Date: 2011-04-25
From: 1.1 Miles Before Clyde Smith Shelter

To: Overmountain Shelter
Miles today: 15.4
Weather: few clouds

(In which I climb Roan in the hail and sleep in a barn)After I have eaten and hung my bear bag, I stay up writing, and around 10pm I see the light of a headlamp bobbing down the trail. Muldoon, having gotten distracted chatting, is just now finishing hiking. He goes to set up his hammock and when he comes back to cook dinner, we chat for a while. Muldoon was a Java developer before the trail -- one of a handful of computer folk I have met so far -- and ask me about the Kindle application I wrote to post to Trail Journals (a Java app, but limited to the small framework of APIs accessible from the Kindle). We chat until nearly midnight -- my latest night on the trail so far -- and though I am tired I am glad to have the company. Since we sit beside each other with headlamps, and never shine our lights directly into the other's face, I don't know what he looks like, and find it odd to have talked so much with someone I wouldn't recognize down the trail without hearing his name, or voice.Having stayed up late, I sleep in until 8am, my latest yet. When I do get moving around 9, I still feel a bit sluggish -- a first for me hiking -- and I make a note to not stay up late before hiking.Today I face Roan Mountain, the last 6,000 foot mountain until Mount Washington in the Whites. Having slept in, I have timed my day inopportunely, and start climbing Roan in the heat of midday. I'm soon sweating, slowly climbing one step at a time, until a cloud rolls in, bringing shade and a welcome cool breeze. I enjoy the change in weather so much that I don't notice the cloud grow darker until all of a sudden hail starts falling from the sky. I am still wearing my t-shirt and shorts, and cry out at the stinging and sudden cold, but still being hot from the climb, soon find it refreshing.The air stays warm as it hails, and though my feet become wet (like the rest of me) and I have to be careful walking on piles of collected hail pellets, I find it easier to hike in the hail than it had been in the sun. When I reach the top (no views from the trail, or likely anywhere else with the weather), it has stopped hailing and a thermometer at the shelter reads 70 degrees.My clothes dry in no time in the heat, and soon I come to the beautiful Roan balds. The hail here has been replaced by wind, and I stagger and weave side to side like a drunk man, trying to stay upright. These winds are no comparison to those on Clingman's, but still nothing to be trifled with. I stand on each bald summit just long enough to appreciate the view, crouching to lower my center of balance, and hope that I can come back in calmer weather to fully enjoy these balds in a more relaxed manner.The shelter I stop at is one that I have looked forward to ever since seeing it in a picture, years ago. It is a barn converted for use by hikers, and the guidebook states that it can sleep 20 hikers, though when I actually see the barn I guess that it has probably held 60 or 70 at the same time. More than a dozen hikers are already set up, and the barn has the social atmosphere of a small hostel.I meet 'Blazes again who, having previously been a day ahead of me, has been derailed in the most pleasant manner by massive trail magic. A large crowd of ten or so hikers from '09 had held magic on the same bald that I had stopped for a snack with Guinness. 'Blazes speaks reverently of the trail magic as one might of a religious experience. The organizers, former hikers who knew what it was like to experience trail magic and wanted to connect with the '11 hikers, put on what 'Blazes declares was the perfect trail magic experience. Separate grill for meat and veggie burgers, soda and beers and every delicacy a hiker craves, all for the simple reason of making hikers happy. The gathering stopped dozens of hikers in their tracks, as plans to hike further were instantly abandoned, and they stayed up playing guitar and singing around the fire.Hearing 'Blazes describe it so fondly, I am filled more with vicarious satisfaction than with jealousy. Dark clouds roll in, and rain seems imminent. Tonight more than a dozen hikers will learn just how waterproof this barn is, and I'm glad to be one of them.