Date: 2013-06-09
From: Dutch Haus B&B, Spy Rock Rd.

To: Harper Creek Shelter
Miles today: 11.9

Boy did I sleep well last night! Breakfast was at 7 a.m., so I held out until 6:30 before I crawled out of bed. I tried to get as much stuff packed up before I headed downstairs. I could smell onions frying. I really wasn't hungry, but somehow I would find a way.... Lois set a heaping plate of breakfast wonder in front of me. Scrambled eggs, sausage patties, fresh apples and cantalope, hash browns and french toast topped with poached strawberries. And coffee, plenty of coffee. I said that I never wanted to leave. Lois informed me that they would kick me out. LOL. We ate our breakfast and settled our bills. I signed the guest book, and Lois asked that be sure to send a success photo once we'd reached Katahdin. God, I hope I have a success photo to send. We all loaded up in the back of the pickup, and she drove us back up to the parking lot. And then we began the 1.1 mile trek back up the steep, rocking hill. The trail was full of snails and rocks. The sky was completely covered in uniform clouds, so was the forest. It was humid, but my feet felt fantastically dry. I trudged through the morning, moving slow and steady. I stopped at VA 826, nothing more than a dirt road lined with big rocks topped with small rock cairns. I stretched a bit, and that seemed to help. Occupy, Goldilocks and Helga passed. I decided not to stop at the Priest Shelter, but instead kept going. I would regret this because apparently the register was filled with trail confessions. It seemed that it was full of some juicy stuff. Instead I stopped at the lookout at top the Priest. It was nothing up white. Dense, solid fog. But honestly, by this time, I'm no longer surprised. My track record continues!As I came down the mountain, about half way down, I came to another lookout. I was below the clouds, so I had a white-washed view of the valley and farmland below. I decided it would make a great place for lunch. I dropped my pack and pulled out food. I also decided to call my parents-in-law. I managed to get in two bites and 3 minutes of conversation. I felt a rain drop. I told my mom-in-law that I had to go. The rain started coming down. I drug my stuff under the cover of trees and tried to pretend that I wasn't getting wet. My apple and cheese and summer sausage kept rolling down the hill, gathering leaves and dirt as it went. I was getting soaked. Finally, I just gave up, packed up and started down. The rain came down harder and harder. My dry socks weren't dry anymore. My boots filled with water as if someone had a water-hose directed at them. I could feel the cold wetness filter down over my shoulders, chest, back, stomach... Water dripped down from my hat, ran down my chin and neck. The downpour lasted for half an hour, maybe a little bit longer. All I could do was try to make my way down the hill as slowly and with as little impact on my knee as possible. As quickly as it had come, it stopped. Sun filtered through the trees. The humidity skyrocketed. The bugs moved in in droves. They swarmed my head and tried to settle in my ears. I tried to swat them away, but they seemed to just think it was a fun game we were playing. It was everything I could do not to scream. But I knew it would do no good. I passed a group of Boy Scouts out for a weekend trip, and for the first time I envied them. They would be out of this hell in a day. My hell would continue for a few more months. A gnat flew into my eye. It burned. I tried to dig it out, but I had no mirror. I pulled out my phone to try to use the "self-portrait" feature to get the bug out. But it was too humid. Steam formed on the screen and it wouldn't work. AHHHHH!!!!! I was starting to pass all these awesome swimming holes, but all I could think of was how to get this damn bug out of my eye. I was having exactly zero fun. I got down to the road, and there were several cars parked in the lot. I found a driver's side mirror and went to investigating. Sure enough, in the far corner of my eye was a solid little black lump. I hope the little bastard had a painful, slow death. My positive mental attitude was shot. Between the weather, the bugs, my knee, the perpetually wet socks, the rocks and hills of "flat, ease Virginia", I was fed up. But I was also sort of in the middle of nowhere.I kept walking. I crossed the road and the suspension bridge traversing the Tye River. There was an awesome swimming hole, but the afternoon was forecast-ed for thunderstorms, and I wanted to have a spot in the shelter. And there was a bitch of a climb ahead of me. The sun was shining bright, but the forest was hot and steamy. My shirt was soaked through. I trudged up the steep hill, wondering if I would ever think this to be fun again. I've notice that many of us have lost that "twinkle" in our eye. The realization of what we still have to face (we're not half way yet) has been sinking in as of late. I crossed Harper Creek. There were many pools and cascades. They looked so inviting. I thought that maybe I would walk back down to these spots once I got my self sorted at the shelter. But once I got up to the shelter, I realized that this wouldn't be necessary. The creek passed directly in front of the shelter. In fact you have to cross the creek to get to the shelter. Long Island was already there, as was Sonny. I dropped my pack and immediately shed my wet clothes. I walked down to a deepish spot in the creek and sat down. The cold waters rushed over my legs. Even on my water-logged feet, the water felt great. I sat there for 10 minutes, feeling my spirits leaven a bit. I made dinner and chatted with my shelter-mates. A sound came rushing through the trees. I realized it was another downpour. I grabbed my stuff and crawled into the shelter. Sporadic downpours happened throughout the evening. I have a feeling this is what we'll be facing for the foreseeable future. Breeze, Wind, Buckles and Cheese showed up in the middle of one of the downpours. They certainly didn't look to be having much fun. But if misery loves anything, it's company, and there was plenty of that tonight. We laughed, big hearty belly laughs at the ridiculousness of our situation. Our wet clothes dangled from clothes line strung above our heads. Wet, muddy boots tucked under the shelter. Rain collecting in deepening puddles all around. The water level of the creek rising. Oh Appalachian Trail gods, where is your mercy?