Date: 2006-04-22
From: Overmountain Shelter

To: Laurel Fork Campsite
Miles today: 21.1

Overmountain shelter to Laurel Fork campsite. 21.1 Miles. largest trash day yet: 103.The morning began with an enjoyablesit atop a privy. enjoyable because it was the first toilet I'd sat on in quite a while (it seemed there were more shelters without privies lately than there were with), and it was a 3 sided number with short walls so I was able to gaze out at the surrounding mountains as low-flying clouds passed by one right after another, as though trying to prevent what had begun as a reasonably clear morning.ate breakfast with Squarl. the 2 of us sat at the picnic table in the bottom level of the barn, looking out at the bald face of a mountain. Squarl pointed out a couple of white-tailed deer--only the whites of their tails visible from such a distance (at least for my eyes), as they chased each other across the bald."do you ever wake up hungry and full at the same time?" I heard Dinosaur asking as I walked back upstairs."sometimes I wake up naked and confused," Double-Shot answered as he readied his pack for departure. then suddenly noticing something amiss, his voice changed: "oh no. no, no. not again.""what happened?""they got my dino-facts oatmeal," Double-Shot groaned. "ahhh man, not my dino-facts.""mice?" I asked.he nodded. "they got me the night before last also.""aren't you hanging up your food?""well, not the first night. I did last night but I forgot this bag." he held up a gallon-sized Zip-loc containing with a corner chewed through it.I beat Squarl and Double-Shot out of the barn but the 2 of them would pass me within 15 minutes. they were planning to go all the way to Concora--a 32 mile day. I needed to make up some lost time and didn't know how far I was going so I figured I may as well keep up with them as long as I could. but they were moving fast and got too far ahead of me when I stopped to take some pictures.as I was coming over the top of Little Hump Mountain, I fell and slid down a rock, completely wetting the back of my shorts. the rain and mist from the day before had returned and clouds were pushing hastily into the mountains. I stopped to put on my shell and noticed the woods on my right had been devastated by a landmine of trash. leaning my pack up against a tree, I sighed and began to pick them up the scattered debris and quickly noticed a pattern. there were a combined 14 pieces of trash, half of which had matching pieces. there were two cans of Starkist tuna, two pop-top lids, two packets of mayonaise, two packets of relish, two plastic mixing dishes along eith two plastic lids, and finally two little wooden spoons for mixing and eating. the trash was spread all over the place, as if these two inconsiderate kids, hunters or whoever they were, had just uncaringly flung each item away when they were finished with it.I was burning by the time I'd picked it all up and even more so when I came across another pile of shrapnel five minutes later. in this deposit I found two peanut-butter cracker wrappers and two potato chip bags.I cursed my two nemeses silentlyand stuffed the litter into my Zip-loc.by the time I reached the top of Hump mountain the mist was so thick, I couldn't see anything. and then as I came around a bend, I suddenly found myself standing amidst 6 enormous bulls with horns four feet across and as round as rollbars. there were two on my left and four on my right, and trail went right between them. I hesitated, studying them all intently before contiuing on. 5 full-grown steer and one healthy calf. all of them were lying down and none seemed interested in me.when I got to within a couple feet of the calf, it quickly sprang up beside me and took a few nervous steps away.great, I thought. this is where they gore me. defending the little one when I had no ill-intentions whatsoever. I swiveled around towards the nearest bull--the ring through its nose had the diameter of a softball, its black eyes stared blankly at me, but the beast never rose to its feet--never stirred.I continued on, making cautious looks behind me for the 30 seconds, until I had rounded the next bend.a couple of miles later I saw that my nemeses had struck again. this time there were two more peanut-butter crackers, two Hostess snack wrappers, along with the white, paper backing, and two plastic bottles of Aquafina Flavor Blast--8 more scattered pieces to make a grand total of 26-- one fourth of what I would pick up that day. my nemeses had to be stopped.another problem was the fact that I hadn't seen a garbage can since Erwin and because of all the plastic bottles and aluminum cans I'd collected in the past 4 days, I was very close to my trash limit. I simply didn't have any more extra space in my pack. I'd just about already overdone it already.about a mile before the Apple House shelter, the rain really began to come down. I stopped in the shelter long enough to read the register and then kept going, hoping for a trail miracle--that I'd find a trash can when I crossed over US19E.instead I got the opposite.The Thru-Hikers Handbook warns that "several acts of vandalism on hiker vehicles" have occured at this road crossing as well as "occasional unfriendly comments yelled by passing motorists." what the book did not explain was that it had also become a trash dump used by locals-- probably hoping to deter future hikers or keep our kind as far away from them as possible.the place was a wasteland. bags of trash had been thrown onto the trail, and some even appeared to have been deliberately ripped open to make any kind of cleanup attempt that much more difficult. milk and juice containers, broken glass, plastic bottles, wrappers, eggshells and a hundred other things you wouldn't want to touch--there was even an old stained mattress lying there.I walked through the devastation without pause, shaking my head and wondering what was wrong with these people--how anyone could take part of such a violation of nature or allow this to happen to a place so close to home was beyond me.I walked for hours and at some point in the afternoon the sun would return and begin to dry out my boots and clothes. eventually I would settle down for the evening at the Laurel Fork Campsite, tenting next to Andy Dufresne, Squarl and Double-Shot, whom had decided that 21.1 miles was enough to call it a day.before long I would be sitting around a warm fire, enjoying my company, and again thoroughly entertained by the voice of Christopher Walkin. for the second straight day, smiles and laughter would prove to dominate the evening, but the crimes I'd witnessed earlier had left a scar in the back of my mind--a deep gash that would not be forgotten.RANDOM REGISTER ENTRY:"I petition that we rename these Brushy Mtns 'Nutella Mtns,' plant some hazelnut trees, and hire a few oompa-loompas to make vats of nutella exclusively for AT thru hikers." love Bugs