Date: 2013-07-03
From: Bobblets Gap Shelter

To: Jennings Creek Road
Miles today: 9.7
Weather: moderate rain

Wednesday, July 3rdBobblet's Gap Shelter @ 742.0 toJennings Creek Road @ 751.79.7 milesIt rained. It absolutely poured all night. The creek turned to a raging river. The landscape looked tired from the onslaught, drenched from the downpour from the sky. It was crazy... After taking a zero because Thistle's tent was so wet and muddy it couldn't be salvaged enough to sleep in the next night, we were so sick of the rain and mosquitos, we couldn't endure another day or night, without getting out of the hole known as Bobblet's Gap Shelter. During the night a hiker entered our soaked camp. We were all sleeping deeply in the shelter, though it was only about 11:30 PM. Thistle, Tangy, Raven and I were comfortable when someone came in from the rainy trail to seek solace in the shelter. I felt a little guilty that the wet hiker didn't feel comfortable inviting his/her self in under the shelter roof when we really had plenty of room. Part of me wanted to shout out to let them know, but on the other hand I didn't want to wake all the way to get up and make room. Once I heard the familiar clinging of tent stakes I figure the lone wet hiker had decided, and I didn't have to move over. I must have fallen back asleep because I woke up again a little after 5:00AM and had to find a tree. I raised up and found my new Chaco sandals, nominated as my outside shoes so as not to bring mud into the shelter, and my raincoat hanging on a post nail. Once I was dressed for the steady deluge I made my way under the roof to the end of the shelter as far as I could go before joining the flood.   I really didn't want to go out there, as I was only physically prepared. I found my tree in the darkness, knowing all eyes were racing with REMs, asleep and dreaming. I let go with instant relief and there would be no witnesses, no trace that I had relieved myself just outside the same cabin my friends slept. I didn't get too wet, no one knew and all was good. The stream of water from the rain quickly washed all evidence away. I took off my unused rain clothes and laid back down to my slumbering floor camp. When I awoke I saw a familiar face at the picnic table reading a book.   His large red beard and shoulder length red hair identified him immediately. It was Ducky. Recall he left to go home, and we didn't know if he would return, but here he was, the lone hiker in the night was one of us.I tapped Thistle who was sleeping in her bag beside me in the middle of the shelter to avoid any contact with mice or the four foot snake pursuing them. Mice generally follow the walls until they get to their destination, which is usually a bag of food. For that reason, if we don't hang a bear bag outside we hang our food bags on a string with a tuna can above so they can't climb down a continuous line. Raven was already up and dressed, but Tangy was still asleep. We got up quietly but he heard us and woke up to greet the day. We greeted Ducky to welcome him to our camp that we'd overstayed. I was unaware that Thistle and Ducky had been discussing his arrival, but when I asked her she said she didn't discuss that. Surprise! Apparently Ducky had planned himself to be our ride for the next few days of slack packing. We discussed the plan for the day, which included slack packing, or hiking while carrying only water and lunch, to our next destination. Tangy was in the conversation so we invited him along and he accepted, stating he'd never slack packed before. This would be my second opportunity, the first being coming down from Clingman's Dome in the Smokies.Ducky, Thistle, Tangy and I took off toward Ducky's car where we could begin our lightweight hike. When we got to the car one mile later, we stripped our backpacks of all unnecessary weight. With a heavy threat of rain i decided to leave my camera, a decision that would come back to bite me later.The rain was coming down, but it didn't seem so bad under the protection of the leafy trees. When the rain finally ran out if steam, the trail came alive. It was one of the most beautiful and interesting hikes of the trail so far. The trail started a bit rocky, but evolved into a manicured trail, padded with pine straw for easy footing. Hiking can be described by the value received vs the effort given. This was a hike with great visual value yet with little effort expended, a high value hike. We saw waterways rushing to deliver their clean water downhill as fast as it could flow. The trails were clear of debris which was washed downward. The hike was pretty and interesting, and as long as the rain was at bay it was fun. We have an old saying that "hiking sucks, camping is fun." This is true on so many levels, but today was an exception. We traveled down the near perfect trail and came upon a grove of trees that were dead and dying. It was a beautiful scene, but sad all the same. The dying trees covered the whole side of the mountain. I reached for my camera and then remembered I didn't bring it. Figures. I used my old iPhone, but the pictures were dark and unimaginative. I wouldn't let this damper my enthusiasm, but it was disappointing nonetheless.I saw large pallets of like plants, separating themselves from other species. I saw mushrooms blooming bright colors in their temporary dance of existence. The scenery was soothing to the eyes, and spectacular. As we approached our intended destination, we heard another familiar voice and two male hikers coming our way. It was Indy and his good friend Derrick from Indiana. Indy had left for home two weeks ago. He was back. As soon as we were down to two people, our group more than doubled from two to five in a single day. We continued our hike and the rain continued as well. It was a pretty steady rain, but the trees offered us protection. Still, we were pretty wet by that evening. After 9.7 miles we were done. Once again I was having foot problems. I turned my sore ankle again, slipping on a rock, and it was really hurting, especially now that I knew there was an end in sight.   Also, the wet straps on my new sandals cut deep into the sides of my two big toes. I put duct tape around them, which I addressed during the hike, but now the sticky tape was getting truly uncomfortable. I could finally put my flip flops on and be comfortable again. It seems that every pair of shoes I have does something different to add to the destruction of my feet. If I rotate them I can at least let each blister or rub spot or callus, rest, but I can't carry a shoe store with me. I hope I can resolve this soon.We met back at the car and got some food at a restaurant with no other customers, which is usually not a good sign. There were signs posted on the entrance door that the restrooms were for paying customers only. A couple of ladies came in and asked kindly if they could order something to go and use the restrooms. Then all hell broke out. The waitress started yelling at them that they had to sit and eat to use the restroom. Then they started yelling at one another. It wasn't the way adults should act. She removed her scowl and smiled at us, asking from across the room if we needed anything. It was all very strange. We went to the public library where we could have access to free wifi in order to look at maps on Ducky's laptop. We wanted to figure out where to hike the next few days, using the car to slack pack, and still get Derrick back to his car by Saturday. Once it was all planned out, we drove to search for a camp site for the night. When we arrived it was pouring rain again. The river was swollen almost to its crest. There were flood warnings on the radio. It was a mess. We took a look and instantly we all agreed to split a hotel room in Daleville, the same town we went through just the other day.That night the area was flooded with heavy rain. None of us wanted to be in it, so we made the right decision. All of my gear was already wet, so maybe some of it could dry in the hotel room. We will go again tomorrow, but the forecast is the same. Rain, rain and more rain.