Date: 2007-06-12
From: Double Springs Shelter

To: Damascus, VA
Miles today: 18.3
Weather: few clouds

I wake up this morning, to a nice brisk breeze. The air is crisp, and I feel invigorated simply be inhaling. My leg still hurts, but I must hike on. There simply isn't any other option. It doesn't hurt quite like it did when I limped into camp last night, obviously, as I've rested; but, I can feel the pain before I even get out of my sleeping bag.I wake up before any of the kids, so I quietly go behind the shelter and up some, behind a tree, and discreetly change into my pants (I changed into shorts to sleep in last night, as I didn't think it'd be proper to sleep in my underwear with 3 high schoolers sharing the shelter with me) and go to the bathroom. I then collect some water for cooking, and do just that, preparing some oatmeal with peanut butter. By this time, many of the kids are up now, and I think I remember one, who slept under the stars on a tarp, complaining about having dew on him!Deep Swyg comes down by the shelter, using the surface of the picnic table to prepare his morning feast. I always enjoy meeting people on the Trail, especially others who are thru-hiking, section-hiking, or flip-flopping. There's a communal bond of sorts, as, in one way or another, we're all doing the same thing, we all share the same joys and sorrows, trials and tribulations. He tells me he has a ukulele, and was inspired to buy it by another thru-hiker, whose Trail Name IS Ukulele! Swyg says he's maybe a day ahead of us, and that we should catch up with him today, if we press on to Damascus! I tell him that was already my planned destination, and he's obviously pleased with that. He plans to stay at Mount Rogers Outfitters Hostel (Dave's Place, I think it's called), whereas I plan to stay at The Place, since it's cheaper.I get a head start on everyone this morning, and again am touched by the high school group, as they're all wishing me off as I leave, and hoping that my leg mends itself so I can hike with more ease. These youths have truly given me hope in the future!Just .1-miles North, the Holston Mountain Trail intersects, which is a pre-1954 route for the Appalachian Trail. When the Trail was first built, much of it was old logging roads, as the Holston Mountain Trail appears to have been. Earl Shaffer, the first thru-hiker on the Appalachian Trail, did a Southbound thru-hike in the 1960s, and another northbound thru-hike in 1998 (it actually ended up being a minor flip-flop, as Shaffer fell down in the 100-mile wilderness in Maine, cracking at least one rib; so, he flipped up to Katahdin and hiked south to where he left off, just in case they closed Katahdin for the winter, although this hasn't been publicized, to my knowledge) complained to Bob Peoples in '98, saying, "When did the Appalachian Trail become a ridgewalk?" In the early days, with the number of logging roads the Trail used, one would hike through more towns and by more houses, thus showing you more of the Appalachia culture and trail towns. When the Trail got international recognition, and government support (becoming a National Scenic Trail, part of the National Park Service, likely the first), "private" land was acquired. When the Appalachian Trail Conservancy went to farmers along the corridor to purchase land, they naturally sold their farmland which was mainly unusable for growing crops, namely the ridges. Hence, the Appalachian Trail became more of a ridgewalk.Back to my hike: just before coming to Low Gap, US421, the Trail follows an old logging road. I stop here to get a liter of water, and to say my prayers. I was going to chant them, but Deep Swyg shows up, and I decide to silently pray them, as I don't want to "force" my prayers on anyone. I press on before Deep Swyg, who's taking a break at the concrete picnic table and using an electronic device of sorts to get a hold of some friends, if I remember right.Right back in the forest, across the highway, the Trail heads up, and my shin starts hurting pretty badly again. It has been hurting ever since I woke up, to be sure, but it didn't hurt any worse then your knees after several steep descents or your feet after several miles of rugged hiking. Now, it hurt like absolute hell. I pressed on, limping, trying to figure out a way I can walk with the least amount of pain. As I'm trying to figure this out, I hear a noise in the forest to my right, a large animal barreling through the forest, away from me and down