Virginia

Day 22, June 29

After a gentle climb into the hills, the trail leveled for several miles and made for a delightful stint of hiking. The sky was cloudy and the morning fairly cool, but again the humidity was high. Our packs felt heavy. No doubt we had purchased too much food for this three day stretch. By noon we had eaten three breakfasts and two lunches in an attempt to lighten our loads.

On display in town was the Virginia Creeper, a small, steam powered locomotive. And for a ways out of town we had walked on the Virginia Creeper Trail - the old railroad grade. Mid-day we joined this grade again, and followed it across a tremendous old trestle Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out that spanned the creek. Curiously, half way across the bridge we saw a Black Rat Snake perched on the outer ties. We wondered how it had reached that point - traversing the bridge, or climbing the vines of one of the tall supports? It was alive, but not in the best shape. We later wondered if a large bird of prey had left it here.

The trail made a long, ascending traverse through dense nettles, then gained a bald. We stopped near Buzzard Rock for a sandwich. Now late in the day we pressed down the mountain, glad that the sky was cloudy and the afternoon cool. At Low Gap we were unable to find water, but we did encounter a group of deer, one of which allowed Jenny to approach to within a few yards before moseying away. A short ways farther we came to a junction and spent several perplexing moments trying to determine which way to proceed , until eventually we found some very old white blazes. Darkness fell and we stumbled ahead, this time without the usual trepidation, for at last we had bought a small flashlight. Also, the sky had cleared and the moon helped illuminate the way, but in the darker regions we used the battery-powered light. Often the trail would break out of the forest to reveal a resplendent night sky. Three planets and the moon hung together on the ecliptic clothesline. The night was serene and the views expansive.

At 10:00 pm we reached the Thomas Knob Shelter Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out . I had not worn a shirt all day, and here I made the mistake of traipsing down to the spring to collect water without bringing my shirt. The night was chilly, and as I waited for the pipe's trickle to fill our water bag I grew cold. We back-tracked to a level, grassy area, filtered more water, then lay in the tent eating cereal and reveling the comfort of the soft grassy bed.

Day's mileage: 28.2

In Damascus, a fellow had told us the trail was easier all the way to New Hampshire. Another fellow gave me the opposite advice: "Don't believe anyone who tells you the trail gets easier, or harder."

Day 23, June 30

We set off at 5:54 am carrying a sodden tent and fly, and a damp quilt. Beneath the open sky the night's dew had been remarkably heavy.

Nearly every day we've startled grouse, both mothers and chicks. By this time of year the chicks could fly, so rather than the mother playing the injured routine, designed to lure us away from her chicks, she would typically burst into flight, sometimes from the underbrush quite near. Invariably this gave us quite a start. The chicks would fly away in different directions, leaving us hoping they would find each other again. We have seen two rabbits lately, and in the vicinity of J's Market (19E TN/NC) we saw two woodchucks; they scurried away with no sense of urgency, but seemed disinclined to reveal their faces - we saw only their behinds.

From Thomas Knob Shelter the trail began leading this way and that, as if to make certain we did not miss any of the natural features in the area. The trail building folks had even gone so far as to paint blazes on a rock outcrop where one was to climb for a better view, before returning to the trail.

At one point we missed the proper turn and followed the light blue blazes down the hill. In the early morning light we failed to notice that these blazes were not white. Realizing our error, we backtracked to the junction and found the proper way. At one point the trail led through a fissure between boulders, and the easy way around was barricaded with a great number of tree branches. This particular segment of trail resembled a giant letter "C" with a two mile gap. We reached the C's far corner at 11:30 am.

Not to get ahead of ourselves, but the AT was seeming more a physical struggle than an ethereal wilderness experience. Yet, back in the old days, the wilderness struggle was real. And to paraphrase what the hiker "Son of Billy Goat" wrote in a register, we are accomplishing a great deal, and would do well to remember what we might otherwise be doing, (vegetating) back at home. Indeed, I would not rather be anywhere else, and Jenny feels the same.

We stopped at a shelter and hung our gear to dry while eating a couple of sandwiches. Ambling along, we met the "Blocks of Granite," (I like some of these colorful trail names.) a fellow and his three boys, whom we had met the previous day in Damascus. They had traveled ahead by car and were now back-hiking south. We enjoyed meeting them again.

