Date: 2004-06-03
To: Wild Ponies 
Miles today: 17.3

Last night after the thunder storm had passed, I woke up and entered the pine grove to take a leak. The sky was bright, the moon was clear, and a thick mist was permeating the grove. A beam of moonlight was projecting through some branches, and through the mist, to the ground. It was a dramatic site. On the way back to the shelter, a person approached in the dark. I could not recognize the person. He identified himself as Swedish. He had been caught on the trail by the thunderstorm and had sat it out. He was soaked. I helped him get squared away. He had left Damascus late in the day because of the departure of his girlfriend, Shannon, to a job in Maine. I will miss hiking with her.Back on the trail, I hiked for about 3/4 hour and ran into Inchworm who was slack packing southbound. It is uncanny the way she keeps appearing and disappearing for days straight. I have known her since back in Georgia. I conveyed to her greetings from her husband back in Colorado. He had sent to me an email asking that I pass along the greeting. I had read the email back in the Damascus Public Library.This slack packing scene is confusing me. People I know are frequently seen hiking south, even though they are journeying north to Maine. Today it was Inchworm on a south bound slack. Yesterday it was Zip Off, Kato, and Samurai. Other hikers who slack pack are Knuckles, JP, Stick, Bluebird, Silkie, Whoa and Moxie. It is hard to determine where they are located in their northbound progress on the trail. Here is a crazy notion: I would imagine that it is theoretically possible for a hiker to travel from Georgia to Maine and never actually hike north. But that would defeat one of the goals of slack packing, which is to hike in a direction where the elevation descends over the course of a day. There are many days in which the easiest direction to hike is north. My right heal was feeling sore today. I could not explain why this is happening. Is it the worn out shoes? Is it from too much pounding on the downhills? I decided to take things easier on the descents.Sometimes during a steep ascent, I stop and catch my breath. There are times when I can hear my heart thumping from the exertion. Today, while ascending Mount Rogers, the highest mountain in Virginia, I stopped to rest. When this happened, the thumping sounded too rapid. I wondered what was happening. Then I realized that it was not my heart that was thumping. The sound was actually a mating call from a nearby ruffled grouse.As I ascended the wooded slope of Mount Rogers, I noticed a gorgeous pasture off to the side. Rocks, boulders, and weather beaten trees were included in this mix. A stream was bubbling in front me. I was so attracted to this area that I temporarily left the Appalachian Trail and hiked across the pasture to some boulders along a ridge line. Little did I know that what I was enjoying was a precursor to a stretch of even greater beauty which lay ahead.At around 6:00 p.m., near the summit of Mount Rogers, I entered a region of the trail that was spectacular. It was the high country of the Lewis Fork Wilderness and the bordering Grayson Highlands. Here, at approximately 5,000 feet, were rolling pastures, dramatic rock formations, belts of trees, rhododendron shrubs in bloom, and small herds of wild ponies.At a shelter in the beginning of this stretch, a hiker told me that a system of rainy weather, including thunderstorms, was moving into the area and would arrive in a few hours. I made a snap decision to push on to the next shelter and enjoy, albeit briefly, the grandeur of the area. Hopefully, the thunder storms would not catch me in the open at this high elevation.I hiked quickly at first, leery about the dark sky and rumblings of thunder to the south. My photos were taken quickly, with little time for compositional planning. Then I saw I herd of wild ponies on a ridge about 1/4 mile from the side of the Appalachian Trail. I decided to take a chance with the weather and wandered off the trail toward the ponies. I reached the herd and took some photos of mother ponies with their colts, some of the young animals only a few days old. The adults did not seem afraid of me, but the colts kept their distance. Some of the adults were shedding their winter coats, sporting thick manes next to parts of their bodies that were somewhat bare of hair. It was a wonderful scene to witness.I reached the next shelter (called 'Wise Shelter') before the thunder storms moved in. There was nobody occupying it, so I strung up my hammock inside. In the waning light, I read some of the entries in the shelter register. Lots of them were the usual comments about the beauty of the trail and stuff like that. Yawn! Then one entry caught my eye. It read:"I reserve the deepest inner most circle of hell for those who snore yet insist on using a shelter. I hope these people choke on whatever soft palate is causing their problem." The rain looks like it will soon commence. I hear mice moving about, but I will be immune from their harassments inside of my hammock. But then again, the mice have a habit of chewing on things. What if they chew up one of the two ropes supporting my hammock? I doubt it, but will keep alert for any gnawing sounds near either end of the hammock. I hope the rain lets off tomorrow.