sunday, Matt's Creek Shelter (m. 1406.7 or 778.6) A massive 2.6 miles from the James River "Footebridge"--the longest on the AT--and where Josh of Buena Vista makes a surprise showing having walked with a local group of ladies. I saw a 4' rattler by the privy and had to warn everyone who arrived there to keep their eyes open. In the morning, the eastern timber resident had curled up at the base of a tree right in front of the privy; luckily he is cold-blooded, and it was bloody cold, so we kept a peaceable kingdom. "Kid" a young and solo female SOBO who started August 3 (WTF???) was in late and out early, knocking out 35 miles per day on cold food. (Am enjoying "The Fuck-Up" by Arthur Nersesian put out by MTV Books (?) as it brings me back to NY in the 80s.)10/20 Cornelius Creek Shelter (m. 1424.4)17 hilly but beautiful miles took us over Apple Orchard Mtn at 4,200' with its massive FAA tower atop. Thunder Hill Ridge and wilderness area offers huge rhododendron groves. "I don't read books" Roadrunner, last seen in NH, caught up and introduced me to two other SOBOs who left in mid July. "Monoloke" and "The Runaway," two recent UNF grads who blog at "a home in the woods" on tumbler, were to become fast friends of mine and dragged my butt all the way to Daleville. They're really great people and lifted my sagging spirits; the Virginia blues or what have you mos' def' has me in its grip, and I fear that I am way too cold for these altitudes at this time of the season when I consider the 5- and 6-thousand footers in front of me come November. I did learn a valuable lesson last night, having covered my head in my sleeping bag and woken up with it dampened by my breath's condensate. 10/21 Bobblets Gap Shelter (m 1442.8 or 742.5 left)A relatively easy 18 miles, down off the high ridge and over Fork Mtn, and back up to the Blue Ridge Pkwy running from Cove Mtn to the well-known Peaks of Otter area; great vistas overlooking isolated showers in the valley and on nearby ridges. (I will import images of many of these sight from bookface to here at some point, I promise.) The Bryant Ridge shelter, where Rhody headed off to, was much nicer, Monoloke, Runaway, and I were to discover after the fact. Still, we had a fire, and planned tomorrow's BBQ feast in Daleville. 10/22 Howard Johnson Express, Daleville (m. 1461)Rhody and I shared a room in the hiker-friendly hotel yards off the trail. Magellan was here, while M&R ran off with some friends to Roanoke. Early in the afternoon, I froze at Fulhardt Knob shelter over a lukewarm cup of tea, but Monoloke challenged me to a race to town--Runaway had gone on to 3 pigs bbq--and the 4 miles off the ridge and across cow pastures zipped by. The exposed ridges even at 2-3000' are simply a different climate, and once you're sweaty and wet, the western winds here drop your temp quickly.10/23 Sleep Inn, Princeton, (appx m. 1481)This was perhaps the single most rewarding day of my hike since NH. With Rhody in tow, I walked the 20 miles over Tinker Cliffs and McAfee Knob and down the ridgeline to Rt 311 near Catawba. The columnar outcrops of granite and stark ridgelines were breath-taking, and I rarely put my camera away. As the light faded, Rhody and I hugged in the cold at the top, and thanked each other for being there to share such a singular experience. If you ever have the opportunity to do this section, grab it! I had fallen badly--the trail was deep with drifted leaves and I failed to spot a rock--half-way through the day, in the most epic face-plant seen since Maine. (My thigh still smarts, but the baby jesus bruise we hoped to capitalize on hasn't appeared yet.) Miraculously, Michelle followed through with a promise to find me, and we made hasty plans via text messages to meet up near Catawba that very evening. I had to hobble the last 9 miles, as each lift of my right leg issued in an ouch. I was rushing to 311, overcome with joy yet mixed with apprehension, as I could only text Michelle GPS coordinates of the trailhead and had no clue where she was coming from or going to. The last few miles were almost over-whelming, and when I saw Michelle at the lonely road-crossing--Frankie had walked south on the trail looking for me, lol--I nearly lost my shit. I was just so humbled that they would go so far out of their way to visit me, and am so desperately nostalgic I suppose, that I am choking up now at the mere memory of it.(The famous Homeplace Restaurant nearby looked beautiful, but I never made it inside; Miami's thrashing of VCU in college football had filled all the hotels around Roanoke, so we had to bail.) Rhody ended up stealth camping near the Knob as a partial solar eclipse (along with incredible views east and west) was in store. I offered him the emergency blanket that I grabbed out of the hiker box in HoJo's, but he is well-prepared for a night in his tent on the ridge. Magellan stopped short of the summit in a shelter. Since then, I have spent two nights in a relatively luxurious hotel with Michelle and Frankie, house-mates of some ten years ago. My thigh is largely healed, and I am re-supplied and rejuvenated. We toured a coal mine in Blakely (or was it Bluefield?), where a 28-inch seam of bituminous coal some 165' under the mountain occupied several generations of backbroken miners, saw a bad Brad Pitt movie, and ate comfort food in Bob Evans and steaks at Outback...never has chain food tasted so good. They've dropped me back to the trail, and I will march on to Pearisburg. In some ten days, Karyssa will join me, in Marion, with some much-needed winter clothes and boots (Oboz Baybee!!!) and my beloved Hannah and Molly are talking of coming to NC in the middle of next month. Seriously and sincerely, I fear I may never be able to let them leave my side once I hold them again. Of course I must, but this trip is teaching me the infinite value of such relations, both the natural ones such as that between a father and his child and the voluntary ones that come to be between friends, on and off the trail. I hope I am worthy of the lesson, and that I can come to possess, for them, a fraction of the value that they have to me.