Date: 2013-05-21
From: Wood's Hole Hostel

To: Hilltop Campsite
Miles today: 13.7

I was so tired last night. I took a shower and crawled into bed wrapped in the fluffy, soft robe. I didn't feel like a dirty hiker. The alarm went off at 5:05, 5:10, and 5:15. I wanted so badly to stay in bed, but I had told Neville that I would meet her downstairs to meditate. The stairs and floorboards creaked as I made my way downstairs and into the living room. It was dark outside, and only hues of dark blue made their way through the windows. I found a spot on the floor, pulled a pillow off the sofa, closed my eyes and found my breath. I managed to stay awake, but my thoughts continued to wander away. With 10 mins left, soft guitar strums drifted from the loft (Neville and Michael's bedroom). I smiled. This is why I was supposed to be awake at this hour. The gong sounded. I headed upstairs to get dressed and then came back down to help with breakfast. I made juice, mixed up some grits, crushed garlic and cracked 40 brown, white, and soft blue colored eggs that were so fresh they were still warm. Fresh from the chicken's bottom. Breakfast was delicious. Neville worked her magic yet again. I sat next to 50/50, and we had a lovely chat. It's really been a treat to run into him again. The trail is funny like that.After breakfast, the morning rush began. Everyone was antsy to get their bills settled and get back on the trail, especially me. But no matter how hard I tried to get my stuff together, something kept pulling me away. The calm peacefulness started slipping, and I found myself agitated. I like to get myself organized and caught up before I start off again after zero days, and yet I was anything but. My trail journals weren't updated. I had missed my chance to talk to Tom. I'd never made it to the pharmacy to pick up more anti-fungal cream. I had some loose ends at home that hadn't been dealt with, and yet I was being whirled back out on the trail. My family was enroute to visit in few days, and I was far short of our meet up point. I didn't feel like I was hiking my own hike. Ahhhhhh.... I felt a cry coming on. Hiccup dropped us off where we got off the trail the day before. Dreamer sensed my angst and said she would give some space. I thanked her. I pulled out my phone and sent Tom a messages that my phone would be on and to please try to call if he could. I started to cry. I heard someone approaching up the hill. I looked up through my blurry, teary eyes. It was 50/50. He looked at me with sympathetic eyes and said, God bless you. All I could muster was a whispered, Thank you. I headed down the steep trail. It was more of a poison ivy alley. I wished that had worn my knee-high leg gators. Normally I do, but they were dirty, and I didn't want to track dirt through Neville and Michael's house. I got down into town and passed through an easement between two backyards. I turned down Lane Street and passed rows of trailer houses. The garbage cans were waiting to be collected. Someone had had seafood. I found a triangle of freshly mowed grass, and I sat down. I just needed a good cry. I called Mom to formalize plans for their upcoming visit. As soon as I heard her voice, my face contorted and I couldn't muster a word. Only a croaking gasp. She listened as I talked, and I felt simultaneously silly and relieved. Once I pulled myself together, we chatted like normal. Finally I was really ready to hike.The trail entered the woods and passed by an old cemetery. It emptied out beside a busy road, and I walked alongside traffic over the New River. The river was wide and lined on both sides by thick trees. There was a small brown beach with some driftwood, a few pieces of washed up garbage, and about 50 large colorful butterflies fluttering about. Their beauty looked out of place, but the butterflies didn't seem to notice. The bridge continued and crossed over some railroad tracks. Much to my delight, train was approaching. I waved to the engineer. He waved back. I rested my forehead against the black, rubber coated cyclone fence and counted the train cars as they passed beneath me. There were 100 train cars full of dark gravel. When it finished, I looked over my shoulder and watched it snake around the corner out of sight. The trail climbed down some stairs, under an overpass and back up into the woods. It was getting hot and humid. The rocks were sweating again, and so was I. My phone started ringing. I flung down my pack and started digging frantically for it. It could be only one person. Tom. Good thing I'd already gotten all the cry out. Hearing his voice has the same effect on me that tranquilizer does to a raging elephant. By the end of our conversation, I was laughing again. I love that man.The trail climbed up onto a ridge and followed along it for the majority of the day. It was hot, but there was a nice cool breeze. I passed Dreamer sitting near a stream. I informed her that I was starting to feel normal again but that I still needed some alone time. I kept going. Through the trees there looked to be dark steely storm clouds. Then I realized that it was actually the far ridge blanked by a dark haze. The air felt heavy. It would rain, but not right now. I crossed beneath a tall power line. There was a Forest Service parked to the side. I felt a little jilted. I had been climbing for hours only to discover that the top was accessible by car. Soon the power line easement opened up into a grassy field. It was wide and rounded with unobscured vistas ahead of us. Layers land layers of blue mountain ridges still to climb. I walked over to Rice Field shelter. Avocado and Rocket (I had met Rocket long ago before Neels Gap. his beard was far more impressive than it was then) were leaving. I sat down in the shelter to sign the register and have a snack. Dreamer came walking up. She had skipped lunch to catch up with me. I apologized for my poor temperament. She talked about shortening the mileage, but ultimately decided to keep going when she realized how far we'd come. We set off together. My personal storm clouds had lifted. We chatted and laughed and climbed fence stiles as they appeared in our path. We walked through an old orchard; apple trees covered in tight clusters if ruffled pink flowers. We sat in the tall grass and ate slices Neville's fresh bread covered in Michael's forest honey, small pieces of honeycomb suspended in the golden nectar.   Omigoodness. I'm forever ruined after that snack. We walked another quarter mile and came across a flat area at the top of the grassy field under a couple of trees with low wide branches. If I was still a tree climber this would have been my ideal tree. A wood covered hill stood below, pastures immediately all around us. As soon as we saw it, we knew we were 'there.' The trail has a way of communicating. We shared a dinner, hung the bear bags and tucked in for the night. A storm rolled through. You could hear it coming and then BAM! A blast of wind. Big heavy rain drops. Lightning. Thunder. Half an hour later, all was quiet.