Date: 2006-04-25
From: Double Springs Shelter

To: Damascus, VA
Miles today: 13.3
Weather: broken clouds

Three states behind me, I've walked from Geaorgia to Virginia. I'm doing what I came here to do. I'm not really sure how to describe it. I walk and I carry what I need. Looking back, the feeling isn't love although I do love what I'm doing. It's not acomplishment exactly, not yet. It will be, but not yet. It's satisfaction mixed with a little pride. It's not the amazement I felt every day in Georgia that I'm really here, although I still feel that sometimes when I'm out on the trail ticking off the white blazes and watching my feet as I move north. No, it's satisfaction that I am where I am and I'm doing what I want to do. I'm doing exactly what I want to do. I follow my rules and expectations. When I crossed the Virginia state line I didn't jump for joy. I sat down and had a leisurely lunch. When I got up and moved on I did turn back and whoop, but it was half-hearted and I felt stupid. It felt obligatory and I won't do it again unless there's real motivation behind it.A mile or so before the line, I met 2 southbound section hikers. They were headed for Springer Mountain and had 5 miles on their boots. They acted humble and almost apologetic when they talked to me as if I were somehow superior or had something they didn't have. All I have is what I've learned in 450 miles, the distance they are hiking south. One of them said they were only section hikers as if they had less right to be there and were taking on a lesser task. I said three cheers for section hikers, for anyone who wants to do this thing and takes it on. I told them that Mr. Breeze was behind me finishing his last section and finishing the trail. They said that they were both 60 like they were a little deluded for thinking they could hike. I said that I'm in the minority not them. They'd meet Chill Out who was right behind me. In the next couple of days they'll also run into Irish, Handle Bar, Iron Wolf and Free at Last among many others. I admired these guys. They looked pretty green, probably inexperienced with brand new gear and clothes, but they were heading out to hike almost 500 miles. I wondered if they knew they were doing one of the hardest sections of the trail first. But I didn't ask them. They'll learn and they'll either make it all the way down there or they won't. I know what's behind me and what i did to get this far and it's damn hard. But when I started I didn't know much either. I just knew there was a trail ahead of me and I was getting to walk on it every day for a long time.Chill Out came up when I was eating my lunch. We'd been passing each other all day. I like to stop for breaks. He's a steady hiker with a steady pace who only stops for lunch and then keeps walking. This is his second attempt at the trail. Last year he hiked all the way to New Jersey and had to quit with a stress fracture. Here he is trying it again from the very beginning. He has to call home when he gets in to town. His daughter just had a baby and he needs to know if she had a boy or a girl.It was warm and very humid today. Sounds like a taste of what I should expect from the whole hike through Virginia. When I got to Damascus I felt like I'd done a much bigger day than 13 miles. I was weaving and goofy with ---Like Hot Springs, Damascus is a hiker town. As soon as I stepped foot on the sidewalk I saw Chill Out a block down pointing to a soda machine placed so it was facing all incoming hikers. Orange Crush! All I could think was Orange Crush. But no, with dashed hopes I passed it by.The local outfitter has chairs for hikers to sit in the shade. I parked my pack and saw Stump Knocker sitting there. We exchanged a hiker's greeting, me with relief, him with the smile of knowing what's out there. We both know that this is hard and that we put ourselves through it of our own free will.There's an almost free hostel in town called The Place. Before I could get there I became distracted by all the hikers in town, plenty of folks to greet and catch up with. And food. I was still staggering and needed food. I stumbled into the pizza place, perfectly happy to leave my pack on the sidewalk a block away, and flopped into a booth with 4 others.Damn, I should have expected it, no Orange Crush. So far my only reasons to hate the South are Pepsi, Mountain Dew and Dr. Pepper and nothing else. I ordered sweet tea with my tuna sub and remembered that soda machine. Back out I went, practically delirious, for a can of grape Fanta. It ain't Crush, but it ain't bad.I don't like to stay long in town, but in a hiker town like this the first few hours are ecstacy. After parking my pack on a shelf like bunk at The Place and scrubbing off days of trail grime in the shower with my bandana and trail soap i heard there was ice cream. A pack of us set out for Dairy King. Chocolate shake, chocolate shake, must have a chocolate shake. We tried to entice Chill Out who was walking the other way on the other side of the street. He smiled and declined. That man definitely hears a different drummer. Hell, we all do. We're hikers.