Date: 2007-05-14
From: Pinnacles Picnic Ground

To: Elkwallow Wayside
Miles today: 13.9

I am a firm believer that everything happens for a reason, even the bad, although it's difficult to tell ourselves that truth when going through hard times. Today started out as any other day, a bit colder perhaps than my 40-degree bag could handle, but with a little more pain than usual in my right ankle. I prepared to hike just like every morning on the trail, hoping the pain would wear off with the morning chill. The first few hours blessed us with deer visiting our campsite, great rocky overlooks, nice hikers headed in the opposite direction, beautiful views of the Shenandoahs, even some trail magic of bakery fresh donuts and soda at one of the shelters. And I spotted my first bear!, apparently the same cub running across the trail that so many hikers have sighted in the days prior. All this before noon - what a day already! By the afternoon, the pain in my ankle was pretty bad, not a general ache which I probably could walk through, but a sharp pain that shot up through my shin with each and every step. Popping ibuprofen like candy didn't ease my discomfort, nor did a neoprene bandage, eating more food, or leaning on trekking poles. Irregardless, I knew I had to hike out, to at least reach a road or campsite or shelter before I could stop for the day, short of my planned mileage but given no other choice. So I did what any self-respecting hiker would do, as I stood in the middle of the trail and cried, actually wailed at the top of my lungs, thinking, hoping I could release some of the anguish through my tears. Part of me was relieved there was no one else around to witness my outburst, but another part of me wanted someone to come along and comfort me. Seeing no one, my spirit broken, I sat on a log and continued sobbing until I had no tears left, at first for the pain, then at the thought of leaving the trail, having come so far only to lose it all. But I couldn't sit there all day, and so I limped the remaining few miles to a wayside store where I knew my friends would be waiting and worrying. Sad as I was to say good-bye to Dirty Blonde and Backbend, my best friends on the trail, I could not continue hiking. Just then Knee High, the section hiker from the campsite the other night, goes walking by, finished with her daily miles and heading to her campsite, by car, for the evening. Her timing impeccable, she offered me a ride, company for dinner, another shared campsite, friendship and support. Surprisingly, the drive along Skyline, the road running the length of Shenandoah National Park, put the day in perspective, the first time riding in a car has helped me to realize, again, why I love the outdoors. As a hiker, I am disappointed with the Shenandoahs, trees blown down everywhere the park looks like a giant bonfire waiting to happen, the vistas from the trail not that great sorry to say, evidence of fire over thousands of acres, gypsy moth and woolly adelgid infestations, damage from ice storms and hurricanes over the past decade, the trail and scenery somewhat boring. I kid you not, and I can't believe I'm writing this, but, the park is actually more stunning, the mountains more grand, the views more spectacular when seen from a car. If I was excited by my first bear sighting this morning, I was glad I was inside a vehicle for the second and third, for those boys were big. Plus driving the distance I hike each day amazes me with how far I've come to get to this point, how many miles I am able to travel with my own two feet, how much I have already accomplished. All things happen for a reason, and some good always comes out of bad. Still, I'm hoping my ankle feels better in the morning, for I want to hike.