Date: 2009-06-03
From: Bearfence Mtn Hut

To: Rock Spring Hut
Miles today: 11.5
Weather: few clouds

June 3--A late start, a long lunch and an early finish made for a low milage day. The late start was due partly to a hangover from the previous long day's seemingly endless last 2m, and partly because of my noisy neighbors who cooed and giggled from dawn 'til they left. The tent is a comfortable place, my place, private, dry, and warm if necessary. The long lunch was at the Big Meadows Lodge where I pigged in a classy dining room on apple fritters, a pulled pork sandwich and a virginia ham and melted cheese sandwich. The 1/3 lb cheeseburger was my first choice until I found there is no rare in VA, just well done. D'ya sell many of these? Even NJ, with a rule for every law, has rare. The early finish was a logistics thing. I will end up in Luray, VA tomorrow for a mail drop and, because of water availability, rather, lack there of, this made sense, even quitting before 18:00, leaving ~14m for tomorrow. Dumb luck bonus! Tent set and settled in, thunder could be heard from all directions as I cooked dinner, closer, and it grew darker quickly as the winds swirled, darker quickly, as if contolled by a light dimmer. Then finally, a loud crack on the tent fly as the first precipitate hit, then more followed, loud snaps as they smacked the cover and rolled to the ground, it was hail, .50 calibur musket ball sized, then pea sized after 15 seconds and after a minute all rain, driving hard at times, in sheets I imagine, with lightning and thunder almost constant and the wind gusting, I tried to remember pressing all of the stakes in all of the way, and I realized that if I lost the fly, I'm dead, so I repacked most everything and was ready to pull on the pack cover. It all lasted little more than a half hour and now, the once 85 degreeish day is ending in the chilly wind 50s. So, hail had been the only type of precipitation that I hadn't seen. At my old job, someone may've said, "A check in the box", but at my new job, I just write it down. There was a few nice overlooks this afternoon right on the AT, one in particular was near the lodge, called Blackrock. I met a PATC volunteer today and during our conversation he referred to the lodge and the campground stores as tourist traps. That was a little cynical even for me and I reminded him how nice it is to be able to wash my hands and face with hot water, ahh, the conversation was pretty one sided anyway. I may be losing what ability I once had to comnunicate one on one with strangers, esp non thru-hikers, weekenders and day hikers, and I think it is related to my new perception of time and distance. Often while hiking, other thru-hikers will ask, "What day is it?", understandable, they all seem the same, and near a town of interest, esp for a mail drop, it is important to know where the weekend is, there is nothing worse than wasting a day waiting for the PO. But when someone asks me, "What time is it?", I want to ask, "Why... Oprah? Wapner a 4?" I'm in the habit of using my watch all day as a stop watch to measure distance, again based on 2m/hr. Someone once saw my watch and asked, "Wow, is it really 1.30?" I flicked a button, "No, its 2.20". "Oh sh*t, that late?", he asked. "Why ask then", I thought. I remember walking on Mother's Day weekend, Saturday, a lovely morning when 2 weekenders approached, 2 men, who I later gave the manes the Senator and the colonel, a lt. colonel he'd be, sort of the senator's boy even though nearly 60, the senator easily 72, I could've named him Mr Dithers. Coming closer I gave my usual "G'Mornin'" or "Hello there" to which the senator in the lead demands, "Hey how far is it to the Hurricane Mtn Shelter?" I stopped, and trying to look my grubbiest said, "Oh, about 1/2 hr", and after a quick glance at my watch which indicated 20 minutes. "Was anyone there?", the senator snapped, "I didn't stop", my reply. "Well if it took you 1/2 hr it'll take us longer because we're going uphill". I looked at the colonel for clarification, he said, "We saw a campsite not too far back and with the threat of rain we're not sure that we can make it to the shelter". My reaction by now was what are you doing in the woods and why am I talking to you. "You should be fine, it took me 20 minutes to get here." The senator started stammering about unfolding maps and reaching for his pack straps. I though I'd give the colonel a chance, so I asked, "Have you heard the local forecast?" He was perfect with the complete 7 day which sailed right past me as I smiled past him. He'll never make full bird. I get an opportunity to ask one of my favorite questions every time I arrive at a shelter where others are sitting around, "Is the water nearby?" It is the type of question that forces the responders to provide more than yes/no at the risk of being rude or unfriendly, and for that matter, it is the only way that I can ask for that information. "Where's the water?" is rather stiff and "Could you please tell me where I can find the water?" would get me slapped. In civilian milieu I use the same phrase for the restroom or any other simple, common use facility mostly to see how the person answers. Another question came up in conversation with a group of dayhikers, yesterday, during 20 questions, Q#3 and I gave my standard A#3: "I'm going by myself, but I won't be alone."