Date: 2015-04-02
From: Vandeventer Shelter

To: Abingdon Gap Shelter
Miles today: 22.7
Weather: light rain

4/2, 22.7, Abingdon Gap ShelterOK. It was bound to happen sooner or later. I have worked hard to keep this journal G -rated and family friendly but,...well...the time has come. Moms and dads this may not be appropriate for younger children. Consider this your warning. Send the kiddies off to do something. Perhaps sit them down with the three little pigs to read so when you are talking about this diatribe later they will feel a part. Are you ready? Colleen, Joey is probably old enough. Here it goes. Ladies and gentlemen ... Please cut your toenails or they will tell you when they need cut. There. I have crossed the line into impropriety and mentioned personal hygiene. Believe me I have resisted crossing this line before. Unfortunately I learned the above lesson the hard way. After five weeks of blister free podiatric bliss, yes I know I made up a word, my feet have given me pause. I worked very hard, even consulting the greatest podiatrist in the world, Dr. Phillip Cain, (OK he's my cousin) about my feet and after one look he said the words I wanted to hear, "You really don't need those". He was referring to my big toenails which I have abused over my lifetime so badly it was time for them to go. It may have been the single best decision I made in preparation for this trip o have them permanently removed. I tell you his to be sure you understand I did all I could to prevent foot troubles on the trail.I hiked two days ago nearly 25 miles and near the end noticed some 'hot spots' on my piggies that ate roast beef. During my post hike foot inspection, a daily routine, I noticed a small rub spot on the top of each, left and right foot, beef-less piggy. Thinking that was the cause of my discomfort I applied an anti friction balm yesterday before hiking. Near the end of the day the hot spots returned, but I thought, OK, I hiked 18 miles I will have to watch it. Today, I found the actual source of the pain. It seems the piggy who had none was jealous so he grew his nail into the side of the piggy who got roast beef like a shish kabob skewer. So, my only source of foot trouble after nearly 500 miles WAS SELF INFLICTED!! AAAARGH!. The fix was simple which brings me back to the moral of this digression...please cut your toenails before they tell you to do so.I started my hike early this morning, and stopped a few hours in to correct a toenail situation. Other than that it was a remarkable day. Sunny and 70's with a slight breeze and a friendly rolling trail gaining and losing 300 to 500 ft up and down all day as I walked a ridge line. The goal was nearly 23 miles, but hat puts me 11 miles out of Damascus where I will shower, launder and plan the next section. I hiked the first 11 miles by lunch and when I made the road crossing there was trail magic, or, as the church who left it says, trail blessing. I actually arrived while they were restocking so the soda was ice cold, and the snacks were all fresh. They stock it every day during hiker season as a mission of doing for others with their youth group. Their youth actually spend time there and have worship on Wednesday evenings as well. As with all trail blessings it is much appreciated Thank You! It was especially nice when they took a moment to pray for the health and safety of the hikers there. Now that was a blessing!After lunch my hike took me across a newly developed section of the trail that is wheelchair accessible. It is a relatively short section meandering through an open pasture but nicely laid out if someone wanted to be on the AT. I also met many day hikers today, families out to enjoy the good weather. I am not sure why they were not in school, but a hike in the woods can be educational too.My hike ended at Abingdon Gap Shelter, 22.7 miles later. It was 5:45 and looking like rain so I quick set my tent and went to filter water. Happy Baby and I are the only ones here and the black flies or gnats have decided it is time to be known so I decided to tent to stay out of the bugs. With rain in the forecast, and lots of room, Happy Baby suggested I put my tent inside the shelter...bug free and dry. So that's what I did. Until now, the nights sounds have been wind and the occasional owl. No crickets, frogs or mosquitoes. It will be nice to have the outside chorus of summer soon but for now, the overnight temp feels like it is headed for low 40's. That does make for some very comfortable sleeping, but leads to difficulty typing.SilverbackAddendum. Today is my Dad's birthday and I have been planning to write the following story as a tribute to him. "Around the Next Bend"When I was a preteen, eleven or twelve years old it is my belief, in retrospect, that my parents, who always raised me and my siblings as a team, were able to see the wayward tendencies of their classic middle child, me. I know that many of the neighborhood friends I was drawn to 'run' with, were less than positive influences. OK, that is putting it mildly since many of