Date: 2013-05-22
From: Hilltop Campsite

To: Wind Rock campsite
Miles today: 13.4

We woke up to the most beautiful sky. Dreamer had gotten up. I heard her, but I wasn't ready to rise and shine yet. My tent looked mundane and normal inside, nothing to indicate the magic right on the other side of the nylon fabric. She said I needed to come out and see the morning. I did.Morning fog filled the valley crooks and crevices like a smooth layer of cream. A large cloud with jagged edges filled the sky above the hill in front of us. The sun glowed yellow arounds its edges, but its light cast a rosy wash on the grass and tree branches and our faces. We must have taken at least a dozen photos each. For a few minutes, our hilltop meadow was under a magical spell. I sat on a log facing the sun and had what was left of yesterday's bread with honey, and I boiled water for coffee. I wanted to hold on to the moment for as long as possible, but it slipped through my fingers like loose sand. Some things just can't be jarred. They must be enjoyed at that moment. That's what makes them so precious. The morning hike was humid and lush. A natural salad bar of waist-high greenery. Too bad it wasn't edible. I used my poles to push the draping vines out of the narrow path. Some leaves were so big they looked like baby elephant's ears. The rocks were surprising slick and caught me off guard. Luckily I caught myself before I went down. Even with all the moisture in the air and on the ground, there were few water sources. We were both almost completely out of water when we got to the stream before Pine Shelter. It was almost noon, so I decided to cook up a dinner for lunch- get the eating and cleaning out of the way. We were planning to cover big miles today. I realized that my watch had fallen out of my pocket. I stopped at Pine Shelter to sign the register. Apparently there had been several rattlesnake sightings in the days before. I hadn't seen or heard any rattlesnakes, and that concerned me. I'd rather know where they were; they had to be there. I found out later that some hikers 20 mins behind me had seen a giant rattlesnake right in the middle trail right after I passed. That didn't make me feel any better. That shelter was quite nice with a working fireplace. Too bad I'd miss out on this one. Dreamer and I stopped at "the Captain's". We dropped our packs on the riverbank and stripped down to our underwear. The Captain has a house across the river and a zip line of sorts to traverse Lick Creek. He allows hikers to camp in his yard for free and keeps a refrigerator stocked with sodas. There's a big swimming hole right in front. Dreamer and I took turns pulley-ing our way across the creek. We timidly climbed the bank up into the well manicured yard. It felt a little awkward walking barefoot through a stranger's backyard wearing nothing but dirty underwear. In any other circumstance you knew the owners would probably call the cops. But here, it seemed to be the norm. Oxygen was laying in a hammock, Shade, Avocado, Rocket and Fluffy were sitting on the screened porch. The Captain was still at work and wouldn't be home for a few hours. I took at cherry cola from the fridge and walked down to the water. It was still cool but much warmer than any other body of water we'd been in to date. I climbed in and let the water current take me along the current for a ways. I swam around fully submerged. Oh yeah. Avocado shared some of his Dr. Baumers soap. We all lathered up and washed ourselves. It's funny what the trail does to your modesty and dignity. I normally wouldn't be this informal around my own husband, much less people I barely know in a stranger's private swimming hole. Never underestimate the transformational powers of the trail.Storm clouds started moving in, and thunder rumbled overhead. Dreamer really wanted to stay, but I had 20 miles to cover to meet my parents by noon tomorrow. I had to go. We bid our farewells though the guys tried to coax us to stay. We pulleyed back over the creek just as five other hikers arrived. One hiker loaded up on the zip line, but another hiker in their group grew impatient. She decide to ford the river. She took off her hiking boots and put on her Crocs. She put her pack on and took her boots in one hand, poles in the other. I had to bite my tongue. I wanted to urge her tie the boots on her pack and use the poles for stability. This wasn't going to turn out well. But I could tell she was to looking for any counsel. And some lessons just have to be learned the hard way. She started into the rushing waters. She made it four feet, maybe. Maybe she stepped on a slanted rock, maybe the the currents got the best of her. Either way, she went down. Her head and shoulders stayed above water, but everything else was submerged, pack included. She retreated and managed to climb clumsily back out of the water with some help, but she was pissed. She flung her wet boots back in the creek bank and spit out a few choice words. I didn't figure she was in the mood for an audience, so I climbed the steep bank and rejoined the trail. The rain had started to fall lightly. There was no telling how long it would last. My pack cover was on, but it there was a big hill coming up, and I knew it would be too hot in rain gear. I ate a Snickers bar in anticipation for the climb. It didn't come. Maybe I was getting off Scott free. We crossed a brand