Date: 2011-05-11
From: Four Pines Hostel

To: Tinker Cliffs
Miles today: 14.8

(In which I camp on the Tinker Cliffs)I sleep well on the concrete garage floor, which is smoother and more comfortable than the wooden planks of a shelter. In the morning my sunburn has faded, but my bug bites are, if anything, a bit worse than the previous day. Both of my palms are slightly swollen from bites I had gotten there, and my upper lip is puffy with a bite through my beard. The twelve bites on my right hand and arm all itch fiercely after I scratch them, the scratching giving brief but blissful pleasure, though the itching slowly fades when I can ignore them for long enough. I wonder if they are mosquito bites after all, though I had heard the distinctive whine, and not spider bites or something else. Tom, who also got bitten in the shelter the night I did, gives me some anti-itch cream, with the disclaimer that its effectiveness is debatable.Yesterday I met Charlie, the would-be triple triple crowner, for the first time in a month, having finally caught back up with him. Charlie took his first zero day at the Four Pines Hostel and I am tempted to follow suit, the idea of a relaxing day with my book and proximity to the store both appealing. The main motivation for me to move is that the hostel doesn't have internet of any kind, and my Kindle doesn't have service. The second motivation is that McAfee Knob, one of the best views in Virginia, is less than ten miles away. The thought of a short day with a long break at McAfee Knob, hopefully with cell service, is even more appealing, and that would put me within range for a relatively short next day in to Daleville. The sky is overcast and I decide to at least wait out the morning in the hostel.I spend a lazy morning eating, reading and chatting with other hikers. Stretch has a new model iPod Nano and he lets me use it with the headphones I had brought to use as ear plugs. After 41 days without it, music is overwhelmingly powerful, better than town food after a long week on the trail. (Stretch laughs at this. "No, do you know what's better than town food? Playing a guitar. Man, if I could get my base weight down low enough...") Tears come to my eyes listening to the sweet sounds of Simon and Garfunkel, John Denver and Bright Eyes. I immediately resolve to get my iPod Touch sent to me, and could probably be convinced to trade the weight of my camera for a hand-cranked phonograph if that was the only way to bring music on the trail.I eventually leave the hotel at 11am, after the mist has started to burn off and I've listened to a good percentage of Stretch's music collection.* * *I hike leisurely, knowing that I don't have to go far, and take breaks at every shelter and view. The other hikers I see pass me, but I am content and unhurried, having successfully shed all urgency, at least for the time being.When I get to McAfee Knob, the clouds still linger nearby, casting a haze over the view, but it is still beautiful. I sit and look out at the valley, I walk along the cliffs and I sit and read. Day hikers come up, some college kids, some older, and I take their pictures for them, and get mine taken in return. I stay until I grow chilly, and then I move on.There's a shelter just a mile down from the knob, and I stop there for a snack. I could stay here, I know, but the bugs have already started to come out, and I decide to sleep in my tent tonight, clouds or not. The shelter is empty and if I'm tenting I can do it anywhere, so I decide to hike some more.* * *I hike until the sky starts to grow darker, the clouds glowing, backlit by the sunset they must block, and the trail runs along a spectacular section of cliffs. The view is at least as good as the knob, but longer, with the trail running directly by the edge. It is one of the most beautiful spots I've seen on the trail, and I decide to camp on the grass just a dozen or so yards from the cliff. I set up my tent, pre-hang my bear bag, then sit and eat dinner on the edge of the cliff, my feet down on a small ledge below. When I finish eating, I brush my teeth, hang my food, and then go back to sit on the ledge.The evening is as close to perfect as I've had on the trail, and the only things I'm missing are people to share it with. Then I remember this journal, and I realize that I have those, too. Maybe not people who can be here in person, but people who will appreciate it. If food is precious to hikers because it is scarce and badly needed, then perhaps these moments in nature would be best appreciated by those who least have access to them. Those people who spend all day inside, working, taking care of others, and imagining what it would be like to be outdoors, to be on top of a mountain. Imagining it with the same longing that a hiker imagines a cold drink on a hot sunny day. I wish that I could hand this moment to them. Here, I would say. You need this more than I do. Enjoy it.You sit on the ledge in the twilight, and watch the lights slowly blink into existence. The air is nearly still, but you feel the softest of breezes against your face. It is quiet, and you can hear the distant barking of dogs from way down in the valley, and the faint buzz of a small propeller airplane somewhere far away. The crickets start chirping, and, once, you hear the soft whistle of a train.Tomorrow will be a good day, you know, with food and relaxation. But as much as ever, you are content with the present, and want to dwell in this moment as long as you can. You will remember this moment for years, you know, after you have forgotten so many other things. After years of life have changed you into somebody else, you will remember this moment and it will be the connection from the person you are now to the person you will become.The memory is precious to you, warn smooth from use like a treasured heirloom. You can no longer remember why you hiked, or even if you knew the reason at the time, but you remember the pattern of lights down in the valley. You remember the way the mist rolled in, giving the lights a hazy, soft glow. You remember sitting for an ageless time, finally going to bed only when waves of tiredness rolled in like the fog. If you close your eyes you can imagine that you are still on that ridge now, that you are lying in your tent. Tomorrow you will wake up and you will be thirty again, so filled with hope and anticipation, and you will go and live your life.