Date: 2017-04-11
From: Whitetop Mountain, VA

To: The Scales, VA
Miles today: 14.9

Day 35: Whitetop Mountain, VA to The Scales, VA - 14.9 miles:I found myself sitting next to a small cascading stream just before exiting the treeline as the trail skirted Mt. Rogers, thinking about how great of a day it was, and of the nice things to come. I dipped my head beneath the clear surface of a small pool of water, letting the rejuvenating water run down my face. As I did so, Freight Train passed by and we'd continue our way towards Grayson Highlands.Earlier in the morning we had both woke, along with the majority of hikers, at or just after 6am. Another round of breakfast was enjoyed by all. More steaming blueberry pancakes, hot coffee, crisp OJ, sliced bananas, hard-boiled eggs, and cereal. Well, the only person to eat cereal was Booty who made a serious dent in his around-the-world tour of cereals. Having a bowl of each, he successfully downed five or six of the 10 or so offered by Woodchuck. Knowing we only had a relatively chill 15 miles to cover, Freight Train and I relaxed and waited around the hostel until 9am when Woodchuck would shuttle us the ~45 minutes back to the top of Whitetop Mountain. As we waited, Freight Train and I had the opportunity to weigh our packs on an old school scale at the hostel. Freight Train's rang in at 36lbs, and mine a little less at 28lbs. Seeing that my pack held enough food to get me the final four days of my hike, I felt pretty good about the total.On the way to Whitetop Mountain, Freight Train asked Chuck if he could quickly.pull over so he could pee - it must've been the coffee. This is something I'd expect myself to do, and not 40 year old Freight Train. I held my bladder up the bumpy gravel road of Whitetop and, after a quick and appreciative goodbye to Chuck, was peeing along the trail within a few yards in. Freight Train made his plan clear from the start: the goal would be to not sweat or breathe heavily all day. If we did, we'd slow down. Having pushed big miles over the past week, we both decided to back off and enjoy the next few days. He'll be meeting a friend in Marion, VA on Saturday and I'll be wrapping my journey up then. Although we could've knocked out the distance in two days, we'll instead spread it over four.Enjoying a pace that hovered around 2mph for most of the day, we were able to enjoy the forests around us, take in the views as they came, and enjoy conversation. We dropped off the north side of Whitetop Mountain, down into Elk Park, a gap with a road followed by a large grassy hill that rises quickly towards Mt. Rogers behind. Normally home to a lot of cows, today the exposed field was empty, save the many cow patties and permanent footpaths created over the years. The sky was big and blue, and the sun shown bright. It was obvious the Grayson Highlands, still a few miles ahead, would be a treat.As the water ran down my face, it's coolness sending goosebumps down my back, I joined back with Freight Train as we closed in on Mt. Rogers, the highest point in Virginia. As we skirted around the mountain, the trees transitioned into a type of fur, the smell of Christmas blowing through the air. When we reached the blue blazed trail that leads half a mile to the summit, I asked Freight Train if he wanted to go up, despite not having a view. Having decided the AT doesn't cross the high point of each state it passes through, he decided it wouldn't matter too much so on we continued. A couple hundred yards later we passed Thomas Knob Shelter, a lone hiker we didn't know sitting in the doorway.The trail gradually becomes easier and wider as it passes through Grayson Highlands State Park due to the number of visitors. I peered through the surrounding trees and brush as we hiked, trying to spot any of the wild ponies or steers that roam the highlands, but with no luck. We eventually crested a series of Rocky outcroppings to the top of the plateau-like terrain that is Grayson Highlands. 360-degree views were.enjoyed of the mountains towering in all directions, a series of thin ridges and valleys further into Virginia, and the top of Mt. Rogers rising behind us. As we sat resting in the sun and taking pictures, I spotted a few ponies over a quarter mile away, the flicks of their tails catching the sun just right and making it possible to see in the otherwise rocky, shrub-covered distance. Freight Train decided he would bushwack to them because his wife would've been upset knowing he didn't attempt to get a picture with one.Off we were across the highlands, off the well-beaten path of the AT, instead following the paths created by the ponies themselves. Over a quarter mile later, through stick-like bushes that stuck and cut our legs, over one stream, and crawling beneath a barbed wire fence, we reached the group of five ponies, well hidden from the site of most hikers. We easily approached a white and reddish one who was far more interested in munching on the moist grass at