Date: 2013-06-08
From: Cow Camp Gap Shelter

To: Dutch Haus B&B, Spy Rock Rd.
Miles today: 12.5

I slept well in Cow Gap Shelter. I was grateful to have Bus there, though. I still felt a little creeped out about the murder sign. Bus got up first. I knew I had a short-ish day, so I wasn't in any rush. The sky was overcast and looked pretty grumpy. It's been grumpy a lot lately. My knee felt okay. If I had to give it a grade, it would be a B-. I made some hot chocolate with breakfast, it was pretty cool. I even put on my fleece. I'm not sure anyone will really figure the weather out this year. All my clothes are still pretty friggin' wet. I strapped the wet socks, rain pants and jacket to the outside of my pack (too wet to go inside), and I put the rain cover over the top. It was right at 8 a.m. by the time I climbed back up to the AT. I was hot by then, so I buried the fleece deep in my pack (to keep it dry) since the rain had started to fall. The rain fell lightly at first. The woods were smoky with wisps of fog. In a movie, something dramatic was sure to happen, but in real life the rain just came down harder. By the time I got to Cold Mountain, it was coming down in a heavy sheet. I crossed the grassy bald with rain coming at me diagonally. Batches of mist wafted over the gap, occasionally allowing a glimpse of trees on the hillside. I've pretty much conceded that my AT journey could be subtitled: A trip of missed views.I made my way down the gentle hill to Hog Camp Gap. There was a dirt parking lot filled with cars and a little meadow sprinkled with trees and tents. A huddle of rainjacket-clad hikers stood on a circle listening their leader. I said hello and jokingly asked who was in charge of ordering the weather. They laughed and apologized for dropping the ball. One spoke up and said that it would be better in 10 mins. He pointed to a tiny patch of blue, blue sky peaking through a break in the clouds. As if he commanded it, the rain slowed to a drizzle and then stopped all together. I wish I could bring this guy with me for the rest of the trip! I climbed the grassy hill. The trees were too tall and too close to see much, but there were a couple of small breaks in the trees. You could see for dozens of miles (a far improvement to dozens of yards). The quintessential Blue Ridges that gave the area its name. Their indigo bodies accentuated by the smokey white haze. The blue patch grew bigger and bluer, blue only as a sky that has purged all its impurities can be. It was blinding and claimed over half of the heavens. It felt like a well-earned blue. I was atop Tar Jacket Ridge.The trail eased down through the woods. I was approaching an intersection labeled: Intersection of Two Forest Roads. Someone definitely wins the lack-of-creativity award for that one. Anywho, I saw two coolers sitting side-by-side with an empty garbage bag attached to the handle of one. There was a note from Gorman and his wife wishing us luck. An empty garbage bag is a good sign. I opened the cooler on the right first. It was full of gatorade and sodas packed to the top with fresh ice! Usually they are full of garbage and stagnant water by the time I get to them. I opened the other. It was full to the top with Snickers, Twix, Honey buns, snack crackers, snack cakes, granola bars, trail mix, you name it! There must have been a couple of hundred dollars worth of snacks and drinks. There was a log book on top, and I was the first to sign it. I ate a honey bun on the spot, and it didn't register anything in my stomach. I also grabbed a gatorade, snickers and trail mix. So greedy was I. But thank you trail magic and trail angels!I leap-frogged Bus a few times as he would stop and rest. We were walking together when we reached Piney River Fork campsite. I was glad he was there, so that I knew I wasn't dreaming. Another enchanted lieu along the AT. The area of 100 square feet or more seemed to be a floating island. You carefully stepped on roots and rocks as a river of water passed beneath it all. Clear, rushing water. It was a gauntlet of sorts. You had to choose your footing carefully. In the middle of it all was a giant grey boulder, the size of a shipping container. It stood at least a storey tall. On top of it was an impossibly large pine tree; its roots spreading and pouring fluidly down the back of the boulder. How it ever had enough nourishment to take seed in the first place is a mystery to me. But the size of it! I'm guessing it to be 75-100 years old given its girth. Towering and reigning