We stopped at the Trimpi Shelter and collected water from its barely flowing spring. Reaching the South Fork Holston River Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out at 9:15 pm, we saw a single-person tent, its occupant ensconced quietly within. Rain fell lightly as we stumbled up the little traveled trail looking for a wide place to pitch our tent. We stopped hiking at 9:30 pm, close to the trail, and it wasn't until pitching the tent and crawling in, that we discovered the stench of some thoughtless person's cat hole not far away.

Day's mileage: 28.2

Day 24, July 1

After a night of sporadically heavy rain, we set off at 5:48 am, incredulous once again that the night had seemed to pass in a flash. Lay down, blink, three hours later, turn over, another three hours, the alarm sounds. Last night I slept without the insulating pad under me. This worked well, as the cool ground absorbed my body's overheat, which then warmed the ground comfortably. It seems that the pad has been causing me to sweat through the night.

We remembered when we had started the journey, so far behind the masses that the people we met doubted we would reach Katahdin in what little remained of the hiking season. Since then we have caught up with, and passed, a fair number of thru-hikers. So no longer do people doubt our itinerary. We are therefore telling the truth once again: that we are thru-hiking.

Today we met Toby Woodard, "Son of Billy Goat," a young fellow thru-hiking the trail (his dad, George, goes by the trail name "Billy Goat"). When we said we too were thru-hiking he said, "slackin' it today, eh?" This was the standard reaction, based on the small size of our packs. We were considering enlarging our packs with pressurized helium bladders to make them more believable.

Reaching the ranger station at VA-16 Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out we met "Son of Billy Goat's" girlfriend, "Random Vine." We sat chatting with her while eating a cereal breakfast.

After hiking more mountains, we descended through a few open slopes where the sunlight was intense. I had finally discovered the benefits of hiking shirtless, for the cooling effect, and as the day wore on I became sunburned. We stopped at an irrigation canal and indulged in a revitalizing dip, which left us feeling clean enough for the upcoming brush with civilization. The trail led past a long-since collapsed homestead, the only viable vestige of which were a pair of fruit trees - one an apple tree and the other a cherry. We sampled their fruits with gratitude, then headed for the nearby Village Motel and Restaurant Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out .

After a filling meal, actually a pair of them each, we proceeded to the Truck Stop and bought a load of groceries. Here we could have purchased showers for $5.00, but we were eager to press on. After a long succession of phone calls Jenny talked with Levi Long, the "Hiker Helper" in Bastion, who advertises his shuttle service in the Handbook. Our current itinerary had us landing in Pearisburg during the 4th of July weekend. so we wanted to shuttle ahead to reach the Post Office before the holiday, as we were expecting some important papers to sign, and also we wanted to collect and send-ahead our running resupply parcels. Levi agreed to meet us at the trailhead above his town early Saturday morning.

Walking away from the telephone we suddenly realized we would have to hike hard to meet the rendezvous. The time was 4:00 pm, Thursday, July 1 and we had forty-five miles to go. One shortcoming with the Data Book is that it does not list elevations. We had no idea of the ensuing terrain, and in retrospect we were being wholly optimistic. The ensuing hiking proved strenuous and slow-paced. Darkness fell, and we pressed on with the feeble light of our small flashlight with its fading battery. We climbed a long, steep mountain, and then stumbled down its far side where the trail was steep and rocky. The going was extremely slow. Farther along we passed through a pasture where a group of cattle bestirred themselves at our approach. We sang to them to avoid distressing them, and they moved aside and let us pass. Again, we are surprised how docile eastern cattle are.

At one of the road crossings was a community picnic pavilion. We were unsure of our location. The Data Book and the Handbook did not list all the roads and all the features. One of the trail signs now indicated we were three or four miles short of where we thought we might be, and this came as a major blow. The night time hiking had been strenuous, and apparently our pace had been far slower than we had imagined. It was now apparent we were not going to make our rendezvous with Levi. It was a good lesson in over-confidence.

We plodded up the next mountain in the interminable series, and at 1:00 am, on the very last of our flashlight battery, we stopped and pitched the tent on a wide spot on the trail. The night time hiking had not been without its rewards: the night was cool, although if we hiked too hard the humidity had caused our eye glasses to fog. The pestiferous flying insects were largely absent, and the fireflies were roving cheerily about. Moreover, a nearly full moon managed to find its way through the canopy, adding some wonderful luminosity to the scene.

