Date: 2004-10-11
From: Lost Mountain Shelter

To: Damascus
Miles today: 18.0
Weather: overcast clouds

Today I woke up at 7 am to see Charlie and Epiphany ready to go. I got out at 8 after being donated some trail mix by Night Rain. Mrs. Freshly's Jumbo Honey Buns are probably going to haunt the rest of the A.T. Night Rain, the poor guy, looked positively sick after swallowing up two of them, but just couldn't stomach the third. I'll start my calorie challenge later -- all I really want to do is get to town! I decided to take the Virginia Creeper trail, an old rail bed that's been converted to bike trail, at the first trestle crossing, so I only hiked 2 of the miles on the A.T. today. I am so glad I decided on that! There couldn't be a prettier route through the area. For two miles longer, it's a whole lot flatter, and goes over about a dozen sturdy bridges. I met a lot of bikers towards the end, but in the beginning I was quite alone. Even taking a quick snack break by a sandy, blue-watered swimming hole, I practically flew into Damascus at 11 am. I didn't even know it was possible to walk that fast. Epiphany's footsteps were the only fresh ones, and man, she was stretching her legs far, too! Most of the time I try to find the hostel, take my pack off, maybe shower, before shopping in town, but I was still reved up when I stepped into the Mount Rogers Outfitters, first thing. I really, really wanted that new pack, but the shop keepers there took one look at me and gave me refridgerated bottled water. I took this one pack, the ULA P2 all over town, put my stuff in it, etc. It was nice, but a very different feel from the inflexible Gregory Palisade. I went over to Sundog Outfitters, but when I tried on the Vapor Trail, Ozone, and it's friends, I found those packs formed this little painful pressure point in the middle of my back. So I went and bought the best pack in the world, the ULA P2, size small, extra small waist belt. They even sent my Gregory pack back to New York. satisfied, I went to find the hostel, and showered. It was time for the calorie challenge. Let's just say even though it involved 3 loaves of bread and 3 huge plates of Spaghetti, with Night Rain practically dead, there was no way that my "Free Spirit the Ravenous" superpowers could surpass the skills of one hungry Smokey the Bear. At "The Place," the hiker hostel in Damascus, I found that Smokey, Cobol, and Fort Wayne had decided to rent a car to find his friend Pisses in the Wind, who was a ways up the trail. When a former thru-hiker and very energetic old lady named Sparkler asked Rocket Ron and me if we wanted to go to a bluegrass festival in a nearby town, it seemed like the perfect thing to do. The town ended up being the one that the Creeper Trail went through, so I had just been there. "Festival" meant weekly gathering of yodelers at the town's one-room center, complete with hotdog stand, but it was awesome. Some of the top bluegrass musicians in the country were there. I had never listened to bluegrass before, but after hearing these people and seeing this little slice of Americana, I knew that I would always be drawn to it. It really does seem like it's the voice of the Southern Appalachians. The only problem was that there was no Vegan food there, which severly cut into my calorie challenge. And, of course, I was hungry. I slept well after some more spaghetti, but it was weird. I knew fellow hikers should be around, but where?