Date: 2013-04-28
From: Roan High Knob Shelter

To: Overmountain Shelter
Miles today: 7.1
Weather: light rain

I slept poorly last night. The floor was quite slanted at weird angles, and we all moved and shifted throughout the night. I awoke about a foot from where I started. The rain and wind and spruce bits sounded off the tin roof. It was relaxing, but it was cold. Orion's thermometer clocked in at 36 F. Again, thank you, Elaine and Steve, for my warm sleeping bag. Not once have I wished I had the old one. Initially I had planned to stay put for the day. There was no way I wanted out in the cold wetness. My shelter-mates started packing up, and I was feeling giddy like a kid playing hooky. One by one, they filed out into the rain. Orion and Davy Crockett were the last two to leave. The wind and rain had picked up, and clouds of mist were blowing through the front door of the cabin. I sat on the floor in the corner, across the room from the door. I did't want to go out there.   My fingers and toes were numb. I watched a little bird hop into the door way. I sat really still, hoping it would come closer. It hopped back out. I stared at the rhododendrons, bowing and shaking in the wind. The spruce tree behind if followed suit, as if they were nodding in earnest agreement with each other. I really, really didn't want to go out. I pulled out my book. I looked back out of the door. The idea of getting at least a few miles in was hard to shake. I sighed. I let the air out of my air mattress and packed the rest of my stuff. I waited for a break in the rain, and I left. It was soggy out. There was water running down the center of the trail. It looked more like a really rocky french drainage system than a hiking path. The trees were thick and dark and offered some protection from the weather. The limbs hung heavy with rain drops. I looked hard at every foot placement. If I got hurt today, there would be few people out to offer help. I hadn't really looked at the directions, so I had no idea what to expect from the terrain.My rain gear worked well for the first hour or so, but then my gloves were the first to start leaking. My right boot was the next to go. The wind and rain seemed to really pick up as I was leaving the wooded area. I stopped in a wooded area just before Carvers Gap, and I watched as sheets of rain and fog blew at a 45 degree angle across the grassy bald. Damn it. I pulled out my Snickers Bar (I just hope to make it through this trek without developing diabetes or a peanut allergy) and ate it. The irony of the situation was not lost on me. Not three weeks before I had sat in the blazing sun for 9 hours at a shelter waiting for a bad storm to hit. Now here I was, having left a perfectly dry shelter to come out in the rain. Ugh.I climbed up and over a series of grassy, unprotected balds. The wind was strong and in my face, so I turned my right shoulder towards the wind and walked up the hill sideways to try to the keep the wind more towards my back. That put the rain to my right side. The rain penetrated the right zipper of my rain pants, and I felt it starting to run cold down and around my right leg. I knew I would definitely have to keep moving so as not to get hypothermia. I cursed my way up Round Bald. When I reached Jane's Bald, mentally I was in a rage. I was angry at the guys for talking me into hiking today (in their defense, they did nothing of the sort). I cursed Marmot for my leaking pants. I cursed Montrail for my leaking boot. I cursed Mountain Laurel and Jack Wolfskin for their "rain proof" gloves. When I saw a little wooden sign saying "Jane's Bald" I lost it. I kicked at the puddles, stomped around and called Jane all kinds of terrible names. I even tried to give Jane "the finger" but my hands were in mittens, so it didn't really work, and that made me all the madder. I can only imagine what I must of looked like to the objective spectator- a soaking wet 35 year old throwing one hell of a temper tantrum in a downpour. Classic.There were no views. Only wet grass and a long silvery pewter colored line going up the next hill. That was where I was to go. Coming through the mist, I passed a couple of day hikers coming in the opposite direction. They were way too perky for my current state of mind. They tried to say something chirpy to me, and I just growled back at them. Mentally, this was the longest stretch of trail yet. It just went on and on. I passed one shelter, and it was completely water logged. Water was pooled at the back of it. I continued on. The clouds cleared just enough to see the balds from a distance. I flipped them the bird again and uttered some obscenities (Jane and Roan Mountain, please accept my apologies). Finally, I got to the turn off for Overmountain Shelter. I turned down the side trail, and soon the bright red barn came into view. Orion, Davy Crockett and Little SAS were already there. They were wetter than I was. I discovered that though my pack cover kept water from the surface of the pack, the bottom had collected about a pint of water. Luckily, I was using a contractor garbage bag as a bag liner, so everything inside was dry. The others weren't so lucky. I unpacked everything and hung it around the barn walls in hopes that it might dry. I put on my dry clothes, and felt incredibly grateful to have a dry place to sleep tonight.I had a late lunch/early dinner and a big cup of tea with lots of honey. I got a text from Dreamer, and she and her husband are going to pick me up tomorrow at US 19. Yeah! About 7 or 8 more hikers showed up throughout the evening. One was a young German. He camped out next to me. I asked him how things were going so far. He started criticizing US cities for their lack of public transport and lack bike lanes. I felt the venom rising again in my veins, and a dozen smart-ass comments popped in my head. Instead, I took a deep breath, said something curt with tight smile, and ignored him for the rest of the evening. I never even bothered to ask his name. When he crawled into his sleeping bag and pulled the closure tight, his head looked like a little dog anus. I smiled to myself and tried to sleep.