Day's mileage: 32.8

Day 25, July 2

After a decidedly hyphenated rest we set off at 5:46 am, only to discover a while later that we had left an apple back at camp in the darkness. About two-tenths of a mile farther we were surprised to encounter the Knot Maul Branch Shelter Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out . This was good news indeed, for it meant that we were not behind schedule after all. In the faint dawn light the shelter appeared empty, so I approached to sign the register, only to wake a lone hiker. We exchanged pleasantries, and I chided him, "sleeping in late today, huh?"

Eventually we came to the "spring-fed pond" which emanated a preponderance of loud and strange groaning noises. It was obviously home to a number of large frogs, which did not show themselves. Several fish (up to 6") were gathering about the shallows, and curiously they did not flee when I approached. Rather, they drew closer, as though hoping to be fed. Just then I happened to notice a wood tick on my bare leg. I threw it into the pond, and in a flash a fish snatched it. If these fish were not hoping I would feed them, then perhaps they were hoping I would step into the water, for at the next shelter register a hiker had indicated he had tried to swim in the pond, only to be bitten by the fish. Jenny tendered a theory that seemed plausible: when an animal comes to drink the fish might be able to snatch some of the flies swarming around it.

We collected water from a dribbling pipe, then hastened on in an attempt to rid ourselves of the usual plague of flies and black flies. Soon we stopped at the Chestnut Knob Shelter Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out . This featured four walls and a door (of all tings), and its interior provided a cool, shaded, and essentially bug-free haven for the weary. A hiker had recently written of having endured a tremendous storm here. The shelter stood exposed on the hilltop, and one could imagine its tin roof slapping cacophonously in the gusts that whistled through the chinks in its walls, altogether making a storm seem far more serious than it was. Alas, yet another disadvantage of shelter sleeping; and to complicate matters this shelter stood remarkably exposed to the elements. But what a setting!

We collected water from a pipe stream, one-tenth mile to the right along the road through Walker Gap. The trail followed a ridge line for about four and a half miles, where the going was somewhat intricate. We found a note written by a hiker who described meeting with a six-foot rattlesnake and having to wait forty-five minutes for it to leave the trail. Rain began falling heavily, and we hiked beneath umbrellas for an hour, reveling in the suddenly cool air. At one point Jenny wore two shirts and even a wind jacket. But all too soon the rain ceased and the temperature began climbing, prompting the shedding of extra garments. The trail was overgrown with bushes, and we pressed on into these for hours, sodden. We did not mind the wetness, for it provided a measure of coolness. However, our feet had been wet for so long, mainly from sweating, that they were becoming tender.

On the slopes of Garden Mountain the trail was extremely brushy, and this brush contained a perplexity of thorns. The going was extra slow. Eventually the trail descended into much more open understory, and entered a beautiful area of sparsely spaced and large trees. We reached Jenkins Shelter, and stopped for a rest and to dry our feet. Then we set off again at 6:00 pm. Brushy Mountain was littered in blow-downs, and here we discovered another advantage of our small packs, as evidenced by the many trails leading steeply up the slopes and around the fallen trees. The hikers carrying large packs had been unable to crawl under and over the big limbs and trunks.

The trail from the crest led gently downward, and then for a few miles along Little Wolf Creek while crossing it dozens of times. Then it crossed Laurel Creek via a footbridge. Here the Data Book and Handbook were vague and inaccurate, and left us debating our location. Our DR did not agree with where the books suggested we might be. After we had carried on another hour, though, we deduced our position based on our DR.

At 9:40 pm we stopped and pitched the tent on a wide space on the trail. This campsite we called the "Midnight Surprise" based on events soon to follow. The scant cloud cover appeared reasonably benign, so in the interest of maximum ventilation we did not fit the tent's fly. Around midnight we woke to the first few dollops of rain drumming the tent, and with that characteristic background loud hiss that warns of imminent deluge. Jenny rushed outside and began fitting the fly while I organized things inside. Much to our chagrin, though, the rain suddenly fell in torrents. We had never witnessed such a sudden and vigorous cloud burst. With the tent uncovered of its fly, rain poured through its ceiling and walls. Within moments water was running beneath the sleeping quilt and beneath me in icy rivulets. Water was also streaming in through the netting doorway, soaking practically our every possession. Having fitted the fly, Jenny crawled back inside looking like a drowned rat - or so I assumed, for the night was pitch dark. I continued mopping our living quarters with a hand towel. The sleeping quilt was soaked, but even so it provided ample warmth. In a freezing climate we might have found ourselves in dire straits, but the night was not frigid and we soon fell comfortably back to sleep.

