Date: 2013-05-07
From: The Hiker's Inn, Damascus, VA

To: The Hiker's Inn, Damascus, VA
Miles today: 0.0

I slept so, so well last night. I dreamt, thought I don't remember what about. By the Way was up and moving. I went downstairs and found Bitter Goat on the couch reading. I sat down and talked with him. I shared the rest of my cherries, and he shared his fresh blueberries. He'll be my roommate tonight. We had a great conversation. He's great company; quite intelligent and always has interesting perspectives.I went out on the front porch and talked with Matt for awhile. He's opening a woodshop and art gallery in town. He's staying at the Hiker's Inn until he's able to get his space renovated to a point of liveability. We chatted with each other and other hikers as they filed out of town. We wished them luck.I went over to Sundog Outfitters to organize my bike and shuttle. They said to come back in 45 mins when their driver arrived. No problem. I walked next door to Mojoe's. I had breakfast and laughed with some of the other customers and baristas. I got my caffine and butter fix, and then sashayed back next door. They fitted me for a bike, loaded me up and took me up the mountain. Bill and his dog, D.O.G., joined us. He and the driver, Tim (aka Mula), gave me a private tour on the way up, telling me all about the trails and secret places and where to watch out for bears and where I could go swimming. Tim dropped us at Green Cove Station. The trail usually starts up at Whitetop Mtn., but recent rains have washed out the trail. The mist was wafting in small thick clouds, clustering in the folds of the valley. Old barns and green hilly pastures were dotted with various breeds of beef cattle and christmas tree farms. They were so perfect, they seem staged by photographers looking for shots to put on puzzle boxes. I waved good-bye to Tim as he pulled away, and soon left Bill and D.O.G. behind; they were picking up garbage along the trail. I let gravity pull me down the VCT. I was so excited I felt like my skin was crackling with energy. The trees were just past their peak blooms and petals were sprinkled along the path. The trail was a bit wet, so I'd lift my legs high as I whizzed through the puddles. The creek beside the trail was churning and brown and swollen. I passed beaver dams and trout pools. Old train tressels converted into bridges crissed and crossed over the creek and high ravines. The AT joined the VCT in places. I stopped to take pictures. Tomorrow I'll pass by here with a pack, but today I have wheels!I passed one little community. The community center was a converted train caboose. Behind it was a dumpster. There was a sign that read: No Scavanging Allowed, Keep Out of Dumpster. I snickered and took a photo. Usually dumpster owners warn people not to throw stuff in their dumpsters. Suddenly, I heard some rustling. I looked around and realized there were little piles of junk laying outside the dumpster on the ground. There was someone in the dumpster, scavanging, at that very moment! I figured they wouldn't appreciate me there taking their photo so I took off. I saw Little SAS walking up the path. She's such a trooper. I gave her a hug and wished her luck. We continued in opposite directions. I leap-frogged a group of three other bikers. We were all having a marvelous time! I got into Damascus a little after noon. I stopped at "In the Country" for lunch. I've had such a good time eating my way through Damascus! I had a pimento cheese sandwich (second best only to my mother-in-laws pimento cheese), a cup of vegetable soup, a lemon bar and a big cup of lemonade. I settled in at a table upstairs next to a window. I saw the other three bikers coming in. They sat downstairs and didn't see me. I could hear them telling someone about a girl they had met who was hiking the AT. The girl had decided to take the day off and rented a bike to ride along the VCT while she was in the area. Suddenly, it dawned on me. They were talking about me. It made me feel proud. I smiled to myself. I finished lunch and continued through town. I saw Lee and Bayou and said "hi" to them. I road passed the three hairdressers in town. I've been trying to get my haircut since I arrived, but no one ever seems to be open. I rejoined the VCT and headed out of town. A few miles outside of town, I passed Bitter Goat biking in the opposite direction. He had decided to take the day off of hiking and explore the VCT as well. I passed through a lot of farm land, sometimes following close to the river and sometimes not. I passed two guys on foot. They were out watching the wildlife. They pointed out the Smith Farm. Two years prior a tornado had passed right through the middle of it blowing down trees, demolishing barns and knocking down a few of the tresseles. There's one big hill to ride down and up on the VCT; the tornado destroyed the tressel that used to traverse it. The rest of the VCT is so flat, you tend to forget how hilly the terrain really is. Now you remember. I soon found myself in Abington, a terminus of the VCT. I decided to have a look around. The town is quite old, lots of red brick. Every building seems to have a historical marker noting its place in history. I saw a sign that said "Tavern est. 1779". How do you pass that up? I parked my bike outside. I tried the door. It felt stuck. I put some real force into it, wiggling and shaking the handle. Man, this really is a tough one to open. Must be the age. I heard some rattling on the otherside. Then I heard a lock turn. Oh. A nice lady opened the door and apologized. They wouldn't open for another two hours. Oops! I was just glad I hadn't rammed my shoulder into it. I continued my tour of Abingdon. They had a few hairdressers, but they also seemed to be closed. Down the way I saw a barber's shop, the neon sign said "Open." Why not? It was on the other side of the street so I waited for the traffic to pass. There was a lot of it, and it was coming to a stand-still. I realized they were stopped for a mother duck and her brood of 8 or so tiny ducklings to cross the road and climb the curb on the opposite side. Big farm trucks with their diesel engines chugging waiting patiently for the little duck family to safely cross the road. What a sight! It was "feel good" moment.I walked into the barber shop and waited my turn. I was nervous I would get kicked out. I heard that barbers aren't always keen to cut women's hair. But I have a boy-ish sort of haircut these days, and I just want the wild curls to stop poking me in the ears. When it was my turn, I stepped forward. Jeff, the barber, was so kind and asked what I wanted. I didn't really know what to tell him, take a inch off? He carefully wrapped a piece of toilet tissue around my neck and then snuggly snapped the drop cloth around my neck. And he went a-cuttin'. We talked, and he asked me all about the AT. The customer behind me sat down in the chair beside me and joined in on the conversation. He cut and clipped and trimmed. My poofy locks fell to the floor. That's what I wanted. I thanked him and pulled out my money to pay. He wouldn't take any of it. He said that it was his gift to me and that I was to think of him when I got to Katahdin. Thank you, Jeff. I got all choked up. And here I was, afraid that I would get kicked out.It was getting late, and I knew the bike shop would be closing soon. I called and they sent Tim to fetch me. We drove back through civilization, back to Damascus. I saw that the Mountain Manatee, a vegetarian/vegan restaurant in Damascus, was open. I made a b-line for it as soon as my boots hit the ground. I ate lots of veggies and virtually inhaled a fresh squeezed juice. It was a bit expensive, but my body loved all the freshness. I was able to talk with my parents. It's always so nice to hear their voices. I got back to the Hiker's Inn and Paul brought around some turtle cheesecake squares from a pastry chef in Abingdon. It's been such a lovely, lovely day. I spent hours catching up my journal, and now it's time to sleep.