Date: 2010-04-02
From: Camped north of Abingdon Gap Shelter

To: Damascus VA
Miles today: 13.4
Weather: clear sky

"Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come. You wait and watch and work: you don't give up."                                       - Anne Lamott The sloping site I had settled for made for a restless night. The slickness of the silnylon, even with the seam sealer painted on the floor, found me heaped in the lowest corner of the tent repeatedly. I would claw my way to higher ground and cram an article of clothing or a boot into a low place, hoping to stabilize my bed. So I spent the night.Determined to beat at least some of the heat of the day, I was out of the tent before 5AM and on the trail before 6. The moon, a few days past full, was high overhead. There was good general light, but not enough to walk with confidence, so I donned my new headlamp and started off. The woods were quiet except for my footsteps crunching the dried leaves.My feet hurt from the blisters, and I was pessimistic about how long it would take me to reach town. The trail was reputed to be easy from here to Damascus, but I felt I was moving soooo slowly. I hoped I would be down by 4. And I pushed on through the dark and the cool of the predawn.An iridescent, greenish light gleamed at me from among the leaves. I could tell it was something reflecting the light of my headlamp, but what was it? A piece of litter, something metal dropped by an earlier hiker? I leaned forward to inspect it. A spider! Later as I walked along I noticed more of these reflections. More spiders. Who knew they were so easy to spot in the dark - with a bright light, anyway?A few birds began to twitter, and soon there was a slight glow in the sky. I still needed a headlamp, but I'd made enough progress, and my feet hurt enough, that I decided I would stop for a break.While it was still dim, but with enough light to see the trail, I found a convenient log for a seat and rested for awhile. I drank a good bit of that water I'd been lugging and ate some snacks. Woodpeckers in different directions began to peck, providing a drum roll for the arrival of the sun. It was a lovely thing to witness.By the time I was ready to move on, I was feeling a little more hopeful, or was it resigned? I didn't think I'd make it in any earlier, but I also felt more relaxed to the idea. Really, what difference would it make if I didn't get in early?I continued to push on as hard as I could, but the feet felt like blocks of wood. Painful ones.I passed a blue-blazed trail, and I checked my map. Must be a mistake on the map. It couldn't be that particular trail yet. It must just be an extension of that trail or it was mismarked on the map. A while later I came to a sign that indicates the Tennessee/Virginia state line. What was this? Only 2.5 miles to go to Damascus! Yes! The feet were demanding a rest, so I stopped, spread out my groundcloth, took off my boots and socks and elevated my legs for about 20 minutes. When I got back up I had more water, and more snacks, including a piece of "Coffee to Go" candy, along with two Vitamin I (Ibuprofen). Some time after I'd started hiking again I found that I felt much better. The feet and knees still hurt, but not nearly as much. But even more importantly, I felt more hopeful than I had since yesterday morning. It's amazing how much of a role mood can play.I wound down and down around the mountain. I could see the rooftops of houses below me. With each switchback I dropped closer to them. Soon I was walking along at a level of just a few stories above the roofs.   A final stretch of trail dumped me out on a town street. A couple of blocks later I walked through the wooden archway that greets hikers on their arrival in Damascus.Within minutes I had checked in at Mount Rogers Outfitters, received a key and a towel and was headed for a much-anticipated shower. Since the day was so warm and I only have one pair of shorts with me, I rinsed out my clothes with me in the shower and put them back on damp. A few minutes on the porch left them clean enough and dry enough that I felt I could go to a restaurant without causing comments.Quincy's provided a nice house salad and a hamburger. My feet had been freed from the confines of the Keens and were happily lounging in the Crocs. Things were definitely looking up. A trip to the Post Office yielded a mail drop from my husband. It included the map for the next section of trail. But what was this? A bag of biscotti! Ah, how that man knows me. Mmmmm.   I devoured some of them on the spot.The rest of the day disappeared with settling in, talking with other hikers, and more eating with other hikers. It was good to be in town.