Date: 2005-05-25
From: Jenkins Shelter

To: Bland, VA
Miles today: 11.5
Weather: overcast clouds

Tal and I were hiking on and of with each other this day. We were both planning to go to Bland, VA for a resupply Nero. The trail runs through the "Little Wolf Creek" a number of times for the next two miles and when I mean runs through, it does exactly that. The trail goes along down the middle of the creek. There is a high water by-pass but, it was not needed that day. All the rain we had did not make the creek impassable so, it was an interesting section of trail.    I came upon a SOBO hiker who was carrying a glass juice bottle (unopened). Why does that mean anything? To a thru-hiker that means just one thing, trail magic ahead. No one carried glass on the trail (unless it was just given to them or has alcohol in it). He told me that there was a group of people running trail magic at the Laurel Creek bridge (VA-615) just ahead. Off I went (with a spring in my step) and when I got there a gentleman asked if I was hungry (Hungry, oh yes...). If so his church group was taking hikers in and feeding them just down the road a piece. "I'm in", I said. Tal showed up within a few minutes along with Tophat. The three of us loaded our gear in a truck and off we went.    We were invited to the Round Mountain United Methodist Church and were treated kindly by the folks there. This by far was the best breakfast trail magic yet. Everything was homemade including the grits. Now I was never a big fan of grits. I am a Yankee and growing up (for me) it has always been oatmeal, oatmeal and on special days, oatmeal again. I lived in the south while serving in the military and tried the "bulk prepared grits" that was served up in the dining facilities, not good. I tried to explain that to the folk there that I never liked grits, you should have seen the hurt look on their faces. Being the former Special Forces soldier that I was, I quickly surmised that I insulted the indig (indigenous people) and I need to fix that fast. I said what do you think the best way to eat grits? I had them all smiling. There was four ways suggested to eat them an I split my single bowl into four sections. In each section I prepared the grits to their instruction. One with salt and butter, one with brown sugar and so on. I tried each and as they waited for my response I said, "It is not a matter of which grit I like the best (they are all good), it is the fact that because of you, I now like grits". I also added, "grits have redeemed themselves and will again be added to my breakfast meal" (a true politician I tell you). They were good and I wasn't kidding. Instant grits? Never again I say.   We were asked to sign their log book, I promised to write when I finished and off we went back to the trail. For the next week or so the church group ran this trail magic. All who stopped in talked fondly about these fine folks for weeks. The gentleman who drove us back told me of what he did for a living. He was the owner and operator of a weekend barbeque business (portable), that cooked for parties and such. He worked on the weekends, some holidays and had the rest of the week off. His wife was apprehensive on the idea in the beginning until he gave her the first weekends profits, she hasn't complained since. What a great idea. He also told me more about barbeque sauce then I ever could imagine. People down there take their sauce seriously. What base, sugar versus vinegar and so much more. Sauces in general have morphed into other sauces, it all is based on geography (what part of the country you are in). I figured I wouldn't ask what was better, gas or charcoal, I was filled with so much info as it was, my head hurt. I did though have a "puppy belly" full of food, some new spiritual reading material in my pocket and more stuff to add to my log. Tal later told me (because he is Hebrew) that he did not want to mention this for fear of insulting the folk there. He also took the reading material with the intent to drop it all off at one of the shelters. I guess there is more then one way to pass "The Word".    Tal and I wound up hitching in to Bland, VA together later that day. We got a ride from a young man who had bad brakes in his car(so he said) and flew down off that mountain. We thanked him for the ride as we got out of the car, wide eyed and happy to still have a pulse. After eating and re supplying we tried to hitch out of town. No luck at all, people there were even insulting as they passed us by. One man made a gesture by walking his fingers across his dashboard as if he was saying, "walk back to the trail a## hole" (I gave him a "New York" hello). I told Tal I wish I had a sign that said, "Spent money in your town". We decided to stay (by a flip of a coin), at the Big Walker motel. An over priced, no soap providing, no refrigerator, no microwave, extremely dirty, clogged bathroom tub, American owned motel along the highway just out of town. I say that last part because it proudly displayed the "American Owned" sign on there mezzanine out front along Interstate 77, they should be ashamed of their service provided. All in all Bland Virginia was the worse town I went through on the trail. I wondered what made them so bitter. What a complete opposite to those we met earlier in the day. Perhaps we were there on a bad day. I must say some people in town were polite to talk too (the young lady who made our meal, the Marine home on leave). Not all though, one man proudly told us how he was a part of the ATC but, "I don't have the time to give you a ride". He said this, climbed in to his truck and off he went in the direction we were going...