Date: 2010-06-24
From: Allenberry Resort and Playhouse / Boiling Springs

To: Cove Mountain Shelter
Miles today: 21.6
Weather: scattered clouds

~~~The Best and the Worst of the Trail on the Very Same Day~~~This day started out so great and ended so badly, it has been a shock to my system and psyche. I can barely type the day out. It started with a gorgeous day, hiking just up the road from the Allenberry to start the trail again, hiking thru this cool, green tunnel with blackberries on both sides. Free breakfast. It comes out into these lovely farms of the Cumberland Gap, the richest farming of the country. I met so many people; a section hiker named Tiptoe, a lovely older woman who gave me lots of good advice, Gini Maus, who was taking care of brush along the property that borders the AT (she did 1200 miles of the trail in 2004 and is the Volunteer Corridor Monitor for the ATC in this area), this wonderful man named Leonard who was treating his field of soybeans and told me how he petitioned in 1991 to allows the AT to go thru the valley undisturbed as the ATC wanted at one time to plant trees along where the Trail would go. But the fields were so beautiful and such an important part of the community and economy, they decided to just route the Trail to border these fields and Thank God because I was singing God Bless America, it was just so great. I had wheat on one side of me and corn on the other and these barns were here and there and it was just a photographic essay of the heartland of America; words cannot describe it. It enthralled me.Hiked on to the Scott Farm Trail Work Center which, for us, was a bench for a break with a water pump (sweet !). Lorod was there cooking up lunch (he cooks every meal and eats a ton of food) and Timber, Rabid and Tour Guide, a lovely guy from Alabama, also joined us. Everyone took a snack break except me; no will for food, but I did load up on the fresh water. Took off when we heard thunder and I should have followed my gut instincts and stayed put until the storm was past, but no....I had to hike on out. And of course, it poured. And I mean it rained and poured so hard and so fast that I didn't have the time to fish my poncho out. I did have the foresight to bag up Snoopy before I left, but the rest of the pack and myself, it was not fun. My shoes and socks and blister took a real pounding. In some ways, it cooled me off as the heat and humidity were brutal, but hiking in wet shoes on a trail that resembled a river was a low point.The sun came out and again, I was hiking thru fields of wheat and cows and beautiful farmland. My destination was Darlington Shelter which would have made a 14 mile day for me, rather long for just being in my second week out, but doable. Lorod and the rest were heading there too. To get to any shelter you have to hike to the very, very top of that mountain so you can do way, way down into the valley part where the water is supposed to be. So, hiking on in squishy shoes, my blister pad rubbed off, pack heavy with rainwater and the signs that indicate where the shelter is are a bit confusing as there are several signs pointing in various directions for other trails and I read it twice and....I hiked on to where I thought I was supposed to go. To me, the sign indicated that the shelter was just off the AT...turns out, that was not the case. By the time I hiked on and realized that I had completely missed the shelter, it was too late to turn back. The next shelter was 7.1 miles away. I hate to retrace steps, as any hiker hates to do, so I made the fatal mistake to plug forward. Fortunately for me, the weather was gorgeous. Lots of sun and I just kept that in mind as I hiked mile after mile. After several hours, I see this blue blaze, indicating a side trail. Desperate not to want to miss this shelter, I stupidly took it. It was a trail that went straight, straight down. At one point, it was so steep that I slipped and slid down part of it. In my tired and beaten mind, I lacked the experience to see that the leaves had not been trampled by other shoes and boots. I was increasingly worried that I was on the wrong trail and even yelled down in the hopes that there was a shelter at the bottom of this abyss. Nothing.I made the decision to go back up to the top and I had to scramble on my knees part of the way to make it back to to the top where the AT trail was, it was so steep and I was so very tired. I cried. And had there been a helicopter to take me off that mountain, I would have quit right there. I cannot remember a time where I was so defeated.I eventually made my way back down the Trail and finally saw the sign for the Cove Mountain Shelter and I started to cry again, for I knew I at least had a home for the evening. Even the trail down to the shelter was rather steep but when I saw a bear bag hanging in the tree, I cried again, for I knew that not only did I have a place to rest, but I would not be alone.A hiker named Chick Magnet, whom I have been reading his entry's in the shelter journals, was also equally grateful that he would not have to sleep alone. This particular shelter was made from wood taken from an 100 year old barn and had a kind of spooky aura to it. It was also buggy. Chick Magnet had set his tent up in the bunk and I rigged my hammock so I could use the netting. (Chick Magnet got his name because he was hiking and found this little Easter chick on the trail and when he got to the next shelter and asked if it belonged to someone, a female hiker was overcome because this was a special gift to her and she had lost it and hence, his name became Chick Magnet....see, I know what you THOUGHT his name was for; trail names don't always have a logical reason).I found a sleeping bag on the trail before I got to the shelter and was hoping that the owner would be there. Alas, she was not and it has to belong to a girl as its XXS Marmot. I hiked in all that extra weight to the Doyle Hotel and left a message in the journal for the info to pass up and down the Trail ( yes, info travels really fast here). Heard some animal, probably a porkypine, gnawing on the wood; could care less. Too tired to even look.