from the ridge. I figure it's a large bear running away from me, and I press on. Not even two or three steps more, and I hear scrambling on a tree just 10 or so feet off of the Trail. I look, and see two absolutely adorable black bear cubs scampering down a tree, and running in the same direction as the loud noise just mentioned. Bears are beautiful animals, but these babies---not much bigger than a medium-sized dog---were as cute as any stereotype paints them to be! Maybe 5-minutes further, a large deer is spotted in the middle of the Trail. As soon as it sees me, it gracefully prances away to the right. I feel bad for Deep Swyg, as earlier today he told me he has yet to see a bear! I have just seen my 5th and 6th black bears!From Low Gap to Abingdon Gap Shelter, there is an almost 5-mile hike. So, I am shocked when I come upon a small shelter, just on the right of the Trail. This is the the most primitive, most tiny, most uninviting looking shelter I have seen yet, and I am nearing 500-miles on the Trail! I set my backpack in the shelter, and go behind it and down the slope side, shovel in hand, to go to the bathroom. While doing this, I hear voices ahead, and I pray to God that they don't decide to do what I am, as it'd be embarrassing as high hell to be spotted like this! Haha! When I'm finished, I climb back up, and find Bandana Ben and his friend, "Something" Rex. We joke that the sleeping platform in this shelter couldn't hold anymore than 2 or 3 average-sized people, or maybe 5 or 6 midgets! Taped on a log on the front of this shelter, is a sign saying that it is NOT Abingdon Gap Shelter, and that it is some 2 or so miles more! Criminy! I thought I was booking it, despite my gimp leg, and had already covered 5-more-miles!The three of us press on, and they soon widen a gap between us as they are seriously trucking. I work to keep up. My muscles are definitely up to the task, but I feel as I'm going to fast to take in the trees, the plants, the flowers, the buzzing bees; also, my shin doesn't like me walking at all, let alone at speeds such as that! So, I slow down, and, like a sponge, soak in the beautiful surrounding area.Abingdon Gap Shelter isn't far north, and I find myself there before long. I literally collapse in the shelter. This walking is all the more hard with my shin feeling like it is, and I opt to rest here for a good while before pressing on for the last 10-miles into town (I have hiked 8.3-miles to here). Deep Swyg shows up, eager to get some water. I warn him that it's 800ft behind the shelter, and he soon heads in that direction. Shortly after, I hear the pitter-patter of rain, and see Deep Swyg quickly come back, saying he doesn't want to get rained on. Eventually, he runs down there with his platypus-like reservoir (maybe it was the platypus brand), filled with water. He warns me that it's not treated, but that I can pump directly out it if I like. I gladly do so, thanking him for his kindness, and he also gives me some powerade (gatorade?) packets! I'm being spoiled out there by the sheer kindness of 98% of the people I meet! Before long, the entire high school group shows up. One of the girls has hideous blisters on her feet, and likely needs to see a doctor when they get into Damascus. They're planning to stay here for the night.After maybe an hour, I hoist my pack onto my back, and press on. 6.5-miles to the Tennessee/Virginia border, then 3.5-miles more to Damascus! One of the girls sees me getting ready to leave, and comments, "You're hiking on? I thought you hurt your leg?!" I assure that I have hurt my leg, adding, "It's going to hurt tomorrow, too, and there's still going to be 10-miles more to hike into town! I'd rather get it done now, since I'm acclimated to the pain then in the morning, where I'd have re-acclimate myself to it."There aren't many elevations gains and losses between here and the border, for which I'm greatly thankful. I'm getting slightly emotional at the prospect of entering a new state, as sad as I am with the condition of my leg. The 6.5-miles seem so short, as I soon see a weather-beaten wooden sign, reading, "Welcome to Mount Rogers National Recreation Area, Jefferson National Forest." A line of rocks are placed across the Trail, designating the border between Virginia and Tennessee! I've made it to the Month-of-Virginia (a joke coined by another, which I read in a register, as it generally takes around a month to hike the 522 or so miles of the state of Virginia). Tears