Day's mileage: 28.5

Day 26, July 3

We set off at 5:40 am and followed the trail as it traversed the slopes. Here the route was borrowed from a series of old, gently graded roads cut into the steep slopes, which this morning afforded fine views into the fog-bound world below. Three and a half miles into our morning we reached a gravel road, which the trail would follow half a mile to US 21 and 52. As we walked this road, along came a truck sporting a rather large AT trail sign for a hood ornament, and a license plate that read "HIKER AT." The driver was obviously quite an AT fan. Of course, it was Levi and he had come to meet us. We thought this was phenomenally good service, but he later told us that he regularly patrols the area for hikers, In fact, he said, he had looked for us the previous night at the VA 615 Laurel Creek Trail crossing.

We continued fast-walking to the highway 52 Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out , where we then climbed into Levi's vehicle. The time was 7:00 am and somehow we had, indeed, met our appointment on time. Levi drove us first to his hostel in Bastion, and gave us a chance to freshen up. We sponge-bathed from the bunk house's kitchen sink, then spread our wet things to dry.

Back on the road, Levi drove us to Pearisburg. Levi calls himself a "mountain man," and claimed to be one of the few remaining. He played fiddle in a renowned group of local musicians, "one of the best in the business," according to the Handbook. Since Jenny and I had begun hiking the AT we had regularly asked the locals to identify the trees for us. To our surprise, we had not met anyone who could. By far the best answer we received was "They're mixed hardwoods." But Levi knew them all, and was able to expound upon each one at length.

We reached Pearisburg in about an hour's drive. There we bought supplies at a gas station mini-mart, collected our mail and important papers at the post office, and went outside for sorting. We mailed one box of unneeded things home, and one large "running resupply" box ahead to Harper's Ferry. (Note, the reason for the trip to Pearisburg was to receive and sign some important papers that could not wait for our return to Oregon.)

On the return trip to the trail, we stopped at a roadside fruit stand. To the weary AT hiker craving fresh fruit, this place was a bonanza. As Jenny inspected the strawberries, the owner admonished, "Don't take any bad ones, and make sure your basket is full." And later his salutation was, "You come back and see us." We are not accustomed to such politeness out west.

Back at the hostel we paid Levi for the ride and he accepted the money gratefully. Jenny washed a round of socks in the sink, while I spread our wet gear in the decidedly hot sun. "The day is going to be ugly hot," Levi warned. His description made me sweat simply thinking about it; and in fact, we thought the weather had been "ugly hot" the past couple of weeks. Levi's wife, Jan, had been awaiting our return and was now cooking a tasty breakfast of sausage and eggs, with a second serving of toast, jam and milk, plus two fresh oranges and four more for the trail. We considered all this food a bargain at $8.50. After loading our packs with a ponderous supply of food, despite the next store being only 18 miles distant, we hopped into Levi's vehicle for the ride back to our footprints. Saying fond and heartfelt farewells, we bid Levi adieu and resumed our trek.

After walking half a mile down the paved road and across a bridge over a busy highway, we soon re-entered the woods. Here I had a sudden change of heart. We hauled off the trail in a shaded area Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out near a creek, and called it quits for the day. The time was 1:10 pm, and we were taking our second rest of the trip. We had been pushing extra hard the past several days, and both of us were feeling the need for a respite.

Day's mileage: 4

Note: according to the 1993 Thru-Hiker's Handbook, 217 feet average elevation gain per mile. 217 feet x 30 miles = approx 6,500 feet per day.

That afternoon another rain shower caught us off guard. It approached sounding like an attacking army crashing through the woods, and we rushed about, securing the fly and our goods. When it hit, Jenny was crouched beneath the awning, holding it out. Unfortunately, though, we had left a tab of ground sheet protruding from beneath the tent, and this collected a considerable amount of water and puddled it beneath the tent floor. Fortunately, the floor was waterproof, so no harm done.

Day 27, July 4

We set off at 6:00 am, and after a bit of gentle climbing, ambled along an easy trail for some miles. The morning was not as cool, indicating that the day would be hot. We passed a couple of shelters, and as usual with the ones distant from the trail we did not stop to visit them in order to sign trail registers. While approaching the road at Lickskillet Hollow we found ripe blackberries. They were delicious.

For the next several miles the blazes were wholly inadequate. While trying to determine whether to turn left or right at Lickskillet Hollow ( VA 608 Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out ), we found a seeping creeklet. We collected water using our Frosted Flakes scoop, and carried the bag a couple of miles further, looking for a shaded and poison ivy free rest stop. We were following occasional and very old blazes along gravel roads. At one point we encountered a farmer's truck and large trailer blocking the road, and a couple of fellows standing in the yard fronting a house. As we walked around the vehicle, one fellow bantered, "toll bridge."

