Date: 2020-06-22
From: Little Laurel Shelter

To: Hogback Ridge Shelter
Miles today: 22.8
Weather: broken clouds

This morning was warmer. For the first time in a couple weeks I didn't mind getting out of my sleeping bag. It was late again, relative to sunrise at least. Even near the longest day of the year the sun doesn't rise until quarter after six around here, and no one in or near the shelter stirred until near 8. The older hiker from last evening I'm calling William Wallace. He appeared this morning in a green plaid kilt, black tights, a long-sleeved loose off-white shirt, and homemade buffalo skin shoes. Along with his hair swept up in a knot and a full beard he's the picture of an ancient Highlander. He rekindled the fire and boiled a pot of coffee. I trekked out and hit Firescald Knob in the midmorning, a rocky, often bouldery ridge with beautiful views. In bad weather there's an alternate trail to avoid the exposed ridge. At the high point is Howard's Rock, a perfect viewpoint and large flat Rock for resting. It's named for a longtime trail builder, Howard McDonald, a retired engineer who led the five-year relocation of the trail to this ridge. He often mentioned wanting to move this large flat rock up to the ridge for a picnic spot. On the last day of trail work his crew secretly moved it up, taking the strength of six men. Howard proudly showed it off to friends and family, including on his 80th birthday, until he could no longer hike up here.The sun was heating things up and humidity was rising. I took several breaks, including on Howard's Rock, with its view across the Tennessee Valley. I heard some frustrated sounds from amongst the thick azaleas lining the twisting trail and a backpacker, an older Southern lady, appeared. She apologized for her "cussin' " in negotiating the rocks. Other then her there were just a few dayhikers about most of the day.I stopped to visit a supposed firetower on Camp Creek Bald, but all I found were radio antenna and a fenced cell tower. By this time Sunshine was far ahead, and I took my time meandering through today's miles.While lunching at Jerry Cabin Shelter I watched two butterflies dance and chase each other away over something on the ground which must have been highly prized in the butterfly world. They wouldn't stay still for a portrait. Unusually, the spring here required walking a good way uphill for water.Some miles on, fifty yards off trail, are the gravestones of William and David Shelton, arranged in a shaded grassy clearing amongst a number of sitting logs. The brothers were Union soldiers. They were killed when they came to the area to visit relatives during the war.Later as I walked briskly down a mountain holding my trekking poles horizontally in one hand, I ran across two white-haired hikers. The first called out "Are those fishing poles?" As he came close he laughed at the error. " I lost my glasses somewhere back there!" he gestured vaguely down the hill. He's lost four or five pairs recently. Said I'd look for them but saw nothing, and heard no crunch under my shoes, the usual technique of finding lost spectacles. Stopping at Flint Mountain Shelter for a break, an older section hiker named Swift, who's planning to bike cross country to San Diego then hike the PCT, told me Sunshine had left just a few minutes earlier. We heard thunder in the distance. Shortly after I moved on, a strong wind blew through and dropped the temperature and pressure noticeably. Whuh-oh! Sure enough the rain followed just as I pulled on my poncho. It poured buckets on me for about an hour as I trudged through mud and rivelets. I don't mind midday downpours. The poncho keeps my pack dry. My clothes dry out quickly. Only my shoes and socks remain sodden. Though it doesn't require rain to do that.As the rain subsided I took a short detour at Rector Laurel Rd to Laurel Hostel, where a trail-side sign promised cold drinks. I packed out sodas and a couple beers to split with Sunshine later. Jimmy "TwoToke" and a tall lean mountain man with a long white beard were holding court telling tall trail tales with two young women guests outside the hostel.I put in another six miles which included a long but not too taxing 1600 foot climb over Sugarloaf mountain. Didn't reach Hogback Ridge Shelter until well after 8. Long day! Sunshine thought I had disappeared. In the shelter I found two section hikers: a middle-aged former thruhiker named Solomon and his wife, out on her first backpacking trip. They're finishing at Sam's Gap tomorrow just a couple miles away and had extra food. Also a young man thruhiking named Bearfoot. He's been flipping around to finish the south and plans to jump up to Harper's Ferry shortly to complete the northern half.A peaceful evening since the storm blew through. Cooler and less humid. A comfortable night in a full shelter.