Date: 2020-07-05
From: Chestnut Knob Shelter

To: Rt 52 (Bland)
Miles today: 22.0

It never really darkened last night. The full moon illuminated the shelter for hours, followed by an early gloaming. The valley below was shrouded in tendrils of mist, like islands rising from a grey-white sea. Hiked out past a family tenting a hundred yards north under tree cover. Oddly the grassy meadow had almost no condensation. I'd later hear from another hiker that the family shunned the shelter because someone had been vomiting in it yesterday afternoon before we arrived. I know, too much information , right? But curiosity killed the cat. "Um, which bunk?" First one on the left by the door. "Oh, that was my bunk... it seemed clean though." Ah, the joys of shelters.The trail started out with a big downhill, but reverted to a roller coaster pattern with lots of rocks as it followed the ridgeline. So far Virginia has been quite rocky. I don't mind the larger rocks that are firmly dug in and provide leverage for climbing or braking. It's the loose rocks that slide or threaten a twisted ankle. It requires some concentration to plan several steps in advance to maintain an adequate pace. Add this mental fatigue to the physical exertion, humidity, and heat (up to 90 degrees I was told), and my energy sagged early on. Took a couple of breaks just sitting on the trail, very uncharacteristic of me. I usually push on regardless. Sometimes I just needed to take off the pack. Unlike the Exos, whose taut mesh separated the pack from my back to allow some airflow, the CDT, like most packs, is directly against me. My back sweats profusely, so much so it runs down and soaks my shorts. I know, too much information again. But this is hiker reality. You're wet when it rains and you're wet when the sun shines. Water was scarce. Sunshine reported going a quarter mile off trail to find a puddle of water. I had grabbed an extra liter climbing Chestnut Knob last night so was able to hold off the seven or eight miles from the shelter to a creek. Passed a young couple backpacking southbound, and later an older section hiker named D6. After the Caterpillar tractor, an "old tractor stuck in first gear". He's a Mainer, who does trail maintenance up there including relocating privies. God bless him! Currently hiking from Pearisburg to Damascus.The terrain eased up after Laurel Creek, where I splashed cold water over my head and soaked my shirt to get some natural air conditioning. In fact thunder started booming in the distance and a wind blew in. Then lightening cracked less than a second from us, putting us on edge for a bit. A light rain, barely noticeable, was enough to take the worst of the heat off as we pounded out the last miles along dirt sidehill trail with easy grades. Soon we emerged at route 52 a few miles north of Bland. Sadly the Brushy Mountain Outpost, a hiker favorite diner located right at the trailhead, is closed on weekends for the time being. But I had called Mongo from Lickskillet Hostel to pick us up. He dropped us in Bland to resupply at the Dollar General and fill up at Subway. Then returned and took us through Dairy Queen's drive-thru for the milkshake I've been craving for the past 500 miles. Thank you, Mongo! Much needed!He brought with him a dreadlocked thirty-something named Dead Bear, a multiple thruhiker whose pack with water and four days' food is only fifteen pounds! He started March 1, but had to back out of the Smokies when they closed in late March.Tortoise and three other thruhikers were at the hostel, an old country church converted to a huge open space full of real beds, comfortable sofas, and a kitchen. They are all planning to flip up north within the next week or two. Their old trail family stayed on trail throughout and are now approaching Vermont. They started way back in mid-February with tag numbers around 150. Even that early there were fifteen people at Springer the day they started. They hiked through several snowstorms early on. Twelve inches on the tent one morning. Four inches when tackling the difficult Albert Mountain climb. One hiker actually died back in February. Probably from hypothermia and delirium-induced exposure. He was found off trail by search-and-rescue five days later. Severe hypothermia induces such mental confusion it causes you to feel hot and discard protective clothing. Not to be downplayed. Always come prepared to stay dry when it's cold and wet. I know, I had a case up in Maine (in August!) and certainly wasn't thinking clearly for awhile.On a brighter note, the beds are very comfortable here and Mongo is going to slackpack me 18 miles tomorrow. After that it will be a short day to the famous Woods Hole Hostel which I've never visited. This stretch has developed so many great hostels in recent years it's becoming known as a hostel-hopping run. A book called Platinum Blazing the AT calls out many of the excellent (and cheap) accomodations for those wishing to "hike", not necessarily "camp", the Appalachian Trail.