Date: 2004-05-31
From: Rock Spring Hut

To: Pass Mountain Hut
Miles today: 15.3
Weather: moderate rain

There is a line one crosses when traveling from the South to the North.    This unmistakable indication that you have left the land of Dixie and, for the Yankee born-and-bred, are that much closer to home is a line more significant than the Mason-Dixon line, or any state or county boundry. Such lines are invented by man. The line of which I speak, however, is an unfortunate by-product of regional differences in culture.   ¢And what would you like to drink,¢ asked the waiter.   I¢ll have a sweet tea.   ¢Ok,¢ he says, and starts to write it down in his little notepad. Then he stops and looks back up at me. ¢Well, we have iced tea, but there¢s the sugar on the table.¢   I don¢t want iced tea with sugar. I want sweet tea. There is a world of difference.   I have crossed the aforementioned line. It¢s official; I¢m no longer in the South.    Just get me an orange juice.   I raced 4.6 miles with Q-Tip this morning hoping to make it here in time for breakfast. The two of us are now seated with The Pokey Puppies in the restaurant at Skyland, once a 19th century mountain summer resort.   ¢Order anything you like,¢ says Mrs. Puppy. ¢It¢s on us.¢   I had planned on ordering a large breakfast, but now feel guilty. She senses this and insists I make no changes to whatever my order would have been. I hope she doesn't regret this.    I order a large breakfast: eggs, bacon, potatoes, biscuits & gravy, and a yogurt parfait on the side. Halfway through, I need another orange juice.   As we finish our breakfasts and ready ourselves to leave, MC, Willow & Sweet Cheeks arrive for lunch. I get outside, lift up my pack and strap it on, and then start to think. Q-Tip and the Pokey Puppies can't believe it when I tell them to go ahead without me.   Less than 10 minutes after finishing my big breakfast, I'm asking MC and the ladies if they wouldn't mind me joining them. I'm not sure which was tastier: the steak and cheese (with potato chips), or the Brownie Sundae I ordered thereafter.   Eventually, I start to hike, stopping at one point to take in a gorgeous view at Mary's Rock with MC and Willow, breathing in the vista with it's low-lying clouds and crisp mountain air deeply--truly the scenic highlight of the day, and possibly the entire park--and again to make a pit stop at a place along the way called Panarama. With a pay phone available, I take this opportunity to call home as well. By now, it has started to pour. Hard. Staying dry underneath the overhanging roof above the phone does nothing to lift my spirts and my parents do not hear from a cheerful son.   The rain stops, however, by the time I'm finished. I hike the rest of the way to Pass Mountain Hut and sit at the picnic table to prepare dinner. Unknowningly, I take Chef Ra's seat and, as soon as he says something, move without hesitation.   "Leki-Less is being non-confrontational tonight," observes Prozac. He's right. After last night's close call, I'm not interested in tempting the fates.    My stove gives me some problems and Chef Ra fixes it, everyone makes room in the shelter so nobody has to to pitch a tent with the area being so wet, and I go to sleep for the last time in Shendandoah National Park.