The AT led faintly out into a field, then detoured back to the creek where we rested in the shade of a tree, at last. Then it followed the road a ways, exposed to the sun, and the temperatures were oven-like. We felt like we were being baked alive.

We dearly wanted to indulge in a swim, but the water looked extremely polluted and slow moving. Wading, stirred billows of muck. So after settling for a sponge bath we dried the tent and fly in the hot sun, then set off again, climbing the next mountain. The steep trail reached the summit and began descending the far slope, and we enjoyed easy hiking for several miles. In contrast to the beginning of the hike when we were suffering from the humidity and biting black flies, we were now hiking more relaxed and with more enjoyment. The humidity was still severe, and the days were hot, but by now we had acclimatized a great deal, and this has made all the difference.

We crossed Kimberling Creek Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out on a large suspension bridge (one could have almost rock-hopped the creek a ways upstream). Here we noticed cherries littering the ground. Looking up, we saw batches of them dangling perhaps 50 or 60 feet overhead. The cherry tree was apparently competing with the others for sunlight.

the AT followed VA 606 a ways, then detoured back down to the creek at a place where the water was moving faster. Despite the water's heavy pollution we desperately needed a bath, so we went in and gleefully scrubbed ourselves. Feeling greatly refreshed, we resumed road walking and reached Trent's Grocery Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out . After buying sandwiches and supplies we sat at an inside table, enjoying a wonderfully air conditioned picnic.

Returning to where we had left the trail, we followed its gentle grade for several miles. We collected water at the last opportunity past the Wapiti Shelter, then made camp near the summit at 9:00 pm. Thunder rumbling in the distance suggested we fit the rain fly, and this we did, although the rain did not eventuate.

Day'sDay's mileage: 26.8

Day 28, July 5

We set off at 5:52 am, and after several hours of weed wallowing we visited Doc's Knob Shelter and collected water. The day was warm and we feared the afternoon would grow intolerably hot. The trail led along the crest of Pearis Mountain, through weeds un-whacked, and then eventually passed through an area of interesting crags called "Angel's Rest". From there it descended into the town of Pearisburg. After walking through a few people's yards, where the government had obviously appropriated easements, and after passing some remarkably unkempt dwellings and some nicely tidy ones, the trail re-entered the woods for one final climb and descent. Plunging suddenly from the green tunnel we stepped onto the shoulder of U.S. 460 Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out , adjacent the Shumate Bridge.

Dodging vehicles, we traipsed across the busy four-lane highway, and with the utmost in reluctance (because of the dreadful heat) I put my shirt on; and we entered the refreshingly cool Wade's Grocery. It seemed the Garden of Eden. In forty five minutes of shopping we amassed six bags, bulging with $45 worth of groceries. Admittedly, the quantity seemed a bit much, considering we had only two and a half days to the next store. While we were in the store a tremendous cloud burst sent rain coursing across the parking lot in puddles a few inches deep. Lightning was everywhere. One blast knocked out the store's electricity, but within moments its generators came on. Back outside we stood under the eaves, sorting our provisions while eating a huge picnic lunch. We surely ate enough for six people; one delicious deli entré after another.

Beneath umbrellas we braved the downpour, leaving the store one an a half hours after we had arrived. We crossed the bridge over the New River and re-entered the woods across from a large concrete products plant. Rain continued to fall heavily as we followed the trail through jungle-like terrain. We were thankful for this turn in the weather, for it had mitigated the oven-like temperatures. Reaching a nice creek, we stopped for a long-overdue bath, ignoring the dollops of rain and crouching low with the passing of the occasional car. Continuing on, we resumed gorging ourselves, half in an attempt to lighten our prodigious loads, and half to satiate our even more prodigious appetites. The trail eventually led up to the crest, a brushy environment similar to the one we had left on the opposite acclivity of Angel's Rest. Here, though, we encountered more blackberry brambles. Hiking through these thorny vines reaching across the trail was like being whipped by the cat-o-nine tails. My arms and legs became striped in welts, while Jenny somehow avoided the worst of them.

The trail crossed a beautiful, tree-less rise where the panoramas extended into West Virginia. We could see that perhaps 40% of the erstwhile ubiquitous forest had been stripped, mostly for farming. Now stumbling along in near darkness, we finally found a not-too-grassy place to pitch the tent, and stopped hiking at 9:40 pm.

