Date: 2017-04-23
From: Dickey Gap

To: Marion, VA
Miles today: 14.1
Weather: clear sky

Sounds travel far at night, although the sound of Pogo spewing breakfast, lunch, and dinner only had to travel about 10 feet, his tent being that close to mine. It is 4 a.m., and it is still raining. "Pogo, is that you?" An affirmative grunt returns. "Do you want to try to get to town?" Two grunts. "I'll go with you, for moral support." It takes me forever to break camp in rain, me trying to be careful to pack the bag without soaking every item. It's a fruitless effort.A road is not far, about a tenth of a mile away, but it's pitch dark. We walk to the road using our headlamps, thinking we can call a shuttle from there. We move on to a small grassy patch where a paved road intersects a gravel road. I have AT&T, which is utterly useless, so bad I hate them. He has Verizon, so perhaps he'll have a signal.His signal is weak, one bar, momentarily two. It's 5:15 a.m.. He gets through to a hotel, and they don't shuttle. Another hotel has a recording. Then he has no service. He pauses frequently to fight off the urge to get sick. And it's still raining.We start walking towards a hostel in Troutsdale. Guthook says it's 0.1 mile away. Our spirits rise. We walk that distance. Now Guthook says it's 0.3 miles away. Pogo can scarcely walk, so I carry his bag. Now I can scarcely walk. We walk 0.3 miles, and now Guthook says we're 0.6 miles away. Spirits crushed, we return to the grassy patch. Pogo is starting to shiver and decides to lay out tarp and his sleeping bag. He crawls inside. The rain is soaking his bag, and I'm feeling desperate. About 5 minutes pass, and I see headlights coming our way on the paved road. I start waving frantically, doing jumping jacks. A pickup trucks slows and stops in front of me. The driver window rolls down."We need help. My friend is sick and I'm trying to get him to town. We have no cell service. "The driver is on his way to fish. He can clearly see Pogo prostrate in the grass."I don't have cell service, either," he says. I can tell he has no idea what he's stumbled upon and is trying to move on. "Well, if you could at least get help for us, drive to town, call us a shuttle, anything. We're desperate. The town is only 2.6 miles away."This must not seem too far because he invites us into his truck and drives us to Troutsdale, leaving us in a parking lot in front of a church. I thank him profusely. It takes some doing, but I find the church's hostel nearby. It has a shower, of which Pogo avails himself immediately, while I speak with the caretaker about Pogo's condition. He tells me he will take care of him. I bid farewell to him and Pogo and walk the lonely road back to the trailhead. It's still raining. A big dog barks at me from a nearby house, but I pay him no heed; I'm too emotionally drained to care.It's 8 a.m. I begin my hike for the day. The goal is the Partnership Shelter, maybe even the city of Marion. I'm soaked, and would like to dry out.The rain never lets up. The trail becomes a stream several inches deep or mud just as full. At first I sidestep the puddles and mud, but my waterproof boots are no longer waterproof. My feet squish about in their socks. Can't get much wetter, I reason, so I start splashing directly through the mire. You can get much wetter, and I did. The shelter seems like counties away. I curse each hill. It's an interminable hike. Then suddenly I come upon the shelter. It's gorgeous as shelters go, but I'm not staying. I move on to the Mt. Rogers Visitor Center. It has a landline phone - they must know AT&T sucks - and I reserve a hotel room and call a cab. No longer moving while I await the cab, I start to shiver. An outdoor thermometer says 48 degrees, prime conditions for hypothermia. To warm up I eat a large chocolate bar and do a few jumping jacks. Even a slight touch of my raincoat on my skin causes me to shake. At long last, the cab arrives and I jump inside. He has the heater running and the car is toasty. The first words from my mouth, before I tell him where I want to go, are "Thank you for having the car warmed up."I lay in a comfy hotel bed, my clothes and equipment strewn about, and the heater blasting in the dim hope that all articles will dry overnight. The forecast for tomorrow is for much of the same, and I'm wondering if I should even get out of bed.