Date: 2004-03-30
From: Bailey Gap Shelter

To: Rice Field Shelter
Miles today: 16.2
Weather: moderate rain

Water5:30PM - Rice Field ShelterTough day today. Will finish this entry in town tomorrow.3/31, 9PM - BlacksburgIn the middle of the night at Bailey Gap the wind came up strong. The last time this happened, at Jennings Creek, the weather turned cold throughout the following, and my water froze the following day before I descended into town. I wondered if this blow presaged anything.The wind died down, and when I began to wake up at 5 I could see stars, and thought I would have a fine day. But a half hour later the stars were gone and by the time I set off a bit before 7, the sky was overcast.The walk started off with a DOWN, rather unusual. But as I was replenishing water, I felt that rain was about to begin, even though it was warm. The rain soon came, but gently. A decision needed to be made about putting on rain gear. I often walk without rain gear in the rain, since by its nature rain gear impedes the escape of moisture from your body, causing heat buildup and sweat. So whether you have on the rain gear or not, you're going to get wet.There was another consideration, water. At that point my water containers were filled to capacity, but where I was headed there was a long stretch where water was far from the Trail and hard to find. So to the extent that the body is cooled by rain water, that is water I would not have to drink.So, I continued to walk without rain gear as the rain little by little got stronger. When I got to the shelter at the bottom of my one long climb for the day (Pine Swamp, a stone shelter with a dirt floor, but with a fireplace inside and double-decker platforms on either side), I stopped for a break and pondered the rain gear question again. I generally don't like wearing rain gear up a steep long slope, because I'm sure to be drenched in sweat at the top. So I continued to hike with no rain gear.When I got to the top I finally put on rain gear, but was drenched anyway, by the rain. By this time the temperature had dropped and a wind had come up, so the rain gear was functioning as a windbreaker. I was hiking cold (particularly since I had sent home my winter gloves in Waynesboro because they were causing my hands to swell, and I only had my summer gloves with me) but still felt that my core body heat was OK.So now the decision I was continuously evaluating was whether to add another insulating layer, or save it to warm up with when I reached the next shelter. By that time I had abandoned my earlier plan to camp three or four miles before that shelter. But that meant walking 12 miles from the previous shelter. So I continued to walk in order to keep up my body heat, not stopping to eat except for the GORP I carry in a bottle hanging on my chest. For most of that time the wind was coming from behind my left shoulder, which was fortunate so I didn't have to face directly in to it often.So I continued to walk like that for hours. I didn't know hw many hours, since my watch stopped again 10 minutes after I left that first shelter. But I knew I was making good time because the trail was pretty flat, and I expected to reach the shelter around 3:30 at my regular pace.In the end I in fact reached the shelter a bit before 3:30 without putting on another insulating layer. But psychologically it was a long hike. As soon as I reached the shelter I changed into the dry underwear I always carry and put on all the other dry clothes I had (including an extra pair of socks for gloves), and crawled into my sleeping bag for half an hour until I began to feel comfortable. Then I prepared a hot meal and a hot water bottle for my sleeping bag, and went to bed early.Thinking back, I would have done better putting on my rain gear at the first shelter, or earlier, and moderating my pace going up the big climb, so I didn't soak myself with sweat. Here is a case where my relationship with time, realizing I would have have a longer hike than planned, caused me to resist slowing down, and to make a decision that should have gone the other way.On the other hand, resisting putting on the next insulating layer was probably the right one, since I would have had to work a lot harder bringing my body into thermal equilibrium at the shelter if that layer had gotten wet.Despite the impression I have given above, I did stop several times on my march between shelters. That's because I met 7 NoBo thru-hikers in that stretch. First there were Peanut and Pickle. We were switching shelters: they were going from Rice Field (Peanut raved about the sunset there) to Bailey Gap.Then I met five hikers who were traveling as a group, but who were spread out over two hours along the Trail. The first was Dozer, who gave me an overly optimistic estimate of how close I was to the shelter. Then came Drifter and Chainsaw, who gave me some helpful information about how to spot the shelter in the dense fog we were in. Then came Cactus, traveling with his Chocolate Lab, who gave a much more accurate estimate of the distance to the shelter, and finally A-1 who backed up Cactus's estimate and clarified Chainsaw's infrmation. (By the way, I have reached my memory limit for names. Any days in the future when I meet more than 7 NoBos I will not give a complete list of names. And those days are surely coming.)The one thing that I noticed about meeting the hikers coming the other way was that after each meeting my spirits were lifted considerably.Now, the house is quiet, and I have many things planned for tomorrow, and it is clearly past the hikers' bedtime. So . . .See you on down the Trail