Date: 2013-06-02
From: mi 952.7- bluff view off AT

To: Jim and Molly Denton Shelter
Miles today: 17.6
Weather: light rain

From the stealth camp spot on the bluff, where I had reached in darkness the day before, I was under 9 miles from the northern boundary of SNP. For those who thought they had a smooth stroll the entire way through SNP, the north end is quite rocky, with abrupt ups and downs. On the average, however, the AT from mile 952.7 was a descent into Front Royal, where I had planned to have lunch, resupply, and get back on the trail. By mid morning, I had reached US522 after traversing a short boardwalk. The AT traverses a tall chain link fence that extended into the forest and bounded the AT on one side for a good lenght-perhaps 1,500-ft. The overcast skies once again, appeared threatening. A storm was brewing for the afternoon. I had called Heart Rock when I reached this tall fence, and part of our conversation revolved around the storms to the north of me, which radar had shown to head my direction. US522 is a busy, sinuous, narrow-shouldered highway. I stuck my hitch-hiking thumb out, but realized it was futile to even think someone would stop, without even a shoulder to stop on! I began a long 4-mile hike west along the highway into Front Royal, reaching the first major shopping center directly off the highway by early noon. I ordered a large pizza, salad, and soda, which I inhaled much the way my chocolate lab Chako inhales his food back home. When I was satiated, I hobbled over to the gas station market at the opposite end of the shopping center parking area, and purchased alcohol for my stove. I was regretting having to walk 4 miles of highway back to the trailhead. After wandering a jagged path across the vast parking lot and asking a few folks if I could get a ride, I spotted a shuttle van making its way around the periphery of the lot along the store fronts. I hiked briskly towards the shuttle. I told the shuttle driver that I needed to get to the AT. He said that this was out of his route, however, because business was slow, he'd be happy to drive me there. The fee, 0.50! I felt generous handing him a buck and in no time, the long highway I had hiked in, was behind me. The two hikers I had passed heading southbound near the fence, were back at the parking area when the shuttle arrived and were grateful for the timing. They got scared of the storm predicted for the afternoon and wanted to head back to a motel for the day. I headed across the highway and followed the AT parallel to the highway a short distance. Only moments after starting my afternoon hike north from US522, the ominous dark clouds gave way to heavy rain, lightning and thunder. I was drenched in minutes! I hiked rapidly, ascending a moderately inclined slope which transformed to a small river. Flickers of lightning illuminated the trail as thunder claps pierced my ear drums. The AT meandered through dense forest and flatter terrain once it reached the ridge top. I made it to the Jim and Molly Denton Shelter by late afternoon. Several hikers were either cooking or sleeping in the shelter. The most memorable character, was an older man that called himself "Paul of Bunion"...I believe. He was quite obnoxious. The afternoon tranquility was pierced by teenage pop music blaring out of his transistor radio next to his bag. I scoped out the solar shower, which was apparently not working. It was essentially a large, orange barrel supported by a frame, that gravity fed water to a hose directly under it. It was creative but left lots of room for embellishment! It was the first shelter to also have a gazebo structure separate from the shelter, with a picnic bench and stone-masonry-fire pit on one side of it. I cooked dinner on the bench as darkness fell. A young lady from England, who's name was something like "fidget" arrived near darkness and pitched her tent in the rain, out of site from the shelter. An older man who was section hiking, named "Underdog" joined me at the table and generously offered to share his water, which he stored in one of those 1 gallon collapsible bags. He was fascinated by the workings of my simple soda can stove. During my cooking, "Paul of Bunion" walked over in his cheap work boots and cotton attire to join us in cooking. He was planning to demonstrate his expertise in cooking over the fire. I wished him luck, since the wood was thoroughly saturated, and the rain was pissing on the fire pit. After carving the bark off some kindling and forming a teepee with the sticks, he started a smoldering small fire and tossed is blackened cooking pot onto of the smoking wood. Inside the pot, was a salty slurry of water and top ramen soup. I don't recall ever seeing a flame...just smoke! Needless to say, I wasn't impressed. He took his pot off the smoking twigs and proceeded on crunching on the noodles and sipping the lukewarm brine pretending to enjoy his meal next to mine. I was exhausted, and despite the teenage pop music, I fell asleep on the platform-loft above.