Date: 2003-05-01
From: Apple House Shelter

To: View Entry
Miles today: 0.0

I awoke this a.m. to the sound of my alarm - 7a.m.. Last night I sat alone by my fire drying out until midnight. I could not get up. I dozed and woke and tried to stir and dozed and woke, etc. Finally at 8:30 I got up. I had a scant 5 miles to go to the next shelter then 5 after that to get to Dennis Cove then 2 to get to Kircora(?) where a feast was to be held. Hikers from all over would hitch in for free, real, good food and great company. I was finally "in the know" about these gatherings. I kept hearing people talk about them after the fact or at a distance too far for me to travel. But this time I was in easy striking distance. The only difference was that instead of camping at a campground/store .5 miles from the trail, I would camp at a hostel/shuttle .2 miles from it. Now, on good terrain and in good weather, and with only a few day's food in my pack, I traveled at about 2 miles an hour, including breaks. Today was quickly becoming sunny. I had 10 miles of easy, gradual terrain with maybe one good up and down and I was almost out of food. Perfect! I could leave by noon and still make it to Kircora by 5 p.m. So I left at 11 a.m. just to be sure. At that time I should go for about 2 hours, do a sharp incline, then descend to the shelter in another 30 minutes. Then a sharp up and long descent to Dennis Cove. So off I went: noon, one, ascent, descent, 1:30, ascent, descent (each descent is into a creek bed and each ascent is to a summit, each without switchbacks and very slippery). 2 ups/downs, 3 ups/downs - by this time I am irate. I had passed 2 roads that had bags and coolers (usually that means trail magic) and each was empty or full of trash. I had set a goal for myself of making it to Kircora in time for the event. Goals are tricky. With them you are less likely to listen to the trail and experience it's wonders, but without them one could easily sit at the first good spot in a day and get nowhere. But today was all about the goal. I did not like it. I did not like how I was feeling about or acting toward the trail. Time and again I felt frustrated, tired or hurt. I should just let it go, trust in the trail, and enjoy the wonders that unfolded. But not today. I wanted the enjoyment of Kircora. I had to get somewhere - not enjoy the wonder met on the journey. I don't know what was driving me so hard. A meal? Companionship? But whatever it was it was set in and I had no love for the trail that day. Cursing everything and everyone I could remotely place responsibility on for MY woes. At one point I came into total awareness of this and knew that if I just let go I could enjoy the day and let it bring whatever it brings. But, the voice in my head said "NO! You are not giving up and using trail magic as an excuse for your failure!" So on I went. I know at this point I had been flying. I had heard that there was some type of re-direct on the trail that might have added a couple of miles. And the reality had set in. On another rock at about 3:30 I pulled out my map. I had gone non-stop for 4.5 hours. So I must have gone at least 9 miles. 3:30 and no shelter in sight and 5 miles to go after the shelter. Walking smelly and tired into the party was not appealing. Again I pressed on, resigned to the fact that the re-direct was at least 6 miles and who knows how much more. At 4:00 p.m. I rolled into the shelter, finally. According to the Morehead Gap shelter log, the redirect was 6 miles and everyone was hurling invectives - even little Bingo! Peeps was there to commiserate. He chose not to move on - just to follow the Trail. He sat sunning at the shelter, spending the mild day reading a book. I scarfed down my lunch and made some Gatorade with my emergency water and headed out. 6:30 may be late and I may be smelly but food is food and hikers make great company. Up to the fire tower...hikers don't much like seeing fire towers or observation towers in bad weather or when feeling rushed because it means the highest point around. A red clay, rutty Jeep road, straight up, no turns, and no shade led me to the summit where remnants of a fire tower encircled a cell phone tower. Then the descent. Down and down. A burning sensation that started earlier in the day now ate like acid on the top of every toe. Pains come and go and move around as a matter of course, but why now and why there was a total mystery. The last mile was unending thruogh a rocky summer creek bed. For the 2nd time on this journey I felt like I could cry. Every step hurt so badly, but I wanted to get to that party. Finally I saw a blacktop. A brutally cruel turn led me away from it and into the woods, but only for a moment, then the road. I walked for maybe 2 minutes calculating .2 miles into yards and chuckled at how absurd hitching would be, but how nice. Than a car pulled up. A fellow hiker was driving by with a friend and they offered me a lift and up to Kircora I went! Thanking them profusely, I was greeted by Mousetrap Ben. I did not recognize him as he had shaved off his beard. He told me about my misinformation. I had to have him repeat like 5 times, but it was true - no party tonight. I wandered through a full hostel. I spoke to Trucker, Bingo, Gunner, Sniper, Tucson, Ben and Tyler, but can't remember a word. I then was on a shuttle to Hampton with Lightwalker and Tough Cookie. Cool house - room to myself in most notoriously hiker unfriendly town on the trail. Rumors of fishing line booby traps and dogs set loose on hikers. But I was glad for my resupply, fresh hot food, a warm bed and hot shower and laundry. As always, the Trail twists and turns, every up leads to a down, and down leads up.