Date: 2003-06-01
From: Ashby Gap

To: Bears Den Hostel
Miles today: 13.2
Weather: broken clouds

June, the first day of my fourth month on the AT. And I'm not even halfway yet... Oh well. I'm on track mileagewise, with only 13-14 mile days required. And my mileage has picked up in the last few weeks with increased fitness and workable shoes.Scary wind today. It's really ripping at treetop level. Limbs and leaf debris shower down on me, on the Trail. The sound of cracking wood is not uncommon. I can't help but look up and run. "Widow-makers," is what Mike called hanging deadwood in this weather. Some trees with full canopies could not resist the wind, and their roots released their hold in the saturated soil. Over they went. I do get nailed by mid-morning. A limb the size of a hiking pole dropped like a spear and glanced off my left shoulder. OUCH! I spin around, ready to fight, but of course there is no one there. Need I wear my riding helmet out here?But I'm not going to complain, oh no. Not me, The Princess of Equanimity. It is a'blowin' hard, pretty chilly out, and quite cloudy - but IT IS NOT RAINING!One other thing - even when the wind was roaring, the songbirds were trilling. It is reassuring, somehow. If I can still hear a hermit thrush fluting over the wind, then all is right with the world.After a few muddy miles, I enter the infamous Roller Coaster - up and down and up and down."Ten 400-foot climbs in five miles," said Mike, although he admitted he didn't know the exact numbers. On the Trail itself, there is even a bragging sign about the toughness of The Coaster, from the trail designers ("See you later... if you survive," taunts the sign). The registers speak of the next ELEVEN miles of hills tho, not five. We shall see.What I find is an eroded, steep uphill track, rocky, un-switchedbacked. None of the climbs are tough at this point, just relentless and tiresome. Nothing to see at the top. Irritating. At the bottom, there is always mud. An uninspiring slog, but hey! I am out in the woods with the birds, so how bad could it really be? I must say one thing tho: If this is the only land available to connect pieces of the AT together, then that's one thing, I'll endure the PUDS. But if designers put the Trail here just for Club bragging rights, to "challenge" hikers, then I'll save my tendons and joint capsules for more inspiring scenery, thank you. GIve me some views if you're going to drag me up hills.The last two climbs after Sam Moore Shelter ARE more interesting, with actual views. There is one sketchy creek crossing though. It has volume, power, whitewater and descent. I figure any creek that can roar louder than today's wind deserves it's own footbridge. I make it across on a slippery log.I find the side trail at Bear's Den Rocks, a lovely westward view, and turn toward Bear's Den hostel. This lovely quartzite "castle" with its slate roof once housed a wealthy Washingtonian and his opera singer wife. They donated it to the Appalachian Trail Conference (ATC), the group that oversees the entire Trail. The ATC turned it into a hostel.As I draw near, I smell woodsmoke. A fire in the heart on this chilly eve! What a welcome.As I walk up the steps, another welcome: "We don't want any," teases Just Do It. He and Itchy Feet are here, and Notes is too. Papa Notes went home in Front Royal.Our cozy group spends a companionable evening around the fire reading, writing postcards, journaling, eating Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream with Matthew, the assistant manager, and a hosteling motorcyclist. One by one they leave, until only Matthew and I are left, reading.The wind blows hard outside, stirring the fire in the grate. I break the companionable silence. "Wow, it's really ripping," I say, almost in a whisper.He looks up and nods. There is the unspoken agreement: it is good to be inside, near a warm hearth.The wind blows all night. I hope it will blow some pretty weather our way. We've earned it.