Date: 2010-03-31
From: Camped north of Wilbur Lake Road

To: Camped nort of Iron Mountain Shelter
Miles today: 10.0
Weather: clear sky

"What is told in the ear of a man is often heard 100 miles away." ~Chinese ProverbA short while after I had snuggled down into my sleeping bag, and the last glow from the sunset had disappeared, a light began to grow off to the east. After a bit, a nearly-full moon rose above my horizon. As it climbed higher it shone down into the area I was sleeping. I enjoyed the light, but then decided it was making it hard to sleep. Out came my big neck gaiter. It serviced nicely as an oversized blindfold. Other than repeatedly slipping down, and then crawling back up, the small slope of the campsite, I slept well.I was mostly packed up the next morning when I realized that I hadn't seen my small cannister stove. I checked and rechecked. No stove. I knew I had seen it the night before, but I'd been in a hurry when setting up camp... I'd tried to be careful to pick everything up while it was still light, but maybe I missed it. I went back over everywhere I'd been. The old, dried leaves were deep, but the stove was big enough that I should be able to find it.No luck.   So I took everything back out of the pack. There at the bottom was the stove. Sigh.I repacked everything. I grabbed a bar from my foodbag and started off, gnawing on the bar as I went.From the narrow ridge I could look down on Watauga Lake. Mist covered the entire lake, but not the surrounding Forrest. It looked as if the whole lake had turned to fog and was ready to float away.The day got warmer, and I began to worry about water. The last water I'd gotten was at the shelter the evening before, and my supply was running low. The higher temp, combined with the work of hauling the heavy pack made me thirsty.The map showed a water source not too far ahead. Indeed, there was water in a small bottom where the trail turned, but there were only a couple of small, stagnant-looking pools. I decided to wait for the water at Vandeventer Shelter, even though it was still a ways off. Beggars can't be choosers, but sometimes hikers can be.At Vandeventer Shelter a young couple was just preparing to leave. It was the young woman's first backpacking trip. Better late than never, she observed. They had hiked in, spent the night and were now headed back. They mentioned a group they had shared the shelter with. It included two boys, one of which had lost a tooth the day before, they said. After they left I made the steep .3 mile trip down to fetch water. I filled both the bladder and the water bottle. After the water had been purified with Aquamira I drank quite a bit to rehydrate myself and ate some. I walked on in the warm sunshine wishing that the trees had leafed out to give me some shade, but they hadn't. When I got tired found the shade of the trunk of a big tree enough to give me some relief. I took off my pack, boots and socks. My socks were damp with sweat, so I laid them in the sun to dry. My pack made a nice back rest so I leaned back and closed my eyes. As the sun swung around, the narrow strip of shade shifted. So, from time to time, I did too. After a couple of times of shifting everything to keep me in the shade and the boots and socks in the sun, I reassembled myself and continued on.At one point when I was negotiating a blowdown, a butterfly landed just inches from my hand. I had only a fleeting look at it. It looked like a swallowtail in size and shape, but its colour was different than one's I've seen at home. Instead of black, this one was a rich, warm brown with a fringe of light yellow and some blue markings. Later a flock of smaller, orange butterflies (Painted Ladies?) played through.The black flies were also out, divebombing my hairline and glasses. I didn't have too much trouble with them biting, but really disliked when they would get trapped between my eyes and the lenses of my glasses.Subby, the thruhiker I'd met the night before passed me. He planned to have a short day, stopping at Iron Mountain Shelter. That way he'd be in position to do the "Damascus 26" - the 26 mile hike in to Damascus, Virginia in a single day. When I arrived at the shelter Subby was there along with "The Brothers," an older set and a younger set. We all chatted over dinner.I mentioned that I'd heard that one of the younger brothers had lost a tooth. The boys seemed surprised and wanted to know how I knew. One of the adults immediately knew I had heard it from the young couple that had shared the previous shelter with them.So we talked about how fast communication travels up and down the Trail. It would seem that it would take a long time, but actually gossip, news and rumors fly up and down the trail going from one hiker to another, written into shelter registers, passed on by cellphones, email, and even like this bit of tooth-loss news, posted on the internet. If I were looking to hide away somewhere, the Trail is NOT where I would go.When I'd finished my dinner, I repacked, bid my fellow hikers adieu, and got back on the trail to make a bit more distance before dark - maybe enough that the others wouldn't hear my snores.I passed the old stone memorial to Nick Grindstaff, a local hermit, who "lived alone and died alone." I paused to wonder what it would be like to live alone out here instead of just hiking through.At the next water source, a short distance on, I collected what I hoped would be enough to get me through the night and on to the next source in the morning.I found a small campsite - with a level place just large enough for my sleeping bag, so I stopped and set up camp. The ridge was narrow enough that I could see off both sides. To the west there was still a bit of light glowing in the sky, even though the sun was down, but on the other side the lights of a town twinkled in the dusk.As I relaxed in my sleeping bag the last light faded and the stars seemed to leap out of the darkness above. The flashing lights of airplanes moved across the sky. An owl queried, "who, who-Who?"While enjoying the night sounds and the view of the stars, I dozed off. I awoke with a start to a loud noise. I think my own snore had woken me up. The moon had risen, and the night was no longer so dark. Not as many stars were still visible in the brighter sky. I took off my glasses, tucked them into one of my Crocs for safekeeping, and rolled over onto my side.