Date: 2017-05-22
From: Luray, VA

To: Gravel Springs Hut
Miles today: 14.4
Weather: overcast clouds

The hike started out pleasantly enough, the weather was fine, Alison of the Open Arms hostel dropped me off at the trailhead around 9 a.m., and I had a relatively short distance of 14 miles in mind. About midday I stopped at the Elkwallow Wayside to gorge on burgers and to resupply my energy bars (I easily eat a dozen or more of these per week -- yuck!). I even tarried long at the picnic tables outside of the Wayside, not wanting to get to the shelter too early in the day. Although I killed about two hours there, I still arrived at Gravel Springs Hut with plenty of daylight remaining. Already at the hut, sitting about a picnic table in front of the shelter, were several hikers and a trail runner, whose trailname was Blissful. One of the hikers, named ForceFlex, surprised me by knowing my trailname, though I never met him before. I read your trail journal, he said, and I recognize you from your photos. I turned crimson, though I'm not sure why. ForceFlex was doing a short hike with his wife Curly Turtle, a practice run for their planned thru-hike in 2018. I excused myself to set up my tent, but promised to return to the table to eat dinner and to learn more about the folks who followed my progress.Tent sites in the SNP are quite distant from the shelter, 50 to 100 yards or so. After much deliberation, I chose a site about 10 feet from the trail runner's and set up camp. With my entire food bag, stove, and water bottle, I returned to shelter and cooked my meal (Mountain House Chicken Teriyaki, my go to dinner). It was a terrific social hour, with much joking and laughter. I told ForceFlex about a 2012 thru-hiker I had met on the trail, who had kept a trail journal. One of his readers waited for him to reach a particular section of the trail, greeted him there, and surprised him and his companions with trail magic. After hearing this remarkable tale, ForceFlex simply said, Your trail journal hasn't risen to that level. Oh well, I tried.In the midst of one of the jolliest times on the trail, Blissful, the trail runner, hurriedly approached me. El Vago, there's a rip in your tent, she said. My initial thought was that a seam in the fly had torn open, perhaps from overtightening it atop the tent poles. Instead I found a new door in the side of my tent, where a door ought not to be. I carefully looked through this opening to make sure that whatever animal did the demolition was not still lurking inside. Once I knew the marauder was not about, I surveyed the mess. The creature had torn another, smaller hole on the other wall of the tent. A ziploc bag with my journal inside had teeth marks, as did a ziploc with my phone recharger and other electronics. There also was a bag with toothpaste in it, left entirely untouched.Meanwhile, the other hikers were checking their own tents to see if they, too, had a troublesome visitor. Blissful found small bear pawprints on the fly of her. Fortunately, the bear decided not to go for a deeper look. Another woman, Barb, did have damage. The bear had tried to drag her air mattress out of her tent, which was a considerable distance from Blissful's and my own. The mattress was ruined. I don't know about the condition of her tent.Blissful had seen enough and requested that everyone break down their tents and sleep in the shelter. That night ten of us slept in a hut designed for eight. Blissful called for a Ranger to evacuate her from the site, leaving us a bit more sleeping space. Have a pile of rocks nearby to throw at the bear should it come to the shelter, she said. And after those words of reassurance, the Ranger's truck spirited her away.That evening was electric. We talked well past hiker midnight (it got dark). I was moved by the comraderie. People who I had never before met were there to help. After I made it known that the bear had poked a hole in my air matress and coincidentally chewed my matress repair kit, I immediately had more offers of repair kits than I could possibly need. A group of strangers had become close knit friends because of our common predicament. We were told the site would be closed until the bear could be captured and relocated. You may have scored big, little bear, but the game's not over yet.