from it's high perch. This floating island of roots and rocks, with huge boulders supporting old timber on their shoulders, it felt other-worldly. As if somehow the laws or nature applied differently here, or at least they were easily bent. The trail flattened in a lovely, merciful stretch through a forest covered in green ferns. I'm beginning to think that green is the most common color on Earth. The sunlight dappled the forest floor. The air was still and quiet. Even the cicadas had ceased their chatter. I realized that I haven't been looking around much in the last few days. Between the wet and my knee, my spirits have sagged. For reasons I don't know, I stopped. Dead in my tracks. I scanned the forest around me. I saw an inconsistency in the trees. A horizontal brown. It was a doe. I could just see the top of her back and the white break where her tail was. Had I subconsciously seen her before I stopped? Or was it a coincidence? I don't know. But I stood there watching her. She, in turn, stood perfectly still. I clucked at her. The tail flicked up, and she gracefully bounded through the lush forest ferns. Leaping effortlessly, her front legs and back legs tucked neatly to her belly. It made me feel all the more clumsy. She paralleled the trail for 50 yards and then stopped to look back at me as she crossed the trail. Then she bounded down the other side. To have her elegance and lack of knee problems...I stopped briefly at the Seely Woodworth Shelter to call the Dutch Haus to let them know that I was getting close. Lois answered the phone and gave me directions on how to get down to the parking lot. There was a 1.1 mile STEEP, ROCKY downhill hoof to get to the public parking/trail head. I was glad I didn't know how bad it would be or else I might have skipped their oasis. But then again, I was low on food and everything I had stunk to high heaven. The downhill was a bugger with a capital "B". I didn't envy the tomorrow me who would have to reserve the descent. I got down to the parking lot. It was bright and sunny by now. I peeled off my shoes and socks. Again, I had white, zombie looking feet. I squeezed and wrung dirty, brown water out of them. I took my tent out and dried it on the fence. Within 10 minutes the sunlight and breeze had dried it. Earl pulled up as I was packing everything back up. He took me back to the Dutch Haus, where he and Lois made me feel a little more human. They showed me around, gave me a bathrobe and a laundry hamper for my dirty clothes. She ended up washing them on the SUPER HEAVY cycle to try to get the musty, rotten smell out. She took Long Island (also navigating a knee problem) and me to the Montebello General Store to resupply. He and I sat on the bench out front and watched a guy accidentally drive away with the gas nozzle still in his gas tank. I'd always wondered what would happen. It turns out that today's gas pumps are equipped with break-away nozzles. So it wasn't nearly as exciting as I would have hoped. Instead of seeing gas pour all over the place and people get panicky, we just watched an embarrassed guy try to explain to his very pregnant wife why he was holding the gas nozzle in his hand. They fiddled with it for a few minutes, and finally Long Island took pity on them (he's a plumber in his other life). He hobbled down and reattached the nozzle for them. We headed back to the Dutch Haus. I updated trail journals and hung my clean, fresh-smelling laundry in the glorious sunlight. I read their guest register. So many familiar names just days ahead of me. Sigh, my poor knee. I'm not sure that I'll ever catch up with them.Raven and Fossil Phoenix join us later in the evening. Lois presented us with an evening meal that would bring tears to a grown man's eyes. We feasted on pork chops (the size of my head) smothered in sauteed onions and and apples, potato salad, green bean casserole, corn on the cob and pineapple upside down cake. Holy smokes, it was a lot of food! But it was so, so good. I can't imagine how I'll possibly be hungry for breakfast. I hear it's equally as epic! We sat around and talked for awhile, and then I excused myself and headed up to my bed. I should have gone straight to sleep, but instead I spent the next few hours surfing the internet on my phone. Shame on me! I also found out that the murdered hiker had last been seen at Cow Gap Shelter (where I slept last night), and his body was discovered on the trail that leads down to the shelter. It was partially buried in the bushes. The thought haunts me.