Date: 2004-05-20
From: Wapiti Shelter

To: Pearisburg, VA
Miles today: 16.2
Weather: scattered clouds

Yes, it was painful. And yes, I cried. But I was hiking with Catdogs, Wags, and Chicago and that helped lighten things.Catdog, Wags, and I shared the Wapiti Shelter while Chicago slept in his tent. It was a great shelter but I later learned that a couple was murdered there twenty years ago. I had also heard that the shelter had been moved or rebuilt.Regardless, I felt comfortable among the tall trees and near a bubbling, excuse me, raging river.I was low on Ibuprofen so Catdog gave me four more and said I can always ask for more. Here's what I have learned about anti-inflammatory painkillers and a hiker's self prescription dosage--take as many as you want as long as you do not exceed 24 tablets in 24 hours.Actually, people take four and then when the pain comes back, they take two to four again regardless of how much time has passed. I have heard hikers swear that you can live like this for the duration of six months and you will not die nor will you develop ulcers.My take on NSAIDs is that they desguise the pain. The pain is telling you something such as "Rest, Stupid!" or "Pitch the tent here!"By the end of the first mile, I had gotten the message my left leg was telling me and began to pop the drugs at a consistent rate. I had no fear of exceeding 24 tablets because I only had eight pills to my name.The first part of the hike that day was uphill and that suited me fine. The pull of gravity put less stress on my feet. Uphills are just fatiguing. But shortly, we reached the downhills and "pleasant" horizontal traverses and the pain went from dull ache to sharp. I would try to ignore it. Then I would analyze it carefully trying to determine where the pain really was in my leg. I used music to distract me. I thought happy thoughts of lying on a hotel bed with my foot propped up with ice on it and a remote control. Somewhere in the day, the pain just became a part of my hike and I turned into a zombie.At lunch, we stopped at Doc's Knob Shelter. I couldn't believe I made it that far. I thought I was going to walk to the Woodshole Hostel and beg a ride to Pearisburg.The only decent view I remember was after a nasty uphill to a clear cut for powerlines. Chicago met up with us then and pulled out a cigerette. He hopes to quit smoking before he gets to Katahdin. Catdog looked at the map and said, "We only have 7.8 miles to go.""Cool," Chicago said with relief. "I thought we had 8 miles to go."He sped ahead of us after we all suggested getting together for dinner. After a disappointing view from Angel's Rest, Catdog and I tackled one of the worst downhills since Fontana Dam. It was narrow, steep, and muddy. By now, we were both in pain and took a rest every mile to glance at the map. Groan. More of the same until we hit town.When we got to Rendezvouz Motel, they had our reservations down incorrectly and there were no vacancies. So we called another motel and grabbed the last room. Before we left Rendezvous, we asked for our maildrops. They didn't have mine but I did get three surprise packages from friends back at home. Bluebearee, Noah & Sandi, and the Reis'--thank you! Thank you!Looking back, I can't say things were all that bad. But then again, I've been resting since that day. I know I was miserable but still joined everyone for dinner and drinks at a small Sports Pub in the town. Saltlick, Coyote, Lumber, Ski Bum, Palmtree and Wizard were all there.Wizard, apparently, had the same problems with his Chacos as I did. He returned them for a full refund, got a whiplashing over the phone from his wife for spending money recklessly, and bought some inexpensive trailrunnners in town. He gave me the number to call so that I may do the same.All's well that ends well? We shall see.