Date: 2004-05-12
From: Layover in Hot Springs, NC

To: Different Subcultures
Miles today: 0.0

I am writing this entry several days late. My original draft was inadvertently lost, so I will be sparse with the details of what occurred during these days.I rested and re-supplied in Hot Springs, North Carolina, a small and friendly town. There, I enjoyed a reunion with hikers Wipe Out (formerly Olivia from the first night) and Nitro, another person from the early days in Georgia. The hiker Pope was also resting in town.At the same time, I was trying to decide whether or not to arrange for transportation that would take me to "Trail Days," a hiker festival in Virginia. It would mean leaving the trail for several days. Each year, dozens of section hikers and thru hikers emerge from the mountains of The Appalachian Trail and hitch hike or arrange transportation to this gathering. It is similar in spirit to the annual rendezvous¢ of the mountain men in the Rocky Mountains during the early 1800's.Wipe Out, Nitro, and Pope told me that they would not attend the festival, preferring to continue their hikes without interruption. They told me that Navigator and Chuggs, other hiker friends from the early days, had also chosen to push on with their hikes. Hearing this, I decided to nix the festival and continue on the trail.Later, I ran into hikers Knuckles (a woman) and JP, who I have also become friendly with. They urged me to join them and attend the festival. Two other hikers, Woe and Moxie, also expressed their enthusiasm to attend the festival. These individuals hike at a slightly slower pace then the first group of hikers just mentioned.I felt torn between a desire to push on and a desire to experience this unique cultural event. As a backdrop to this dilemma, I have been aware that on October 15, Baxter State Park in Maine, where the Appalachian Trail ends, will officially close. I might be bumping up against that date later in the hike. Too many layover days early on could haunt me.I am friendly with both groups of hikers, although the word groups is misleading. The individuals within each group do not always hike together, but they tend to travel at similar paces and become more familiar with each other than with other hikers. They share, to some extent, similar attitudes about their hiking strategies.The hikers from the first group push a little harder, the people in the latter group are more inclined to stop and take additional layover days in trail towns. I was caught between the priorities of these two groups, or sub cultures, of hikers. In the end, I opted to attend the festival.In the meantime, something odd occurred here in town. It happened when I noticed three girls¢the oldest was around eleven years old¢walking around Main Street and carrying a live rat snake which they had captured in their chicken coop. The black reptile was almost six feet long. The oldest girl, walking barefoot, was holding the snake. They had no fear of it. She and the girls were taking turns kissing the mouth of it. I asked them if I could take their photo, which they agreed to. As I composed the photo, the snake suddenly opened its mouth and vomited out some eggs. The eggs fell upon the pavement, broke open, and splattered yolk and chunks of eggshells over much of the older girl's bare foot. She was untroubled by the mess and the portrait session continued. They told me the snake had vomited chicken eggs that it had stolen at the chicken coop.The night before my departure to Virginia was spent in a hostel with Brother, Spider, and a hiker whose trail name I have forgotten.