them ran afoul of the law later in life. With this in mind I do not know if it was a conscious decision, or just a happenstance, that I was able to enjoy two significant adventures with my Dad, both of which put me in the midst of some very solid Christian men. One experience included my Grandfather and I on a Canadian fishing adventure with the mens group from one of my parents former churches. Fifteen or twenty smelly men camping, fishing, laughing and telling stories. I learned to clean fish, and keep my Grandpas secrets...but that story will have to wait. This one is about my Dad. The second adventure with my Dad I remember much of like it was just last summer. I grew up in Wisconsin and one of the things you will find in Northern Wisconsin are rivers, beginning their run to the Mississippi as narrow rivulets of water. As more water joins these rivulets become canoe-able rivers complete with rapids, portages, campsites and more. My dad, who to this day could not swim if he had to, took me on a five day adventure down the St. Croix River along with two of the best guys I ever met, Neal and Howard. We canoed and camped, cooked over stoves, fished a little and did all of the things I knew none of my friends back home were able to do. Neal and Howard shareda canoe and I was in the front of the other canoe with my dad to the back. At this point you need to understand, if you are not familiar with wild river canoeing, each person in the canoe has some very specific and important responsibilities. The person in the back is responsible for steering. Using their paddle as a rudder they can steer the canoe by moving the back left or right or by paddling they can influence the direction the canoe will go. The back is a very important place to be. I was in the front. C'mon, I was only twelve. You didn't expect my dad to let me drive and neither did I. As the person in the front my job was to paddle. The front canoeist is the main engine for forward motion. The front person also has some spotting responsibilities when running rapids to help the steering partner know what to avoid that may be presumably unseen but the front canoeist by no means ever should try to steer the front by pushing off rocks, or switch paddling. These practices only make it harder for the rear canoeist and lead to tipping, swamping, bailing and wondering if dinner got wet. Neither canoeist is ever to stand.So off we went canoeing, running rapids, portaging around he big rapids, and floating and fishing the calmer waters. It was a dream adventure with my dad. One of the memories I will carry forever was during calmer waters, we were gently paddling along, when down swooped a Bald Eagle which grabbed a fish from the waters ahead of us and flew away for lunch. Keep in mind this was the early 70's when Eagles were still on the endangered list, but we still had them in Northern Wisconsin. As with all family adventures there comes a moment that seems to define the trip. I remember one time my mom picked up a piece of driftwood off a lakeshore and said, "I am going to sand this down, finish it and make it look real". But, that is also another story. As for the canoeing adventure we were into our last day. I had been powering this craft for five days and now we were into the part of the river where paddling has to happen or the canoe does not move. So I paddled. And paddled. And paddled. Our take out was a highway bridge that stretched over the river so I soon began looking for the bridge. "Where is it dad?" That was when he said it. The words that have come to mean so much to me over the years. Words that came up early in my AT adventure in the form of "over the next rise", that's another story, I know. Dad said, "Around the next bend". I kid you not if we went around one bend we went around thirty. I kept asking and he kept saying "Around the next bend". I must have started asking at lunch time because I heard, "Around the next bend" so many times it began to mean more. Dry socks are, "Around the next bend". Mom's cooking is, "Around the next bend". The bridge is, "Around the next bend". All of life is, "Around the next bend".My guess is he was trying to be encouraging and funny at the same time. My dad has a history of trying to mix those two ingredients. Since then often when I have to wait for something, or to get somewhere I will hear, "Around the next bend". But in tribute to my dad, my life around those bends has always been positive, largely because he set such a great example of what a dad should be. "Around the next bend" never meant wait forever. It always means what is coming is worth the wait. In fact, "Around the next bend" has come to be so meaningful to me that in my final moments as I lay waiting the passage from mortality to eternal life it is my hope that in the natural fear of those final moments I will hear my heavenly father whisper to me, "Around the next bend". Thank You dad for being such a good father That I have a great idea of how my heavenly father sees me. I love you, and happy birthday,Silverback