its feet to care about us. We pet it, took a few pictures with it, and parted ways to get back to our gear we had left back along the trail.After downing a quick snack and some water, we began hiking through the many outcroppings and dead trees that dotted the area. A young man soon stopped us and, having thru-hiked in 2010 himself, asked if we'd like some cookies. Um.....Of course. We both took two chocolate chip cookies, said thanks, and continued on, now much happier as the taste of chocolate filled out mouths. Soon after, we both successfully fit through a tight path between a series of downed boulders, Fatman Squeeze, which was refreshing seeing as though towns usually have a way of fattening hikers up.With the sun beating down from a cloudless sky, the temperature easily topped off around 75 degrees which feels hotter when hiking. We gradually dropped off the plateau area, down towards Wise Shelter, nestled in a valley below. As I approached the shelter, I noticed the back end of a pony standing by the open side of a shelter, but couldn't see it's head. As I walked behind the pony and around the shelter, I realized it was simply standing there, slowly shifting its weight on its back legs, but otherwise not moving. After petting it and grabbing a couple pictures, I styled its hair, making it look pretty darn Trump-esque. Freight Train originally planned to stop at this shelter for the day, despite not being 3pm yet, but I suggested he come with me to a much sweeter spot, the scales, only five miles farther. We continued several more miles, chatting about a variety of things, trail related and not. He shared with me that after September 11, 2001, he joined the Navy and would spend several tours in Iraq on a bomb squad diffusing/removing bombs (see the movie, The Hurt Locker, for the general idea.)We soon stopped at our last water source before the shelter, still a mile and a half away, where I'd continue on while Freight Train filtered his water. Just around a couple corners I stumbled across another half dozen or so ponies, one being a baby. I spent over 20 minutes trying unsuccessfully to play with the baby, but was able to grab a few pictures instead. I then continued up a rocky path in the direction of the AT, determined to cover the final mile and a quarter and be done for the day. Within 100 yards later, I instantly knew I had missed a turnoff and was instead hiking down a gravel road I knew would definitely lead to the stable. However, not wanting to cut trail as much as possible, I cut up and began bushwhacking my way up the side of Stone Mountain where I knew the trail rain along the top.Twenty minutes later and still no trail. No sign of the trail. A lot of grass, bushes, low trees, another half dozen ponies in the distance, and me standing a few inches deep in a wet bog. Dammit. Such a good day, and now my socks and shoes are soaked. I was too stubborn to bushwhack back down to the road and instead continued following animal paths, heading in every direction at least twice, before finally just catching the silhouette of a hiker as he crested a small ridge a couple hundred yards away. Following the animal trails in the general direction of where the hiker had been ultimately did the trick, and I soon found myself back on the trail descending into the large fenced-in area of the corral. Freight Train, sitting in what little shade a lone sign offered, said he had done the same thing as me and missed the turnoff. He had stuck with the road, though, and had beaten me. Knowing I wasn't the only one made me feel a bit better.With the sun still out and the air warm, I quickly ditched my shoes for my bare feet in order to let them dry. Within minutes a hiker named Willie, camping in a tent behind his old beat-up Nissan truck and wearing a "Hiker Trash" ball cap, asked if we'd like a beer. We quickly made our way over, enjoying the amazing feeling of soft grass beneath our feet, and enjoyed a refreshing PBR as we chatted.At just before 5pm, we.had plenty of time to find some level ground, set up camp, eat, and chat, all before the sun began setting. As we chatted, stagnant gray clouds formed overhead, dropping an occasional fat drop on us as we sat in the grass outside our tents. The sun was still out and most of the sky blue which made for a cool contrast. It's now nearing 9pm and the world is dark. Freight Train is tossing in his tent nearby, a pony is trotting just outside the corral fence, and creatures of the night are playing their songs. A low rumble of thunder is echoing in the west and could possibly make for a a wet night ahead.With ~38 miles remaining until Marion, VA, we plan to do a similar, relaxed hike tomorrow of around ~16 miles. We plan to be up and out much earlier than we need to be, but it'll simply allow us more time to cover the miles and/or relax at the end of the day. For now, here's to another epic day in the Grayson Highlands - definitely a stretch of trail I'd recommend to anyone.