Date: 2007-05-25
From: Pickle Branch Shelter

To: VA 311
Miles today: 12.6

I've had long distance hikers tell me that the AT in Virginia is one long green tunnel. True, the leaves on the forest's canopy are fully unfurled, and I'm considering downgrading from SPF 45 to 30 because of it. But, we've had some great walking that goes well beyond your everyday chlorophyl packed punch of boredom. This morning, we got to check out Dragon's Tooth, a hulking behemoth of stone on the ridgeline (oddly overlooking one of the more tasteless McMansions I've seen on the trail so far). We climbed up, around and over this monolith, stopping to stretch out in its perfectly bum cradling crevices to soak up sun and stare at the valley below. I used my lack of proper health insurance as an excuse not to climb to the very top, while Bad Influence claimed sanity as his. The Gourmet Boys perched at the top and made the observation that a fall from the Tooth would probably result in disasters not covered by Blue Cross Blue Shield (unless there's a death and dismemberment clause in the policy somewhere). We were on a mission to meet up with the yellow blazing wonders, Moon Goat and Lala, at VA 311 where we would be whisked off to Moon Goat's lake house. I'm not sure if it was the heat or the anticipation of the weekend, but the final 6 or so miles to Rt. 311 were tough. The trail went up a hundred feet. Then down. Then up again. We weren't fully running the ridge the whole, nor were we routed around the mountainous obstacles. This wasn't the first bit of trail that I've viewed as cruel and illogical. In Tennessee, one of the knobs had a trail which ran straight uphill only to take a sharply acute switchback heading straight back down. I was walking up the hill when I saw Bad Influence walking down mere feet away from me. I should point out that there was no view at the top either. Sadism must run rampent with trail designers!We did finally make it to 311. Right before the parking lot, I found trail magic courtesy of Buttercup's mom. By the time I came down off the trail, I had a cold soda in my hand and was well on my way to forgetting the unsubtle cruelties of irrational trail design.There was a communication mishap between the Gourmet Boys which left Spaceman waiting in the woods for Forrest for nearly 2 hours. Evidentally, Forrest lost the blazes coming of the Tooth, shouted something to the effect of being lost, bushwacked to the road, and yellow blazed to the 311 parking lot, while Spaceman combed the mountian for him, expecting to see him lying on the ground with his head popped open like a bloody grape. Spaceman showed up at the parking lot to see a rested yellow-blazing Forrest sipping beer with the rest of us. The moral of the story? Once again, no good deed goes unpunished. While Spaceman waited on a Forrest who didn't show up, we sat in the shade and drank cold beer. We told Spaceman that we're going to make a shirt for him which says "Today, I will be selfish".Moon Goat's dad picked us up, strapped our packs to the roof of his SUV and stuffed us stinky hikers in. Destination: the family's weekend home at Smith Mountain Lake. The house has all of the amenities, boat house, boat, docks, jet skis, wide screen TV's, bars on every floor. It's so large, that I got lost in it while looking for the bathroom. As a poor kid, the concept of a "second home" blows my mind. While getting a tour of the house, I looked at Forrest, who had also grown up poor. In reference to our backgrounds, I mouthed the words "government cheese" while he said "subsidized school lunch", and we gave each other a high five. The Thompsons are incredible hosts though, and have helped us to acclimate to the posh surroundings.