Date: 2007-06-07
From: Overmountain Shelter

To: Mountaineer Shelter
Miles today: 17.4
Weather: broken clouds

The morning is beautiful, with a slight chill in the air. Just as last night, in the valley from the open side of the shelter, where the two sleeping platforms are, a herd of deer are visible. Such beautiful animals to be witnessed on such a beautiful morning.The Trail climbs, relatively steeply, atop Little Hump Mountain, the first "peak" of the day (it's hard to speak of a peak when speaking of a round-topped bald... summit is the best word, I suppose) This is a continuation of the Roan Highlands, as a plaque atop one of the sections (I don't know if it was on Little Bald, Bradley Gap, or [Big] Hump Mountain), alerting me to this. The views in this area are ridiculously phenomenal, better than yesterday, in fact, as the visibility is better.After descending Little Hump to Bradley Gap, the climb atop the massive Hump Mountain begins. I can see the Trail, snaking its way atop the grassy mound. This is slightly psychologically painful, but I don't have time to sit around and bitch about it, as there are hardly any trees in this area, mainly wide open grass! If I sit around and rest during this long, steep climb, I will get sunburned. If I keep moving, I will be just lightly toasted. Somewhere along the climb (maybe this was on Little Hump?), I pass through some stiles. I know this means that there is large animal life the forest rangers want to remain in here. Is it the long-horn cattle, which I could see from Overmountain Shelter last night? I remember the DVD "Appalachian Impressions" stating that there are long-horned cattle somewhere along the Trail, and wild ponies in the Grayson Highlands of Virginia... My mind draws a blank, I push on. Again, the views are phenomenal, from the sweeping vistas, up to 100-miles I reason, with how clear the day is, to the massive boulders strewn around the mountain.During the climb, the wind and the tall grass decide to dance together, in a wonderfully choreographed number. A cumulonimbus cloud passes overhead, providing me with some shade, so I take the opportunity to park myself on one of the boulders, enjoying, soaking in the wind and the grass, as they continue their waltz.A few moments later, I set back to the Trail. Along the way, I pass by two southbound section hikers. Like many before them, and surely many to follow, they ask if I am related to the great John Muir. If I continue my hiking, I'd better do some research to find out, so I can more amply answer this question! The Trail descends Hump Mountain, and follows the saddle before rising another bump on the mountain. Looking behind me, I can see the massive mound I have just crossed, with the high winds still a blowing, another large cloud resting above it, blanketing the mountain in shade.Immediately after passing the "bump", the Trail passes into a beautiful forest, and turns into a nasty mess of rocks. Rocks like this take so much time and care to safely maneuver around, that my mileage slows down such where I'm unable to gauge it. Thus, I have no idea how long this rocky stretch lasted, exactly. All I know is that it ended sometime before Apple House Shelter. Despite the treacherous rocks, contributing to my aching feet, knees... well, my legs, I am able to enjoy the natural beauty. To think that these rocks were likely the size of a house in ancient times, before weather, time, erosion dwindled them down to the sizes they are today; and, they still possess incredible beauty in their menagerie of sizes and shapes, much like snowflakes. The trees provide much welcome shade, and also provide views of the nearby mountains and valleys; and, the trees---whatever species they were, I don't know!---themselves are gorgeous! They are kind of gangly, as if the wind and winters have twisted them to the shapes and angles which they are in.Apple House Shelter is close to US19E, which is the only place I have read is noted for vandalism. This is only 8.2-miles from my starting point, so it's not even crossing my mind to stay here; but, even if it was 15 or more miles from my starting point, I wouldn't consider staying here alone! Inside the dusty shelter, there are several menus from restaurants near the highway... which is pure torture! One in particular---the name escapes, and I left the brochure in the shelter to torture the next batch of ever hungry hikers---stands out to me. It's a matter of trying to hitchhike at the highway crossing, just half-a-mile north of here. I'd met two other hikers just south of the shelter, and while I'm sitting at the shelter, pondering my situation, they show up and pass me by, smiling and waving. I also have to go to the bathroom, but the trailblazing necessary to find a tactful place to go "number 2" dissuades me from pursuing that endeavor at this location.So, I press on for the highway. Along the way, I pass by a beautiful young lady, out hiking. Turns out she's a section hiker, who started last year, if I recall. 'Tis a pity her name escapes me, but maybe she'll remember mine and post it on my guestbook! Just before reaching it, I cross a stream where I gather a liter of water. Across the footbridge, and up the rise I find the cause of the prevalent noise, infringing on the noise of the beautifully babbling brook: the highway. The couple I encountered here earlier is here, awaiting their ride. As it turns out, their ride is Uncle Johnny! I think of asking him for a ride to the restaurant when he arrives, but I don't want to take advantage of his generosity. When he arrives, he calls me by name! I tell him that I'm pondering walking to that restaurant, so he offers a ride. I ask, "What's the likelihood I'll be able to get a ride back to here?" He says, "Very slim, especially with this highway." So, I kindly turn down his offer, but cook my dinner here, deciding to snacking the rest of the way to my destination: Mountaineer Shelter. While I'm cooking and eating, Grace and her dad Buffet (Alex) pass by, along with Matt, and John and