Date: 2013-05-14
From: Campsite by footbridge

To: Garden Mountain ridge stealth camp
Miles today: 13.3

Omigoodness, I slept like the dead. I had anxious dreams, one that I was teacher in a classroom full of rowdy, screaming kids, and I couldn't get them to settle down. Second dream, I was supposed to prepare some event but failed to do so, and it was a miserable failure. I was so relieved to wake up and find that I was on the AT. I actually slept until 7:30, which is really late for me. Chad and Dreamer were awake in their tent. I packed up everything quickly so as to not hold them up. But even then, we still didn't break camp until 9:30. Whoa. This late start actually made me a bit nervous. I hope we don't make a habit of it. Mornings are my favorite time to hike. There was a decent climb right off the bat. We slowly worked out way up it. Virginia isn't going to let us off easy. The rhododendron and mountain laurel look like they want to start blooming. Fingers crossed! We got to Lick Creek, and there was a large inviting pool of water swirling under the bridge. It must be utilized. We shed our shoes, and I walked in as deep as I dared (calf deep). I have a really tough time passing up bodies of water. All too soon, we were back at their car. We had an early lunch as to delay the good-bye. Chad had to peel off back to work. Dreamer and I sorted our food. She's going to take some of the dehydrated meals I've prepared. I was way over-zealous in my belief of how many would be acceptable to carry at one time. Luckily, she likes them, so we'll split them so I don't have to carry them all or leave them behind. It's a win-win situation! Also, I transferred a bottle of Chianti into my two coveted plastic water bottles. Many evenings when I get into camp, I think how nice it would be to have a sip of wine. Now I will. We'll just have to see if this qualifies as a good idea or bad idea. We bid farewell to Chad and headed up into the woods. It was a long climb that opened into a hill top pasture. I got their first and unpacked my tent to dry out. I had some snacks and sent some emails. Dreamer made it top the top, and we hung out of a little while longer. The pasture land continued and rose up and out of the tree line. Suddenly vistas opened all around us. It was clear, and the ridges faded in different shades of blueish green. They had a sharp backbone and ribs that rippled down the sides. It reminded me of Waimea Canyon on Kaui, but in Virginia. A hunter with a shotgun slung over his shoulder came walking down the hill towards us. When he reached us, he dropped to his knees and set his gun down beside him. He owned the adjacent land and was out looking for turkeys. He was a nice fellow, and he asked about our hike. Sometimes you forget all the life that happens a few feet to either side of the trail.We continues up and passed through a corridor of trees. The trail opened into an expansive grassy area on top of the hill. There was Chestnut Knob Shelter, a beautiful, sturdy cabin of a shelter, complete with closing door. It was too early in the day to stop for good, but we wanted to stretch our time there. We decided to have an early dinner and savor the views. The tree line in front of the shelter had been notched out to allow for a view over the valley of farms below. I counted 8 silos.  You could see the bright red barns and tin roofs. There was a large field of yellow, mustard or rap-seed?. We set up our stoves and cooked dinner. The wind was blowing like crazy, but luckily we didn't start any fires. I sipped my beat up bottle of wine. Spirits were high.Finally an hour later, we were ready to move. We passed 50/50. I hadn't seen him since he told me my toe blisters were infected. I just assumed he was half way to Maine already. But he, too, had to take some time off. It's a lot more common than I realized. I guess I just took my time off earlier than most. Dreamer and I made it down a gnarly rock-strewn hill. At the bottom we were disheartened by the water source. It looked like a mud puddle. It was a mud puddle. Fortunately, we spotted blue blazes on a tree down the road and realized that there was better water to be had. Hallelujah!We climbed Garden Mountain. It was getting late in the day, and we knew we weren't going to be able to get all the way across the ridge before dark. We crawled and picked our way over the rocky outcrops. Flat spaces and established campsites were non-existent. With one finger's width of sunlight left, we came across a flattish area, large enough for two tents. We cleared the twigs and rocks away and set up the tents. I took several pictures of the setting sun which shone pink and steely blue. The clouds on the horizon looked like they were full of neon gas. We hung the bear rope, more to keep the mice out of our tents than the bears. An owl hooted in a nearby tree. As soon as the sun was gone, the wind started howling. The trees were squeaking, leaves were rustling. The rain fly on my tent filled like a parachute. I wrote in my journal, and my pen ran out of ink. I felt proud. To date I've filled 5 journals and started a 6th, and I've completely exhausted the ink in one pen. Good thing I've carried a pencil for the last almost 600 miles!