Day's mileage: 26.2

Day 29, July 6

We set off at 5:50 am in a well lighted morning, due to the lack of canopy. In a mile we passed by a pair of tents, the owners visibly asleep inside. The warmth of the morning portended another hot day. Perhaps the greatest danger of this hike, we figured, was heat exhaustion. Later we came to the junction with the Allegheny Trail. We had hiked untold miles of un-maintained AT, but at least it had received considerable foot traffic. The Allegheny Trail was heavily overgrown and looked little used.

The AT descended to Pine Swamp Branch Shelter, where we met two women section hikers. They said they had started at Springer many years ago, and were working their way North. "It's like the wind chill factor," one of them bantered. "I'm getting older and fatter every year, and the combination makes for less mileage as time goes on."

The trail dropped to a roadhead from where our route planners had gone to great lengths, apparently, to avoid private property. The trail climbed and descended steeply in several places where it could have traversed. Eventually we crossed Stony Creek Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out , and we enjoyed a refreshing dip before pressing on into the hot afternoon.

Near Salt Sulfur Turnpike we noticed a second "hidden" camera, obviously triggered by the breaking of an infrared beam pointing across the trail. We had the vague feeling Big Brother was watching, but I suspect they were only interested in a head count. Late afternoon we stopped for a bath at Laurel Creek. The heat of afternoon had become oppressive, so the cold water felt reviving. Now hiking at night, we passed by a pond, as indicated by the strange croaking of what must have been hundreds of frogs, one variety of which had the voice of a hoarse cow. We stopped at 10.05 under a tree on the edge of a grassy meadow, beneath a few stars.

Day's mileage: 25.8

Day 30, July 7

We set off at 5:50 am, traipsing through wet grass, and before long stopped to admire the magnificent Keffer Oak Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out . said to measure some 18 feet in circumference, this tree is monolithic. It boggles the imagination to think that such trees were common prior to the arrival of the settlers, and this is the only one left standing, at least around here.

Climbing over the next stile we stopped to pick delicious cherries, in abundance in the branches overhead. How we regretted lacking the time to linger and pick more. The early morning was warm, so we knew we were in for a long day of sweating. As usual, the trail was relentless in its climbing and descending. It followed the sinking Creek Mountain ridge, across open rock slabs that were exposed to the brunt of the sun. In the absence of wind, the heat was intense. And because of the high humidity, our sweat was unable to do its job of ridding the body's excess heat of metabolism. The backs of our necks became hot to the touch; same with our and shoulders and legs.

One consolation, though, were the ripe raspberries all along the way. Then near the Niday Shelter we enjoyed a reviving bath in a little creek. Because of the heat, humidity, and lack of wind, these creeks seemed to be our means of survival. Descending to Craig Creek Valley, we deposited our trash in a litter bin, then indulged in another revitalizing soak in its creek Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out . Although the water smelled faintly of cow manure, this was one of the best swimming creeks of the trek, so far.

The trail climbed quite a ways up the next mountain and then followed an old road past the Audie Murphy Monument Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out . The road was largely shadeless, so it provided an ideal environment for brambles of raspberry, blackberry, and boysenberry. The boysenberries were our favorite, and even though they were hot to the touch they tasted delicious. We had passed scores of apple trees, and here we passed two peach trees, but the season was yet early for these. Hikers passing through a month or two later would be in for a treat.

The trail descended to Trout Creek Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out , and feeling parched and dehydrated again we went straight into the water and lay in it like walruses. This creek was even better than Craig Creek for swimming.

The trail led to a high ridge on Cove Mountain and followed the ridge southward. Curiously at one point, the trail descended sharply to a large tree, only to climb back to the ridge. Along the way we found succulent berries hanging from the branches of another tree. They tasted delicious and we guessed they might be service berries. The route worked along a blocky ridge - still heading southward - then it left the ridge Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out , descended circuitously a few hundred feet through the rocks (while elsewhere on the mountain there were none), then traversed back northward for half to three-quarters of a mile. Back at the saddle we had met a group of Boy Scouts, the only hikers met that day. After passing through their "trail camp," we continued with the descent, lumbering down a few more rocks. Funny how those rocks kept getting in the way, or rather, how the trail planners kept seeking them out.

