Date: 2004-05-28
From: Four Pines Hostel, Catawba, VA

To: Howard Johnson Hotel, Daleville, VA
Miles today: 19.6
Weather: light rain

I forgot to mention yesterday that Southern Man found my whistle at the Elk River Campground. I probably never mentioned that I lost it and I'm not sure that I missed it in the time that it was gone. I also heard from Blue Sky that nobody heard her whistle when she blew it in the Smokies. But at the Homeplace Restaurant, Southern Man mentioned he found a red plastic whistle and I laughed and said I had lost mine. Sure enough it was the same type of whistle. I'm assuming it is the one I lost. Now all I need is someone to find my umbrella I left at Long John Silvers in Erwin, TN.Hawk, Catdog, and I got up early at Four Pines Hostel because we wanted to grab a ride to the trailhead from hostel owner Joe Mitchell on his way to work. I can't say enough good things about this simple hostel in a garage. The story on its evolution is just as compelling. Joe, a very laid back railroad worker, was carrying three jobs four years ago. One was in the convenient store down the street from his place. An old man hiker came into the store and asked him if he knew a good place to camp. He wanted to eat at the Homeplace before it closed in a half hour. Joe, fascinated with the appetites and determination of thru-hikers, told the old man that he can borrow his Bronco, leave his pack at the store, and head to the Homeplace for dinner. When he's done, Joe would let him sleep in his garage. This suited the old man fine. In the morning, the hiker said to Joe that his garage was great and he should make it into a hostel. "What's a hostel?" Joe asked. Well, the old man explained that he'll get the word out that he has a place near the Trail and let the hikers figure things out. The next year, Joe got over 400 visitors just on word of mouth alone. Now he dedicates some time to making sure the stores nearby have good resupply for thru-hikers.I personally liked the simple set up of the place where everyone can hang out and commiserate about the rough terrain of Dragons Tooth. The one night we were there, we met a south bounder named E.T., talked to Jitterbug and Hoover, and reunited with the Hobbits. It was a lot of fun.But the night brought rain and we had to hit the trail in the thick of it. Fortunately there were three shelters within a four mile stretch to give us some relief.Hawk decided to slow down his pace because the company relieved him of boredom. We also stuck together so we could take pictures of each other at McAfee Knob. Nice view eventhough the rain hadn't let up. But I preferred the Tinker Cliffs. Haven Rock, a large overhanging boulder that you could camp under, was also neat.Most of the hike was through the woods on rolling hills past powerlines and overlooking Carvin Cove Reservoir.Unfortunately we also got a blast of grafitti which annoyed and consoled us because we were getting close to Daleville and a hotel. I managed to make reservations from the hills three hours before reaching the road.As we sat resting on an overlook, we heard a familiar voice approach from the north. Sir Fix-A-Lot was hiking with a couple south to the next shelter. Where was Blue Sky, his wife? Sadly, she had to drop out in Bland and now Fix-A-Lot was contemplating why he was still doing the trail without her. As we walked away, we all remarked that it was a matter of time before Sir Fix-A-Lot would quit too. I think we were all surprised and saddened by this news.The rest of the hike took forever because Wingfoot had the landmarks wrong and we kept thinking we were closer to the road than reality permitted. From the ridge we could hear and see the cities clearly. But as we descended into deep, muddy woods, we felt far away from civilization.After Tinker Creek, we strolled through tall grassy fields that resembled an English garden. The aroma of lilacs were intoxicating but seconded only by the enticing smell of McDonald's fries.Without warning, the Trail dropped us on a busy ramp runoff with a gas station across the street, a Pizza Hut, and hotels all around. Cars zipped by at a disorienting speed. But all we felt was relief.What is strange is that all three of us thought our feet hurt the most after today's hike. We could hardly stand as we waited to be seated at Pizza Hut. We also sat in wonderment at why people were quitting now. And why we felt slightly defeated and sad. Was the Trail breaking us? Was there no more fun to the adventure? While we pondered this we also realized that quitting had never crossed our minds. Nor did we question our reasons for embarking on the great walk north. We honestly didn't think about it. But obviously others had analyzed their motives vs. the "pain, rain, Maine" thing and said "Enough!"