Date: 2004-07-04
From: Rockfish Gap, Virginia

To: Into the Shenandoah
Miles today: 16.5

Leaving Waynesboro, my clothes and body were clean and dry. I stepped back on to the Appalachian Trail for the next phase of this journey, the hike through the Shenandoah National Park. A gray mist permeated the forest. It began to rain.In the woods, a hiker has a deadline of one to three minutes to react before a hard rain breaks through the canopy of foliage and lands upon the ground.I had not expected inclement weather. My sandals and pack cover were stored inside my backpack. My umbrella was the only rain item that was easily accessible. I feverishly dug into the backpack for the sandals and pack cover. I missed the deadline and a hard rain began falling on me. I opened the umbrella and held it over me for protection as I bent over the backpack. It was awkward, holding the umbrella in one hand and rummaging through the pack with the other hand. Parts of my clothing and backpack were exposed to the rain and got wet. I put the umbrella aside and used both hands to put on the sandals, store away my hiking shoes, and place the rain cover over the pack. With these tasks completed, I shouldered the pack, held up my umbrella, and resumed hiking.The rain was torrential. In spite of the protection from the umbrella, my pants and socks became soaked. Even my underwear briefs got wet. To ventilate my sweat, I did not wear a rain jacket. My shirt became somewhat wet from the rain. During this onslaught, I caught up to JP and Knuckles. They were hunkered down beside the trail and wearing rain gear. In spite of the grim weather, Knuckles greeted me with her typical bubbly enthusiasm. JP said hi, but appeared more preoccupied with riding out this miserable weather. I chatted with them and moved on.The trail led me through some rocky stretches. At one such location, I slipped on a wet rock and fell sideways to the ground. The fall did not injure me.The rain let up. JP and Knuckles soon caught up to me and we hiked together. As we hiked closer to a road, JP said that he was feeling sick. He said he might return to Waynesboro. When we reached the road, he sat down to consider his options. He and Knuckles talked about the possibility of thumbing a ride to Rockfish Gap, where we started hiking today, and telephoning one of the volunteer shuttle drivers for a ride into Waynesboro.I wished JP a speedy recovery and resumed hiking. Later in the morning, I ran into Inchworm and we hiked together.On the top of a mountain, some tractor seats are affixed into the ground in a half circle pattern. I don't know if these seats represent a work of art or just a seating arrangement, albeit an unusual one. Inchworm sat down on one of these seats and it leaned backwards, keeling her over. She lay upon the ground with her backpack below her. She was not hurt and we laughed at what had happened.At 2:30 p.m., we came upon a spur trail which led to a shelter. Inchworm expressed her intention to camp at this shelter. I told her that I would continue hiking. It was too early in the afternoon for me to stop.Inchworm will be returning home to her husband when she reaches Harper's Ferry in West Virginia. From the beginning, it has been her intention to hike for about one hundred days. This afternoon, when I said goodbye to her, I wondered if this would be our final goodbye. But I did not give her a hug or anything like that. Chances are, we will meet again on this trail and then I will give her a final hug goodbye. She has this uncanny ability to show up unexpectedly, and I expect it to happen again.During the mid afternoon, I stopped at a sunny spot, took off my wet clothes, and placed them on some rocks to dry. There was nobody around, so I stood naked and let the sun dry my damp body. When I put the clothes back on, they were still damp, but at least my wet skin was somewhat drier.I hiked by some springs but did not stop to draw water because it would have added weight to my load.The trail led me along the top of what seems to be a single, wooded ridge line. Sometimes the trail dips down and follows the upper flank of this ridge. This is the same ridge that the Skyline Drive follows. The terrain is relatively easy, without many steep inclines. The trail often crosses the parkway. Some of these crossings occur at scenic overlooks with parking lots.There were no decent viewpoints along the trail except at these road crossings.Later in the day, I heard rumblings of thunder in the distance. Sudden breezes came and went. The sky was misting up. Clearly, a thunderstorm was brewing. It was imperative that I stop hiking and make camp. I did not want to endure another soaking.But there were a pair of complications to deal with. I was thirsty and low on water. Up on this ridge, there were no water sources. I regretted having neglected to fill up my reserve container back at those springs. The other complication was the terrain; it was thick with brush and often steep.I quickened my pace, hoping to find a stream to draw water and then find a suitable place to camp. A day hiker had told me about a spur trail, 1 1\2 miles ahead, that descended toward a stream. That sounded good to me.The thunder came closer and my apprehension grew. I decided to skip the search for water and immediately string up my tarp. I noticed an old spur trail, followed it briefly, and stopped hiking. With the storm imminent, I hurriedly set up my tarp in a brushy spot beside the trail. At the bottom of this abandoned trail was a small parking lot for hikers. There were four cars parked there. As the rain began to fall, I noticed two people walking toward their vehicle. I grabbed my umbrella, descended the trail, and gave them a shout as I pushed through some brush. I asked them if they had any spare water. They poured almost two liters of water into my reserve bladder. I thanked them and hiked back into the woods amid the downpour.Under the tarp, I quenched my thirst and ate a dry supper. Then I hoisted my bear bag up a tree.Oops! My butane lighter was stored inside the bear bag. I needed it to light the sparklers I had packed in on this Fourth of July.It is dark out. I am now resting in the hammock. Off in the distance are the sounds of fireworks. The explosions are creating faint pulses of light through the canopy of the forest and the fabric of my tarp.