Date: 2018-01-07
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Miles today: 0.0

This story takes place in May 1997 in Central Virginia, near Roanoke, and the dialogue is verbatim, to the best that I can recollect. I had fallen in with a slow thru-hiker I¢ll call M. (It¢s my habit to use initials or made-up names unless I have permission.) M was trying to drag his hike out so that his completion would coincide with the annual Gathering of the Appalachian Long Distance Hikers Association in October. That suited me just fine, because I was dealing with blisters. We had started the day at Catawba Mountain Shelter, about 18 miles trail south of Daleville. After hiking 1.7 miles, we had breakfast on McAfee Knob, sitting back-to-back for support. McAfee Knob is said to be the most photographed spot on the Appalachian Trail. It¢s a giant rock slab projecting over the Catawba Valley offering a 270-degree panoramic view. On a clear mostly sunny day like this one was, it is breathtaking. We took our time on the ridge walk to the other side of the valley and had lunch on Tinker Cliffs, looking back across toward McAfee Knob. From there, the trail descends gradually to U.S. 220, near the I-81 Interchange, in Daleville, Virginia.  Back then, U.S. 220 was a two-lane highway featuring two motels, a Howard Johnsons on the north side and a Budget Inn on the south side, and a nearby Western Sizzlin¢ Steakhouse. It has built up considerably since 1997. The highway has been four-laned with a turning lane, and just to the west is a major shopping plaza, including a Kroger¢s, a good outfitter, two all-you-can-eat restaurants and Three Li¢l Pigs BBQ. The motel on the south side of U.S. 220 that was a Budget Inn is now an Howard Johnson Express and the old Howard Johnsons is a Super 8. The Western Sizzlin¢ has been transformed into a Pizza Hut, but back in 1997, it was the only place to eat unless you wanted to walk nearly a mile down to the interchange along a busy highway without sidewalks.  M and I took a room at the Howard Johnsons, and before we even showered, we walked over to the Western Sizzlin¢ featuring a giant salad bar. We probably smelled quite ripe and didn¢t complain when we were seated in Siberia, near the kitchen door and bathrooms, away from all the respectable diners. Soon an equally undesirable couple with an infant and a toddler were seated in the adjacent booth. The three- or four-year old girl stood up on her side of the booth and looked at us intently and finally spoke. ¢Are you-all hikers?¢We answered that yes, we were. This pleased the tyke immensely and you could have tied her grin to the top of her head in a bow.  Then she asked, ¢And you carry everything you need on your backs?¢We again answered that yes, we did.  Now the smile was gone and her lower lip started to tremble. She was consternated beyond measure but finally asked, ¢How do you carry your car?¢Welcome to the U.S.A., where even a toddler knows that a car is one of life¢s essentials. After supper, M and I showered, did laundry, and decided to take a zero day there, meaning a day off from hiking. We slept in and the next morning walked down to the Shoney¢s Restaurant at the interchange. It was nearly 10:45 when we got there, and our server told us that they would be taking the breakfast buffet up soon, so we would have get whatever we wanted now. When she came back with our coffees, we each had three or four heaping oval plates from the buffet. She scolded us, that just because they would be taking up the buffet, was no reason for us to take more food than we could possibly eat. We tried to look cowed, but when she came back to refill our coffees, our plates were empty. She looked at us quizzically, and like the little girl the night before, asked, ¢Are you-all hikers?¢¢ She apologized and invited us to stay for the lunch buffet, which we did.  I¢ve stayed at the HoJo Express several times since then and other than the quite passable barbecue at Three Li¢l Pigs, my visits have been unremarkable. I¢ve often wondered what became of the little girl who would be about 24 now. Did she become or marry a Nascar driver, or perhaps take the veil in a cloistered order, never to sit in a car again? I¢ll never know.