new shiny bridge. It was so new that no one had yet carved their name into its wood. We passed through a rhododendron tunnel with ripe buds just itching to pop open. And there was the hill. It was a bitch of a hill. Our 2+ mph pace screeched to a snail like speed. Dreamer let me get in front, and I chugged it to the top. The slope was littered with large blow overs. For some reason the smaller trees seemed unaffected, but the big timber was snapped in two or uprooted altogether. The rhododendron was completely unaffected except where the large trees had fallen on top of them. I stopped at the shelter and waited for Dreamer. It was full of hikers. Cabot, Beerdra, Pony Bear and her boyfriend, Oxy, Shrek, and a group of section hikers were there. They were hiding from the storm. But there was not much of a storm to speak of, just some intermittent sprinkles. I knew that if I wasn't supposed to meet my parents and Dreamer wasn't to meet her husband tomorrow, we'd very likely be hiding right there next to them. Dreamer arrived and had a snack. I put on my fleece. Temperatures had dropped as had my body temperature. It was 4:30, and we still had 9 miles to cover. We had resigned ourselves to night hiking, though neither of us were keen on the idea. The terrain was supposed to level out, which it did. But it was a rock-filled hell. And not just any rock-filled hell, but a wet one to boot. My feet were slipping and sliding across their uneven surfaces. It was only a matter of time before I twisted an ankle, or better yet, broke one. I moved as quickly as I dared, but it was done in frustration and annoyance. A terrible and dangerous combination. After a mile or so, I saw a large uneven rock with some faded, worn words painted on it. It read: Please end back to PA. I stopped and laughed. I had just been thinking how scared I was of Pennsylvania if it was considered "rocky" compared to Virginia. I thought that VA should change its state slogan from 'Virginia is for lovers' to 'Virginia, the other rocky state.' A few minutes later I saw a bright orange rubbery looking salamander with even brighter orange spots. It waddled sluggishly, like bad computer graphics, when it walked. I took a few photos of it and continued on. I went on to see three more before the day was over, but I still don't know it's name. I sat down on a rock and made a bowl of granola. It was getting dark, and I wanted to give Dreamer a chance to catch up. We were planning to night hike, and it seemed safer to be together. Once I saw her coming up, I changed my mind again. Hiking in the rain over rocks on a section of trail with lots of rattlesnakes in the dark sounded like a terrible idea. We should stop sooner, and I would get earlier and make the difference in mileage tomorrow. Call me a party pooper, but I was in no mood to be snake bitten, break an ankle or flirt with hypothermia. We agreed to camp at Wind Rock, three miles way. I hiked the next few miles in a half pissed off state. I had set my expectations at the beginning of the day to go 17 or 18 miles, but we were barely going to make 13. I was wasting an incredible amount of energy fighting against the current of the situation. Sometimes you just have to hike the frustrated energy out. My heart was pounding in my chest, sweat streaming down my face despite the cooler temperatures. My breath was heavy and rapid. I wanted to roar. How had I left such a peaceful place like Wood's Hole just days days ago and today feel like tearing trees out of the ground with my bare hands? PMS was the only explanation I could come up with, so I'm going to go with that. I got to the parking area before Wind Rock, and there was a bag of plump juicy oranges sitting on a rock. I had been craving oranges. I took one and looked forward to eating it tomorrow. I suddenly felt tired. The rain was coming down steadily when I got to the lookout and campsite. I found a flat spot and set up my tent in the rain. I crawled inside and felt all kinds of surly swirling through my system. Mr. Hyde was on a rampage. A village in India was being decimated by a raging elephant. Where was the tranquilizer when you needed it? I went up to the overlook, but there was no signal. I sulked back to my tent. Dreamer arrived. She still hadn't been able to get in touch with her husband to let him know of our change of plans. I thought he already knew. Suddenly it hit me. Her sweet husband was headed to the wrong campsite looking for us after a week in the field with work. I had an instant paradigm shift. He would get there well after dark, and we wouldn't be there. Suddenly, I went from feeling like compromising, begrudging troll to a selfish asshole. It may not sound like an improvement, but in fact it was! I was angry about missing out on a few miles. He could potentially be wandering around the dark for hours looking for us but unable to connect due to lack of signal. Shame on me. Dreamer took both of our phones (I use Verizon, she uses AT&T) up to the overlook and sat there patiently. She sent out text messages, tried to call and sent him mental messages (sounds weird, but I swear to goodness they can read each others' minds). In some flukeish shift of winds, she managed to get a message out, and he called. As I'm writing this, I see a headlight flashing in the darkness. Chad made it! The pendulum of my emotions swings back from the dark side. I can sleep.