Date: 2021-04-20
From: Tye River

To: ReidÃÂÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂs Gap
Miles today: 10.7
Weather: scattered clouds

So, interesting night and morning. Go back a few days: met a hiker in Glasgow who was getting off trail due to having a run in with aggressive dogs at a shelter by the Tye River (not where I was camping). So just before midnight I woke to screaming and shouting from up the mountain. Gradually the voices got closer and I at first thought I might have a problem with locals as I was camped right next to the road. A light began to play against my tarp as what I now recognized as a woman¢s voice kept screaming curses and saying ¢I¢m hurt!¢  Then I thought that maybe someone got hurt at the shelter 2.5 miles away and came down for medical assistance. Thankfully, they moved across the suspension footbridge and I eventually got back to sleep. So now it¢s morning, I¢m packed up and heading uphill, but I don¢t want to stop at the shelter for water - just in case - I loaded up 4 liters from the river and headed up the trail. As an afterthought, I tied a rock into my ¢Run The Jewels¢ bandana that my son Alex got for me at Coachella a few years ago. I figured either they were dumb dogs who would need a rock up side the head or they were intelligent dogs who would be impressed and awed by my taste in music, either way, I¢d be covered. Stay with me here.So after a 2 mile climb I came to a trail junction and saw a hiker packing up his tent. I stopped and asked him if he¢d seen or heard any dogs last night. He said no. I started to walk away but stopped and asked him if he heard a screaming woman, he said ¢oh hell yes!¢  He told me a man and a woman stopped just outside his tent and a screaming argument about whether the person in the tent might ¢put them up for the night¢. The man prevailed in saying they were ¢close to the car, let¢s keep walking¢. The hiker told me ¢I¢m a psychiatric nurse and see this all the time. They were tripping mad balls¢. I figured that was some clinical term, so I thanked him for the info and moved on. My supposition is that they went up to Castle Rock to view the sunset, get chemically altered and get up to what Frogs seemingly get up to on top of a mountain. Fear assuaged, I began the 3 mile, 3000 foot climb up past Castle Rock to Three Ridges Mountain (which contrary to my claim yesterday, is only 3965 feet, so it¢s the last 3965 foot mountain will climb before points far, far north). I had set a loose goal to get to top from my camp in 5 hours and made it in 4 and a half. Victory was hard to relish. Sadly, I keep having issues with the frame on my Zpacks Arc Air pack, the sewn in pockets for the braces don¢t seem to be deep enough to hold the pieces in place. So even as I hike they try to worm their way out. Once I get to Waynesboro I¢ll contact them and see what can be done. But I know that if this is happening in my first 100 miles, it doesn¢t bode well. This is fine  Met a hiker going up by the name of Hikes A Lot who I had actually read about in a trail journal like this a few years ago. His original name was Falls A Lot, then Sir Falls A Lot, then hikers decided that was too negative so they changed his trail name. Anyway, he¢s out doing a 43 miles section he hasn¢t done before, then he¢s got about another 400 miles of trail to complete the entire length. Section Hikers are a dedicated lot. Looooong post continues. So after coming down the mountain, I made the decision to head for Rusty¢s Hard Times Hollow Hostel off the Blue Ridge Parkway. Downside: I had a three mile road walk to get there. My hitching skills must leave a lot to be desired as not one of the dozen cars that passed me as I walked did so much as tap their brakes. Even a fellow Michiganain dissed me. This is fine.As I neared the place one guy did stop to ask where I was going. I told him and he said it was just ahead around the corner. This was Rusty. He didn¢t offer me a ride because he wanted me to have a chance to read all of his signs that are posted on the trees as you head down to his place. With a post this long, I¢m going to write something incongruous: words cannot do Rusty of his place justice. I¢m not sure much has changed since he opened it back in 1982 - including the mattresses in the bunkhouse. The mice seem pretty fresh and ready, so there¢s that I spent three hours talking with Rusty and helping him figure out which of his four Polaroid cameras might work. After a half dozen attempts he had a picture of me that he liked and then we spent a while trying to find a stapler that would work from the 6 or so he had so he could post my picture on his ceiling. He¢s an original character and it was the reason I wanted to come here. I don¢t anticipate sleeping much tonight  in the ¢bunkhouse¢ what with the holes in the walls and the pitted patter of little feet, but at least my friend Josh has prepared me for such circumstances. It¢s a one of a kind experience. Be well!