Date: 2004-05-24
From: Greasy Creek Gap

To: Mood Shifts
Miles today: 14.8

Around 7:00 a.m., while lying in bed at the Greasy Gap Friendly hostel, I heard a loud noise outside. It was coming from the property of the neighbor across the path. He was operating some kind of a lawn maintenance device, possibly a weed whacker, and was doing it near the edge the property line. Was it merely a lack of consideration that he was operating the machine so early and so close to his neighbor, or was it an example of his campaign of harassment against Connie and Phil, the proprietors of the hostel?As I departed the hostel, Connie escorted me to the path between the two properties. The neighbor's gate was open. The weed whacker had been turned off. The neighbor, a man in his late sixties or early seventies, was positioned several yards beyond his gate, occupying himself with a lawn or garden task. "Good morning," I said to him as I strolled down the path with Connie at my side. The man did not acknowledge my greeting, nor did he look at me.I thanked Connie for her hospitality and hiked up the spur trail back to Greasy Creek Gap and the Appalachian Trail.Today on the trail, my stamina was better thanks to a decent sleep. That said I was still not up to my usual strength. I will need to take a day off at some point.At midday, I ate lunch at a rural road crossing. On either side of the road, the trail sloped downward. Someone had placed several dolls against the trees alongside the path. Further off the trail, a child's Teddy Bear was wedged between the branches protruding from a decaying log. One of the dolls was naked, with its arms and legs extending upwards toward passersby. On the chest of the doll, someone had penned the words, "Len, hold me." The display of dolls seemed creepy.After lunch, I began a long and grueling ascent up Beartown Mountain and Roan Mountain, one of the toughest climbs so far. There is a flat stretch between the two slopes. There, the forest floor was covered with lush grasses. A breeze kept down the bugs. It was a beautiful area.Along that stretch, I met up with Zip Off, Kato, and Samurai, who were slack packing southbound. Kato handed to me the errant bottle of chlorine treatment for water; getting it back was a load off my mind.Zip Off and Kato, who support their hike with personal vehicles, told me that tomorrow they would be hiking northbound. This was good news for me; it would mean the elevation on average would be downward instead of upward.The two mountains were hard to climb, but there were rewards for the effort. Near the top, I was entranced by fir trees with trunks tinged green from moss; it smelled like Christmas. One area among the pines struck me as an ideal place in which to make camp. But I chose to keep hiking because my destination was a shelter located several miles away that other hikers had urged me to stay at. After descending Roan Mountain, I crossed a road at Carver's Gap and ascended Round Bald at 5,826 feet. The bald was covered with a pasture of lush grass, bushes, and small rock formations.Here, a woman was lying in the grass and soaking up some rays. As I passed her, I wished I could also stop and hang out, but the day was getting late, I was tired, and several miles of hiking remained before I reached the shelter. My mood became depressed during these last few miles. Disturbing questions were raised in my mind, such as: Why I am I pushing so hard to reach the shelter? Why hadn't I camped back in that beautiful spot among the pine trees? Am I falling back into the habit of trying to keep up with others? Why am I so exhausted?It is strange how quickly one's mood can shift on the trail. There I was, hiking in a beautiful area, and suddenly feeling down.It was during the evening that I reached my destination, Overmountain Shelter. It is a barn which has been converted to a shelter for hikers. It features sleeping platforms with open views of an idyllic valley. The occupants of the shelter were Stumpknocker, Knuckles, JP, Swedish, and Shannon.Later, a new face arrived, a thru hiker in his early twenties. He put down his backpack, greeted us, and began telling us about long mileage days, usually over twenty miles, that he was racking up. He even mentioned the possibility of thirty plus mile days.Instead of congratulating him, we asked him why he was hiking so hard. We suggested to him that he was missing out on much of what the trail had to offer. I don't think he expected that kind of reaction. On a few occasions during this hike, I have met northbound hikers, usually in their twenties, who have begun their hike much later than me. As soon as they tell me their starting date, I do some mental arithmetic, ascertain their pace of travel, and realize that I probably won't see them again. My mood brightened upon arriving at this scenic place and seeing familiar people.During the evening, JP told me that during a recent thunder storm, a bolt of lightening had struck the ground a few feet away from where he was standing. A resulting burst of air pushed him backwards.This is a shelter with plenty of space. I will sleep here rather than outside in the hammock.