Date: 2004-06-26
From: Matt's Creek Shelter

To: Crickets, Dogs, Toads, & Dinosaurs
Miles today: 2.2

Last night, the no see-um bugs were attacking me as I lay on the floor of the shelter. Desperate for relief, I opened up my hammock, spread it across the floor, and crawled inside where the mosquito netting provided me with protection. It was stuffy inside and the netting was too close to my face. I tried to elevate the netting with string connected to a post and nails on the wall. That approach did not succeed. I tried opening up my umbrella inside the hammock. That method raised the netting, but it was still too hot and stuffy inside. Finally, I strung up the hammock across a section of the shelter. Shivers was sleeping in the center and Susan was lying on the opposite side. The hammock would not get in their way.I could not extend the hammock to its optimum length. When I lay inside of it, my body sagged more than usual, but hey, I was inaccessible to those bugs and the ventilation was good. I slept well after that. At the crack of dawn, I was awakened by a cricket that had flown into the shelter and landed somewhere in the ceiling above my mosquito netting. The insect kept up its noisy racket for several minutes.It was early in the morning when Shivers, Susan, and I finished loading up our backpacks. The Boy Scouts were emerging from their tents along with their big black dog named Jackson. The animal walked over to a spot near the shelter, and directly beside the Appalachian Trail, and took a crap. With that image fresh in my mind, I hit the trail. At my feet, lots of baby toads were hopping to and fro. They were hard to see because the color of their skin blended with the color of the trail. I walked slowly to avoid stepping on them.The trail led me along the banks of the James River to a road crossing. My plan was to hitch a ride to the town of Glasgow, Tennessee for rest and resupply. Shivers was already thumbing a ride. A driver pulled over and Shivers asked the man if he would also give me a ride. The man agreed.Glasgow is a tiny community with just over 1000 residents. There are statues of dinosaurs in prominent locations and on the roofs of some buildings. I was told that a local artist erected the statues as an April Fools joke, and the town has since used dinosaurs as a gimmick to attract tourists. There are t-shirts for sale with pictures of dinosaurs. The shirts read, "Glasgow, The Town that Time Forgot." The artist also erected a partial replica of Stonehenge in another town in the area. He used foam to recreate the large slabs of rock. The locals nicknamed the site, "Foamhenge."At the post office, I shipped some items ahead to Waynesboro, VA and mailed some excess clothing back home.I visited a laundromat. This is always an unusual situation. Most hikers, myself included, carry minimal amounts of clothing in order to keep our loads light. Most of the clothing we carry gets worn and becomes dirty. At a laundromat, there is hardly any clean clothing for me to wear while the dirty clothes are being washed. Today in the laundromat, I wore a pair of short pants, sandals, and my rain jacket. Almost every other article of clothing I possessed was placed into the washing machine. It gets hot in a laundromat during the summer, especially while wearing a rain jacket. But there were local women in the room and it would have been inappropriate for me to lounge about bare chested.In town, I visited the library and checked my e-mail. There was a goodbye message from Zip Off.Susan left town to continue hiking. Shivers thumbed a ride out of town with a similar intention. His plan fell apart when he discovered that his wallet was missing.I met him when he thumbed back to town. We traced back his movements during the morning and tried to find the wallet, but it did not show up.I had booked a room at the only motel in town and told Shivers that he could leave his gear in the room as he searched for his wallet. I also told him that he could sleep on the other bed if he wished to remain in town overnight. I spent the afternoon resting and composing my trail journal at a picnic table under a tree outside the motel. A man strolled by with a hunting bow and arrow. I said hello. His name was Wayne. He was renting a room at the motel for a few weeks due to issues between himself and his wife. I followed him around to the rear of the building. There, he practiced his archery skills, shooting arrows into a bail of hay in a field. This guy was a great shot, hitting the center of the bail each time. Between shots, he chugged on a large bottle of beer. I asked him if I could shoot an arrow and he said okay. But then I changed my mind, not wanting to miss the target and sending his arrow into the adjoining woods where it would be lost.When Wayne drew back the drawstring on the bow, it would stretch all the way back to the area in front of his face. I noticed some fresh cuts on his face and asked him if the drawstring was the reason for them. He replied that the cuts were the result of a recent fight in a bar. He made it clear that he had prevailed during the fight. He said something like, "I moved the left side of his jaw all the way over to the right side."Shivers could not find his wallet and made arrangements for the shipment of replacement materials. He ended up staying overnight.Tomorrow I will shop for groceries and hitch hike back to the trail.