Date: 2005-05-20
From: Campsite, mile 476.7

To: East Fork of Big Wilson Creek
Miles today: 16.2

I awoke this morning to a wet tent. It rained hard the night before and I was thankful for keeping my tent with me. I thought of sending it home however, that night proved to me that I should keep it. At least for a little while longer I thought.    I was slow in getting started. A combination of packing wet and a little to much red wine. By 9 am I was moving along the trail. At mile 477.6 there was a red brick house right along the left side of the trail in a large open field. What a great spot to put a Hiker Hostile I said to myself. Other hikers later up the trail would say the same thing. A handyman special.    Within a few hours I stopped at Buzzard Rock at White Top Mountain (5120 feet). It was a long steady climb to get there. About three miles worth that took three hours to do.   Unfortunately for me it was another socked in mountain. It seemed some of the best views this time of year has had the tendency to be fogged in. What I did do eventually (not all the time though), was that when I came to a part of the trail where I wanted to see the views from the top, I would wait the storm out or wait till it cleared off that day. A technique that worked fine, for example, when I went through the White Mountains further North.   This day I was heading into and across the Grayson Highlands and I was sorry to see the weather was so bad. Thinking back I wish I would of held off one more day in Damascus. I did see a lot this day though. There in the park, the Parks Department kept a horse herd at a manageable number. Horses are born in the wild there and all are left alone to graze the tops of the mountains off. They love to come up to you and lick the salt off your body. I had some hard candy and just the sound of the plastic wrapper crinkling sent the horses running my way. It was so cool to see. One horse bit at my forearm hairs as he was licking me.    Evidently this land was settled years before by folks from Scotland. It bored a resemblance to what they were accustomed too back home. I understand that they came here to flee persecution from their home government. Seeing what I could see I could understand why they settled here. It was beautiful. I visited Scotland (Army stuff) a number of years ago and was flown, by helicopter, over some of the southern part of that country. The two areas were very similar indeed.   I passed by the Wise Shelter and settled in to a great camp site (mile 492.9). Again the shelter was packed full and again it looked like rain. I wasn't complaining though because of where I was, along the East Fork of the Big Wilson Creek (gorgeous). I did note that the rocks on this part of the trail took a toll on my feet. I thought that I was getting a taste of things to come. We all heard along the trail just how tough parts of Pennsylvania was going to be (this was nothing compared to that). I was 18 miles away from Troutdale where I had a package waiting for me. The next day was Saturday and I new I would not make it to the Post Office in time. My plan was to spend Sunday night there (a nero) and first thing Monday retrieve my package and move on. Plans for me on the trail changed constantly as did this one. It actually turned out to be a most memorable experience.