With the last shard of daylight we reached VA 624 Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out , and walked four-tenths of a mile to the Catawba Grocery. Approaching the grocery we greeted a woman about to get into her car. She proved to be the proprietor, and to our amazement she offered to re-open the store on our behalf, this at 9:30. Considering all the stores along the way, one might imagine we would not be hungry, but this was not the case. We had run out of food several hours ago, and were deeply famished. We went in and quickly selected $20.00 worth of food. The woman invited us to camp nearby, and drove away into the night. We sat on on a log, down by an adjacent pond, gorging ourselves. Then after a hasty sponge bath from a faucet we pitched the tent at the far end of the pond and fell asleep with the croaking of frogs and rumbling of the occasional passing car.

Day's mileage: 27.2

Day 31, July 8

We set off at 5:15 am, hoping to reach a motel at US 220, 26.5 miles distant, by evening. We rejoined the trail and passed a sign warning hikers of hunters, and giving the seasons for various species. The idea of squirrel hunting struck us as odd, and we made a great deal of fun about the squirrel hunters and their stuffed squirrel heads hanging on their walls. By the ripe hour of seven am, we were sweating heavily. Clearly the day was going to be a scorcher. Back at the Catawba Market the woman had told us that yesterday's high was 95 degrees F. We were thankful, though, that today was a little breezy. There were four factors that seemed to determine the heat discomfort index: the temperature, the humidity, the amount of shade, and the amount of breeze. The slightest waft of air brought unspeakable relief.

We reached a popular trailhead that provides hiker access to McAfee Knob, which the Handbook describes as one of the best views on the AT. At one point Jenny saw a house cat crouched at the base of a tree and staring at us intently. It sat perfectly still and then suddenly bolted into the forest with a speed and agility that suggested it was feral. What struck us as odd, was how healthy it appeared, as though not merely surviving, but thriving.

The view from McAfee knob Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out was indeed grand. However, we could not linger to enjoy it, for we could not bear the brunt of the direct sunlight. After snapping a photo we moved back into the welcome shade of the forest. The trail followed the edge a ways, sometimes far too close for safety, it seemed. A stumble in the wrong place could result in a forty foot fall. We descended to Campbell Shelter and met a hiker named Dan McCracken, aka "Wild Man". While Jenny went to collect water I talked with the fellow. He was the first hiker we'd seen in many miles, and we were the first he had seen on his whole trip. His friends had recommended this section as one of the AT's more scenic, and assured him that he would meet many friendly hikers. Indeed, this was a pretty section, mainly as the understory was not oppressive. We explained to Wild Man that by happenstance we were in a wide gap between thru-hikers, the gap being about a week wide. We knew of about three dozen behind us, and reckoned there were perhaps 150 ahead of us. (Curiously, some of those ahead had started in January.) Wild Man had planned to stay out for a week, but understandably the heat had changed his mind.

In the hut was an empty cookie box, compliments of Leonard Atkins "The Habitual Hiker" and his wife Laurie "The Umbrella Lady." We left them a note.

We stopped at the next shelter and collected water. This Lamberts Meadow Shelter was old and ramshackle, and by nature of its construction it seemed a perfect haven for rodents, snakes, and insects. A note on the wall warned of copperheads, but the mosquitoes and no-see-ums had the final say. They drove us out of there.

On two occasions we encountered a bear. The first one ran off, affording us only a glimpse of it. The second one came ambling across the trail without noticing us, perhaps sixty feet away. It stopped on the trail and stared at us for a few moments before trotting away, down the hill. Until now I had thought we were seeing yearlings, but after having a good look at this one, I think the eastern bear is much smaller than the western.

Typically we see wild turkeys, at least two or three a day. They fly away in a flurry of commotion, thwacking the brush, leaves and branches with their great wings as though clearing a hole to the empty sky. Also, we see a great many deer, mostly individuals; and grouse in covies of a few to a dozen birds. The most prevalent wildlife, though, are the flying insects which prey upon our flesh. However, it is the song birds that are perhaps the forest's finest aspect. They are our constant companions and we revel in their cheery moods. One bird is black with white and orange and has a very distinguished call that we mimic: "Hi-ker, hee-hee-hee-hee." In jest, I think of it as the mocking bird.

