Date: 2013-05-30
From: Four Pines Hostel, VA 624, Newport Rd

To: Lambert's Meadow Shelter
Miles today: 16.3

I slept well under the stars (or at least without the rainfly). Tom called a little after midnight. We got to talk until he was called away to a meeting. The dew had already started to fall, and the top of my sleeping bag was moist. It was comfortably cool, and I knew my bag would keep me warm.I woke up well rested. From the screen of the tent hung heavy water droplets. They dropped one at a time down onto me and the floor of the tent. The top of my bag was covered in water. I knew I would have to hang it and my tent up to dry before I could pack them away. I hung the them on the fence beside me. The sun was just starting to crest the hill, and the mornings first rays were casting on the fence. I went and gathered the clothes I had handwashed and hung on the grape trellis the night before. The morning's dew had them soaking wet as well. I hung them alongside the sleeping bag and tent. I went inside to make breakfast and gather my gear. It was 8:00 a.m. by the time I had everything loaded and was walking out the front gate. There was a sign that read: Please shut gate due to deaf dog. Joe had a 20+ year old dog that was in great shape other than having no hearing. I walked the .3 dog the road and turned into the woods. The AT took me up and over a little bump and through a couple of pastures. It followed alongside a couple of creeks. They would have been nice to camp next to. I stopped at one low foot bridge and carved "700" into the dirt. I sat down next to the marking and took a picture. I had officially passed the 700 mile mark. A short while later I passed Red Specs, Tie Dye and Sole Sister slack packing in the other direction back to Four Pines Hostel. I wondered if they were as excited about meeting the benchmark. I didn't ask.It was pretty smooth sailing in the morning. I came down into the parking lot for McAfee's Knob at VA 311. It was mostly empty, nothing like the zoo it had been 3 days before when I hiked with Aunt Elaine and Kate. Traffic was still buzzing up and over the pass. I scampered across the road like the frog in Frogger. The trail was pretty quiet. There were a few day hikers but none of the Memorial Day crowds. I stopped at John's Spring Shelter to have a snack and sign the register. A group of three day hikers stopped by and asked if there was a garabage can to throw away their empty water bottle. I told them they'd have to pack it out. I was amazed by how much more challenging the hike was with a fully loaded pack. The up seemed a lot more "up." The heat had kicked in. As I approached the spring near Catawba Mountain shelter, I saw that it had slowed to a trickle. This concerned me. The guide listed it as a reliable water source. I rounded the corner and saw Blitz pumping water at another spring. In the split second that I diverted my attention from the trail to him, I stepped on a small protuding rock. The right ankle twisted, and I fell. Unlike the other times, this time I had an audience, Blitz and two day hikers I'd passed only moments before. Luckily, the twist wasn't bad, but I was all tangled in my poles. I rolled around on the ground and tried to scoot far enough out of the trail to let the day hikers pass. But instinctively I knew they would stop. Who doesn't like to examine a good train wreck? Everyone asked how I was. I was okay, but my left knee was without skin again. I pulled the camp towel off the back of my pack and limped over to the spring. I washed my knee up while the day hikers stood by and asked me all about my hike. I'm not sure if they were really interested or just trying to be politely concerned. I answered their questions and slapped a bandaid on my knee. They left as did Blitz. I sat for a moment and tried to pull my confidence back together. As I stood up and hefted my pack, I heard some loud snorts about 150 ft up the hill. It was a big doe. She snorted a few more times, then flashed her tail and dashed away.The rest of the climb up to McAfee's Knob was done with considerably less enthusiasm. The heat and sweat meltrd the anti-biotic ointment and a thin shiny red streak leaked out from below the bandaid and ran down my shin. I got up to the look out. There was a day hiker couple perched out on the point eating their lunch. Another group of 6 or 7 young guys in distinctively non-hiker clothes were sitting in a circle in the shade. A few other day hikers lulled about. Blitz was in the shade, eating lunch and patiently waiting for the day hikers to move so he could get his quintessential shot. I plopped down in the shade and had lunch. I watched the group of young guys. They had a clear Rubbermade container (the kind used to store cereal) sitting on the rocks. It was full of ashes. One by one, they walked up to the edge and tossed a handfull of ashes of the side. There was no wind, so some of the ashes lingered in the air, but most of them feel straight down. You could hear them filtering through the trees. Finally, after they'd all thrown one handful, one of their group took the whole container to the edge and just dumped it out. I heard it hit the ground about 20 feet below. Thank goodness the wind wasn't blowing. The couple finally moved from the perch, and I took a few pics of Blitz, and he took a few pics of me. After my twisted ankle, I wasn't nearly as bold with poses. Instead I just sat on the edge with my feet dangling off. I talked with another set of day hikers. They were local. The father pointed out Tinker Cliffs way across the way. I knew how many miles it was from here to there, but to actually see the distance made it seem like a long way away. I stopped at Campbell Shelter to fill water. It was so quite, calm and cool, I was tempted to stay. But I didn't. I wanted to see Tinker Cliffs. I followed the ridge as it curved around towards the cliff. There were several giant stone passage ways, stone tunnels made from leaning rocks. Lots of great places to play hide and seek. So many secrets these hills hold. I climbed up a steep hill to get to the start of the cliff. You had to follow the white blazes carefully and they twisted and turned through the rocks. Several other hikers had missed a turned and ended up walking along the base of the cliff rather than on top. They missed one of the best parts of the trail yet! The ridge flattened out into a wide, flat tree and grass covered mesa. A few feet beyond the tree line were the cliffs. I sat my pack down and pulled out my camera. I took a few pictures and then sat down, leaning back on my pack. I wanted to stretch this moment. I was tempted to set my tent up, no doubt the sunset would be spectaular. But instead I decided to just drink the moment. You could see the texture of the land for miles and miles. The far ridges looked like long finger nail scratches across the earth, the ground swelling up from the valley below in parallel lines. A shiny silver vein of a river running along the floor of the valley. Houses, barns, farms, silos and roads looked like impossibly small versions of themselves. I sat there for almost an hour, watching the light shift, the clouds disperse, the birds fly by. I had paid in blood and sweat today, and this is what the it had bought me. The price seemed more than fair. It was getting late, so I decided to make my move. I got up and, loaded the pack and slowly started working my way along the cliffs. I stopped frequently, because there was so much to look at, the vistas, the bonsai shaped pine trees clinging to the cliff's edge, the blooming mountain laurel, a deer grazing a few feet away in the trees, the grey rocks hanging on to one another. Finally the trail climbed down more rocks, past giant rock walls and into bigger thicker woods. Blitz, Raven and Fossil Phoneix were already at the shelter when I arrived. Fossil Phoneix, who had passed me 10 minutes before me on the cliffs, had just seen a bear. The third time in three days that the person either directly before me or directly after me had seen a bear, but I had missed it. Darn!We all tried to cook and eat, the gnats were getting the best of us. I put my dishes away dirty, and couldn't bring myself to try to write in my journal. Any exposed piece of flesh was devoured by the little gnat bastards, and the headlight made it worse. I set up in the shelter because I thought it would let me get out earlier tomorrow, but I wished I had set up my tent to have protection from the bugs. Lesson learned.