Date: 2018-04-17
From: Boots Off Hostel, mile 428

To: Stealth camp, mile 519.5
Miles today: 91.5
Weather: clear sky

That was a pretty sad attempt at making a heart with my hands, but you get the picture. Well I made it to my 4th state! Virginia is the longest I will be in one state, as I will be on trail for 541 miles until crossing into West Virginia near the overall halfway point. Virginia started off great with a quick jaunt into Damascus for a resupply and to check out the local outfitters. A complete stranger who never even spoke to me picked up my all-you-can-eat pizza tab for lunch, and Adrienne and BJ drove out from Kingsport to treat me to a great dinner. Thanks guys!! I didn¢t stay in town, and declined Adrienne¢s offer for a warm bed and shower that night. I walked another mile down the trail to camp, knowing I was only 2 days away from getting to the much anticipated Grayson Highlands.Picture this: It¢s a warm sunny day, but a bit breezy, as you would expect while walking through open meadows and rolling hills. It is the middle of April in the south, after all. You can see for miles in all directions. You see more open balds and mountains, and large rock structures jutting straight up out of the fields. There are wild ponies grazing in the endless green grass. They walk towards you as they hear the familiar sound of the rustling of your potato chip bag. They eat from you hand and you give them a quick pet and take the obligatory selfie. You name one Steve, and the other Daffodil; but you don¢t really know their names. They look happy together. Birds chirping, and a hawk circles above, cruising effortlessly as it searches for lunch. This continues on for several miles, and all is right with the world. This is the Grayson Highlands; or at least how it went in everything I read, the pictures I saw, and the YouTube videos I watched.Now, picture this: It just dumped 2 inches of rain the day before, but you didn¢t mind because it¢s 70 degrees and you just got a free shower and laundry. Then, overnight, the temperature drops 40 degrees, rain turns to snow. Everything that was wet is now frozen. You can¢t hike in the dry clothes you¢re wearing, because keeping these clothes dry in the only thing that will keep you warm when you get into your tent later that night. It¢s 9am, 30 degrees and windy. You strip all of your dry clothes off and put your frozen clothes on, including your frozen socks and boots. You quickly realize ¢waterproof¢ is a very loose term in the outdoor clothing industry. As you start hiking, everything eventually melts and is just wet and cold. You ascend to the highest point in VA, Mt Rogers. The temperature drops into the 20s, and the winds only get stronger as the day goes on. Then you enter the wide open Grayson Highlands. You can see about 50 feet in front of you due to the storm and the ice pellets hitting your face at 40mph. The clothes on your body flash freeze again. The grass, trees and shrubs are all coated in ice. All of the pooled water from the rains the day before turn the trail into an ice rink. You walk 20 degrees off-center, leaning into the wind so you don¢t get blown off of the trail. Suddenly, the wind changes direction and you fall off the other side of the trail instead. You look through squinted eyes to find any solid ground to put your next foot. You see a nice place for your right foot to land; you go for it. Next thing you know, you¢re laces deep in horse poop, which also flash freezes to your boot. You get to the majestic rocks jutting up from the hills, and then have to traverse up, then down them. Oh, they¢re coated in ice too. You follow 2x6 inch white markers that are painted periodically on the trees and rocks. Good thing those are all covered in white snow, and there are dozens of intersecting horse trails and side trails. As you walk across the 500 mile mark, even the voice in your head singing The Proclaimers, ¢I¢m gonna Be¢ is shivering. There are no ponies to be found because what living creature would be walking through this? You finally get to camp, halfway through the highlands. You set up your tent, which is now frozen solid, and the winds try to blow it off into the woods. You don¢t sleep because it¢s too cold and the winds sound like a freight train trying to rip your frozen tent to shreds. You wake up the next day to find the same: The sun is out, but everything you own is still frozen. Same routine. Dry clothes off, frozen clothes on, and walk for 3 more hours through bitter cold and wind. You see 3 wild ponies in the distance, but it¢s too cold to do anything but snap a picture and keep moving. That was my experience in the Grayson Highlands..and in the Smokies..and in the Roan Mtn area..and at least once a week for the past 6 weeks.Part of me wants to get to the top of the next mountain and scream ¢YOU CALL THIS A STORM? IT¢S TIME FOR A SHOWDOWN, YOU AND ME. I¢M RIGHT HERE, COME AND GET ME!!¢, like Lieutenant Dan in the crow¢s nest on Forrest Gump¢s shrimp boat. The other part of me wants to book the next flight to Jamaica.This isn¢t just hiking 2,190 miles to Maine. No, not this year. This is the Hunger Games, and Mother Nature is Coriolanus Snow. She writes the game and makes the rules, trying to knock as many people out as possible. I guess we have 4 more months to figure out which of the Tributes I am.