Date: 2018-08-28
From: Appalachian Dreamer Hiker Hostel (VA 610)

To: Garden Mountain hostel (VA 623)
Miles today: 20.2
Weather: few clouds

Up early at the Appalachian Dreamer hostel for a big pancake breakfast. Mack's been a fantastic host. There are a couple of other hostels in the immediate area (one of which is only open during Nobo season) but it's hard to imagine them being more hospitable.Heading out the door I notice my inner soles lying under the bunk where I'd left them to dry. I had put on my shoes without them! Guess I would have felt that at the first rock or root. Mack drives me back to the trail on VA 610. The trail winds up a hill through cow pastures but has recently been rerouted and is very difficult to follow. Dewy grass soaks my shoes. Eventually I return to the forest and follow the trail over Brushy and Lynn Camp Mountains. The sky is clear but gradually clouds and remains cool. At a gravel road I meet Huck, a northbounder hiking all of Virginia. He's a young programmer from Charlottesville but his knees are hurting so he's only going to the next shelter. That shelter is on top of Chestnut Ridge, a 4.5 mile long and 2100 foot vertical climb. After some huffing and puffing up the steepest part, I follow the flattening trail as it opens into a wide mowed strip between trees and then through broad meadows with views across the valleys south. I can no longer see the Great Valley with I-81 and Atkins as it's blocked by the Walker Mountain ridge I climbed yesterday. At the summit is a stone, fully-closed shelter with bunks. A southbound section hiker about my age is taking a break. He's doing the mirror of my hike, Daleville to Damascus, and is coming from the hostel I intend to stay at tonight. He demurs when I ask about it except to warn me I need to arrange in advance if I want an early ride back to the trail.On the way down Chestnut Knob I meet two more sobo section hikers. After barely seeing a soul for two days I'm overwhelmed by three in a half hour! The first is Mr. Hiker who's also working on Virginia. The other is at the bottom of the hill looking for water. There are no streams or springs running for many miles, just a pond up on the ridge that looked less than appealing. He's going to see if the hostel will run him up a gallon of water. It reminds me to always check my sources before I start my day.I wend my way over a bumpy ridgeline for another five miles and can feel my energy draining. The sun is out again and the temperature has climbed, intensifying the humidity that has been high all day. Plus I've eaten all my snacks and skipped lunch since it's a relatively short day and the hostel provides dinner. So I'm sweaty, tired and hungry when I reach the gravel road and call the hostel for pickup. I get a message saying they're out til 5. It's 4:53 and I'm antsy. Their roadside sign says to walk downhill 1.5 miles to a gate and a white house if there's no answer. Okay, I leave a message to come meet me as I'm walking down and start off. One car passes as I descend Burke's Garden Road, a steep one-lane gravel road with switchbacks and a sharp drop-off, but it's not them. After half an hour the trees break and I see the valley. I reach a gate. But it's a livestock gate. I look out over the valley. Sure enough, there's a white house way down there across multiple pastures. A wooden sign fallen on the ground indicates the hostel is 800 yards off.So I wrestle with the gate and start hiking another half mile over rough fields mined with cow patties. The phone rings and it's Mark from the hostel. He apologizes for being away and helps me navigate through the maze of fencing and herd of cattle to the house. Mark is fifty-something with an English accent and hands me a soda when I ask for something cold. The farm house is a beaut from another age with high ceilings and solid wood doors, but is a little rough around the edges, disorganized, and dirty. A huge German Shepherd puppy and some cats wander around looking for affection and crickets to chase. After a shower and starting the laundry I chat up Mark and his pal Farmer, a lean, prematurely-graying AT enthusiast who helps out on the farm when he's not working in Roanoke. They seem like pleasant guys. They've run the hostel for a couple years. A lot of hikers came through last year but it's off by half this year. They think people were driven off trail by the late wintry and wet weather. That's possible. But I can see now why the southbounder was hesitant to endorse the place. After dropping some hints about eating (I don't mind walking two miles off trail for food! Hey, can I help with dinner?), there is no indication anyone intends to cook. The TV blares loudly as Mark watches Youtube news clips and tells me earnestly about military conspiracies. The bunks have such thin padding it's like lying directly on the slats, so I end up sleeping on the wooden floor. Finally near 8pm I ask directly about dinner. Mark looks through the fridge and offers up ribs or pork chops. Whatever is good, I say. Ribs it is! Oh, but they're frozen. Then I'm good with anything, I say (can we please eat soon?) So Mark disappears while Farmer and I chat on the porch overlooking the cow pastures and he explains the grazing business model, the health of one of their pigs, and all the mowing necessary. Mark returns to say since the ribs are thawing it will be three hours til dinner. Oh, wait, I say, that's a long time, let's do those pork chops. The ribs are already prepped though, so we wait. It's awkward. I'm a guest lucky to be here, so I grit my teeth and think how I'd be fed and going to sleep in the shelter by now. I try to nap. We end up eating literally at midnight with Mark hauling a heaping plate of ribs into the bunkroom. It has no place to eat, so I have to ask if I can take it to the dining room. He and Farmer eat in front of the TV. I'm more tired than hungry and the ribs need a few more hours to be tender so I don't eat a ton. I would have been happy with grilled cheese! Before hitting the sack I arrange a 7:30 departure with Farmer. We'll see what happens!