Date: 2016-05-11
From: Rausch Gap Shelter

To: 501 Shelter
Miles today: 17.5
Weather: broken clouds

Hey y'all: I posted 4 new journal entries simultaneously when I got to Port Clinton tonight, so you should page back a bit, if you want to catch the tales of Ghosts, redneck weddings, and arson! Anyway: Shortly after Blues Brother told his arson story and fell asleep, a big bubble of NOBO hikers trickled in to Rausch Gap. The group had been hiking together since their second day in Georgia and their conversation was primarily made up of inside jokes and movie quotes, so it was impossible to follow. The whole gang was college aged, the youngest 18 and wearing his high school fraternity hat. After several days in the serene company of Roller and WannaChair, they were a bit jarring, but I came to enjoy their constant laughter and general mayhem making. They also ate like a plague of locusts, leaving no food bag unturned. For our own self preservation, Roller and I opted to tent/hammock and give up the relatively small shelter to the squad. The next morning, they left just before us , headed to the same shelter, the 501 Shelter, famed for two rare qualities: 1. It has 4 walls and a door, instead of 3.2. A local pizza restaurant deliversFirst, 17 miles on the rocks, 8 road crossings including an Interstate, and a thousand foot climb to a ridgeline with no views. I've mentioned previously that my feet had been giving me trouble. Today was a nightmare. I was limping and feeling sorry for myself and only moving forward because there literally was not another option. After 12ish miles of this, I came across some day hikers and stopped to chat with them. It came up in the course of conversation that I was having problems with my feet, probably the result of my insoles, and they generously offered me some aspirin. They also mentioned that there was trail magic about 3 miles away, offering cold drinks and snacks. Buoyed by the promise of food and the potential for a ride to a hotel where my feet could get a break, I thanked the day hikers and continued on. I had been moving slow enough that it was now late in the day and there was a strong possibility the trail angels would be gone by the time I reached the road crossing. Despite the excruciating pain, I practically ran down the trail, conquering 3 miles of mercifully rock-free and well maintained trail in 45 minutes. I passed Roller, alerted her to the promise of trail magic, and kept going, gritting my teeth to distract from the pain."You need to walk faster, we almost left before you got here!" The Trail Angel, an '04 thru hiker, scolded. I collapsed into a folding chair with a gasp, "I tried!"His wife swatted him, telling me that "one of the earlier hikers, the tall one, told us you were coming. Where's the other girl?"Roller caught up ten minutes later, after the Angels had dosed me with Tylenol and Coca Cola, claiming she had never seen me hike that fast. It was true, I am solely motivated by food and chairs. The Angels had bananas and granola bars and we were quite happy to sit with them for a while. Eventually, the day hikers I met earlier joined us. Caroline sat next to me and pulled off her boots, removing the insoles. "Here, take these. We have the same kind of boots, maybe they'll help your feet."I stared at her, a bit dumbfounded by her offer, unsure of whether to accept or not.The trail Angels reminded me that she wouldn't have offered if she didn't mean it, so I hesitantly and grateful accepted. I pulled the corrective insoles that had caused me such grief out of my sweaty boots and put in the new-to-me insoles from Caroline's boots. At that point, we only had two miles to the shelter. The many Angels insisted we take the leftover fruit and granola bars and sent us on our way. While I can't say the insoles magically erased all of my foot pain, the relief was noticeable. I was walking without a limp for the first time in days, and that's about as good as I could hope for. The shelter was about full when we arrived, but there were magically two bunks left. We ordered pizza and relaxed next to a fire built by two section hikers, getting acquainted with the night's cast of characters. In addition to the laughing NOBO bubble were two couples, also flip-flopping, a southbounder with the best behaved dog I ever met, and two section hikers from Jersey who fondly reminded me of The Jersey Boys. Dr. Trail, one of the NOBOs, had worked in Cincinnati briefly, so it was nice to reminisce about my hometown with someone who both knew where it was and didn't hate it (I am in Steelers territory, after all). A few minutes after we all settled in to our sleeping bags, a hiker I didn't know crashed into the bunkhouse with a staggering amount of groceries, pronouncing the great success of his trip to the discount grocery store that, apparently, took some five hours. Everyone politely ignored him and settled back to sleep.Reportedly, he decided to take a zero day in the shelter when he tried to pack his groceries, including several pounds of raw meat, the next morning.