well up in my eyes, tears of joy. The pain in my leg doesn't matter to me right now; I have made it to Virginia. I have hiked through the rugged North Georgia mountains (easily the most difficult section of the Trail so far), North Carolina, the Smoky Mountains, and Tennessee! I have made it to Virginia! I take several pictures, first of the sign itself, then zoomed in of the stenciled "VA" and "TN" on one of the legs of the sign, then of myself by the sign! This is too exciting!I wipe the tears off of my face, and out of my burly beard, and press on to town. It's mainly downhill from here, with a relatively easy grade. I can soon hear traffic and "town noise" through the trees, and the occasional house and business building rooftop. The Trail then opens up with a vista of town to the left, and I see right into peoples backyards. One gentleman is on his back porch, and waves at me, with a big smile on his face. I descend and blindly follow one of the roads (the Trail isn't clearly marked right here, as I remember it). I know there's a wooden "banner" sign saying "Welcome to Damascus", and I keep my eyes peeled for it. There it is, right across what appears to be one of the main towns. I snap a picture of the sign, and press on the Trail, which splits two ways, both going along a park and joining on the opposite end. I take the right side, away from the street, and along the woods and creek. Another gentleman is sitting on one of the picnic tables, reading a book. He sees me, and smiles, saying, "Welcome to Damascus!" Already, this town is living up to its being called "The Friendliest Town on the Appalachian Trail."The Trail comes to an intersection, going to the right after passing old railway cars. The Trail crosses a creek on a bridge, where I meet two ladies. The older of the two eagerly recommends I stay at The Place Hostel, and makes sure to tell me that her son donated that building, which turns out to be an old house. Up ahead, I pass by a bicycle outfitter, and I can then see the mural on the side of Mount Rogers Outfitter. Last night, I snapped one of the plastic buckles on my backpack, and am in need of replacing it. I have hiked with my rain tarp on my backpack all day today, just to keep it closed. I head into the outfitter, and meet Jeff, another kindred spirit. He replaces the buckle for free. I also tell him that the seams on my boots are slowly starting to come loose, and he makes a glue concoction for me to reseal my boots with.In the outfitter, I meet a hiker named Dogwood. He lives in Abingdon, a nearby town, and is planning to hike from Springer Mountain to here. He offers to let me stay at his apartment the next town over, warning me that there might be a lot of noise do to his friends and himself playing in a bluegrass band. He says that most of them work in restaurants, and can likely get me free food, and can maybe even give me some money if I need it. I gladly accept his invitation, thinking this sounds better than The Place. I head over there anyways, just to see what hikers are over there. Dogwood says he'll find me over there.At The Place, it turns out that I know most of the crew here already, or have at least seen them in the registers! Here is Mismatch and Spyder, both "put up" for nasty shin splints like mine (it turns out that Spyder started back in March, but got stress fractures in both legs for not allowing ample time for his shins to heal); Matt, whom I haven't seen since Overmountain Shelter and US19E; Ukulele is here, playing and singing beautifully; there is also a bicyclist named Lauren, and an older couple whose names escape me. The older lady shows me a nice shin stretch, which hurts like hell to do!Mismatch, Spyder, Lauren, and I head up to Dots Inn and Cafe, where we each drink a pitcher of beer, and have dinner. I, myself, eat TWO dinners, as I am voraciously hungry!I'm wearing my camp shoes, which have no ankle support or padding, definitely exacerbating the pain in my shin. I have no idea quite how ridiculous I must look, but suffice it to say that I must look pitiful to any onlookers. I take a bed upstairs, and pass out. I'm sad that I must take another day off tomorrow, as I just took a few easy days at Kinkora Hostel. But, what am I to do? Hike on, likely getting a stress fracture? In fact, the best I know how to describe the pain IS as a broken bone! After saying my prayers, I go to sleep, trying to push these worries out of my mind, hoping for nice weather tomorrow.