Date: 2013-04-03
From: Sams Gap

To: Mother Miriam's Hostel
Miles today: 0.0
Weather: overcast clouds

(In which I catch a virus overnight and zero off the Trail)Things do not go as planned overnight. Instead of waking rested in the morning and walking or hitching down the road to get breakfast, I find myself very uncomfortable overnight. Eventually this discomfort advances to nausea. Fortunately I am not in my hammock, and when my stomach decides it will be empty I need only sit up and lean clear of my sleeping bag. It feels like it does fully empty itself, and I spend a while tidying myself and trying to feel as clean as I can manage. After this is done, I slide away from where everything happened and struggle to sleep.I do not sleep well, drifting in and out of consciousness. Eventually it becomes light, but I am cold and loath to start moving. With no food in me to restore my energy after yesterday's hiking, I simply have nothing left to get moving. I watch the sunlight creep down the mountainside, waiting for it to fall on my campsite and wishing I had camped higher up. Once it finally reaches me I slowly break camp. I pull down the improvised lean-to and start moving slowly. A small trickle of water is nearby but I don't have the energy to go filter any.A car parks on the paved road below me, and the driver pulls out a day pack. They are hiking my way and offer greeting. I am dead honest in my response when they ask how I am doing. I ask of they have any extra water to get me by until a passing hiker can get me the phone number for the new hostel near here. He has no water but offers me some tea. I take the tea, grateful, and drink some of it. While the guy is chatting with me - he used to live in New Jersey - I feel my stomach revolting. I excuse myself from the conversation as my stomach immediately brings the tea back up.The day hiker wishes me well and moves on as I try to compose myself. He says he is only hiking for a few hours, and if I am still there he might be able to drive me somewhere. A backpacker comes down the Trail as he is leaving, and the two interact with each other. I guess he told her about my predicament, as she fetches the hostel's phone number from the parking lot on the other side of the highway bridge and returns to where I am. This is a hiker I have not encountered before, Spring Turkey. She even calls the hostel for me and asks them to pick me up here at the gap.Spring Turkey tells me that I should meet the hostel shuttle at the parking lot on the other side of the bridge. I was barely packed, but try to do so in earnest now. My ride arrives before I am ready and thankfully drives up to where I am still trying to fit everything into my pack. The car is driven by the hostel owner's son, who hiked a large section of the Trail previously. He gets me to Mother Miriam's hostel, located well off the Trail. It is in an unusual location - a gated community - and has only been open for three weeks so far.When I get there Mother Miriam greets me and inquires on my situation. She used to be a nurse and advises me on getting food back into me, and I decide to take the more expensive private room and spare any other guests from being too close to me. Surprisingly she recommends soda as my best chance on holding something down. I drink a Coke before taking a shower, and am pleased when my stomach retains the soda. A glass of water also stays down, but instead of immediately trying to eat I retreat to the upstairs private room and fall heavily asleep.I sleep for several hours before forcing myself to rouse and go downstairs for food. Woodrow, another New Jersey hiker, has occupied the bunk room and has come down with the same ailment as me. He stayed at Hogback Ridge Shelter last night, and confirms that it was tortuous reaching the road only two miles away. I am glad I had camped right in Sams Gap. I try eating some dinner but find I have no appetite. After eating what I can without forcing anything down, I retreat back upstairs to resume sleeping. It is only around 1900 and I just slept for several hours, but I have no energy to do anything else.Peace,