Sara and their cute dog blue, all heading to the bed-and-breakfast right down the highway. The two other guys from last nights shelter come up, deciding to press on. I encourage them to press on to Mountaineer Shelter, saying that the hike can't be too bad as the elevations can't be too bad, according to what I infer from looking through Wingfoot. I cross the highway, and right back into the forest. On a tree is a sign warning hikers from leaving their cars parked on the highway, as the vandalism has been consistently notorious. It reminds me of a bumper sticker I saw in Hot Springs, "My other car is a pair of boots." Surprisingly, the climb out of the highway here is ridiculously steep, and the Trail is slanted, making the possibility for a twisted/strained/sprained ankle all the more high! Maybe it was difficult due to my recent consumption of food? All I know is that I have to press on. After this tough section, the Trail becomes an old logging road. This doesn't make for great aesthetics, but I remember Earl Shaffer's historic thru-hike in 1948, how so much of it was walking like this, according to what I've heard. I catch up with the two gentlemen, and we come upon two kids on their dirt bikes. I remember that it's illegal to have motor vehicles on the Appalachian Trail, but since this leg of it is an old logging road, I'm not bothered enough to say anything. Maybe I'm a bad conservationist, but so long as their not on the "actual" Trail, I figure they're fine.The Trail begins another steep climb, again following the logging road. I look ahead, wondering how many more steep climbs like this I must endure today to get to the shelter, when all of a sudden, I notice that the Trail takes a sharp, 45o turn to the right, bearing straight into the forest. Oh, what relief from the drudgery of this climb! Also, the forest provides more shade from the burning sun. Before entering the forest, I shout down to the two other guys, who are going a slower pace than me, making sure they don't pass by the abrupt turn into the forest.The Trail wraps around a mountain, and begins a descent. I encounter a father and son, and we talk for a few moments. They are a good Christian family, and promise to pray for me, which I greatly appreciate. Ahead, I pass by a cemetery, skirting around it. I've passed by so many random grave-sites on and along the Trail, that passing by this one, fenced in, is kind of odd. I then pass a road, Buck Mountain Road? As I begin descending, right across the road, I hear clanging, banging. It is a woman, who is obviously having a hard time hiking. The banging was a pot she has hanging from the outside of the pack! She tells that, back on the road I have just crossed, at the Baptist Church there, you can fill up your water sources at a faucet on the side of it. I eagerly climb back up to the road, and do just that!Back on the Trail, I soon catch up with this lady, who kindly lets me pass her by. I say a prayer for her, as she is obviously having a tough time. "I'm sooo out of shape", she tells me. The Trail soon becomes one of the easiest sections I have hiked so far, with very slight ups-and-downs. The forest here is obviously younger here, but quite beautiful; rhododendrons abound. I pass by a sign for Jones Falls, saying it is 100 feet off the Trail. It turns out to be MUCH closer to .1-miles off Trail, which is the distance given in Wingfoot. By this time, I simply laugh at the off-mileages listed here and there. The waterfall is beautiful, even if it is obviously low, due to a lack of rain.Back on the Trail, I parallel a river (the Elk River?). Rivers usually mean there is a steep, killer climb nearby, but such is not the case today. The Trail remains being one of the easiest sections hiked thus far. I pass by a group of middle-aged ladies, out for a section hike. All of them are attractive, and in good shape. They have obviously been hiking for a good while! I assure them the shelter can't be much further, and encourage them to push on and to join me there for the night. They ask me about Jones Falls; they apparently missed the sign for it! So, I tell them, "If you meet met at the shelter, I'll show you my pictures of it!"I press on, and after passing the almost dried out Mountaineer Falls and a short climb, I come to the shelter. This shelter is obviously new---the new one I'd read about at many stops before here, at different shelters and hostels---and quite nice! It is two-stories, along with a loft! Someone has even taken the time to carve a bear out of log! My need to go to the bathroom, which I'd first felt back at Apple Mountain Shelter, some 9.2-miles south of here, is still with me. I figure the ladies will be a little bit more, so I trailblaze up the slow side, toting the shovel left at the shelter with me. I find a nice secluded spot, and get to work. I use up the small remainder of my toilet paper, and resort to leaves. Unfortunately, I decide to try a rhododendron leaf first. I emphatically DO NOT recommend that (I even left a note in the register regarding this). It took a little more work, but I managed to find some other leaves to "finish things off". By the time I am finished, I can hear the ladies approaching. I show one of them my pictures of the waterfall. They decide to hike a little further on, stating that they might as well use their tents since they've carried them all this way.The night is young, and I decide to retire early. Tomorrow I will shoot for 25.8-miles, so I might as well get to bed early so I can get an early start in the morning, as it's going to be long, and likely hard. Also, a business card for Abby's Place is left in the shelter, so I grab it, deciding to stop there along the way for a small resupply. I know the legendary Kinkora Hostel is at Dennis Cove Road, a little over 15-miles north of here, but I really need to do more miles than that. Thus, I reason I can stop at Abby's Place, and get enough supplies to carry me on to Damascus, Virginia! Oh, the prospect of a new state must put a huge smile on my face!