We pressed on throughout the afternoon at a determined clip. Wild Man had told us of a significant short cut, but we had determined to follow the white blazes the whole way. So off we went galumphing in a great arc that eventuated in a long (alas) southerly run along Tinker Ridge Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out . Finally the trail descended toward the noise of the civilization we had been hearing all afternoon. And at 7:30 pm we popped out of the woods at VA 220 Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out and found ourselves facing a tantalizing variety of motels and eateries. So much for the wilderness quest; we checked into the Best Western at $36 for the night. The room was air conditioned and therefore supremely luxurious. And the showers felt luxurious, with clean water flowing over one's grimy body. After using a washing machine, we proceeded to a steak and all-you-can-eat salad bar.

Day's mileage: 25.7

Day 32, July 9

After washing our packs (we had washed the sleeping quilt the night before) and washing another load of clothing, we went to breakfast at 6:30 am, and then to a convenience store for supplies. So it wasn't until 8:05 am that we finally departed town. The previous day's high temperature for the area was 97 degrees, and these record temperatures were expected to persist for several days. Of course the humidity was very high also. Our packs were heavy and so was our sweat. After hiking past uncountable ripe blackberries and raspberries we passed through a large, but long neglected apple orchard, and then under the Interstate. Eventually the trail came to a sign indicating that the new section of AT to Fullhardt Knob was not completed yet, and that we were to follow the old route along VA 652 Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out . Holding our parasols overhead, we hiked the steep and winding paved road in the brunt of the sun. The occasional motorist seemed to be participating in the Grande Prix. Dehydration was beginning to take its toll. My right leg was in disagreement, and this had started yesterday evening while pressing hard to reach town. Because of this I felt a strong urge to return to the motel for a day.

Nonetheless, we re-entered the woods and climbed to Fullhardt Knob Shelter where we collected some tinted water from its cistern. There we met members of the Konnorock Trail Crew. They hoped to finish with this section in another two weeks. The part we saw looked quite nice.

During a rest stop Jenny noticed a tick on her sock. Upon closer examination she found it had bitten through the sock and had begun gnawing into her foot. A gentle tug on the sock pulled the tick out. This is the first time I had seen a tick bite through clothing. The ticks hereabouts are like the ones we encountered in Northern Montana, in that they are not predisposed to wandering about one's body for a few hours before biting. They climb aboard and seemed to get right to business.

As usual on about any hike we've been on, ants are our ever-present company at the rest stops. For the past few days we've noticed that even these creatures are beleaguered by tiny, flying insects. We watched ants wandering about, each with a no-see-um hovering an inch above it, like a tennis ball at the end of a whip antenna. Once, I saw the no-see-um suddenly attack its prey. The ant went into a frenzy as though bitten. It was a pitiful sight.

The day was extremely hot, requiring all-to-frequent stops. At Curry Creek Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out we found a delightful dipping hole. As we settled into the water a number minnows scattered. Imagine our surprise, though, when the minnows closed back in and started nibbling at both of us, en masse. They were not trying to bite us, but seemed to be trying to clean us. If we would have had any ticks, they would have been removed straight-away. I have a small mole on my back, and I had to cover it with a finger to stop the incessant biting at it. We slapped a few mosquitoes and the fish devoured them in an instant. It was quite an eventful soak. Once out of the water the warm air dried us all too quickly and we began sweating again.

We climbed the hills at a very slow pace, wringing with sweat. And finally stopped hiking at 8:28 pm. Picking away one last tick we dove into the tent to escape the insects. Even without the fly, the tent was almost untenable. The heat was stifling.

Day's mileage 20.6

Day 33, July 10

We slept soaked in sweat until the wee hours cooled the night enough to encourage the pulling the quilt over us.

Rising with the alarm, we set off at 5:54 am and continued hiking the trail which more or less paralleled the Blue Ridge parkway Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out . The sky was thinly overcast in alto cirrus, showing the ripple patterns of a high pressure, all-too stable system. The morning was not as torrid as previously, and by 7:30 we were sweating only slightly, rather than profusely. We met a fellow hiker, perhaps in his 70's, who went by the trail name of "Stan the Man." Stan was spending the summer on and off the trail, and was presently hiking south from somewhere near Harper's Ferry.

For much of the way, thus far, we had been collecting much of our water from seeps. Many of these were far from the ideal water source, and we were very glad to be using our "Hiker's Friend" water filter. In many cases we collected the water using our little, plastic Kellogg's Frosted Flakes cup. Here, though, we descended to Jennings Creek and enjoyed a refreshing dip up to our ear lobes. Fifteen yards downstream, but hidden around the corner of the bridge, a fisherman stood soaking his lure. This was Multiple Use Natural Resources. Although the fish were not biting his lure, the minnows were biting us.

Pressing on, we passed a family of hikers, notable in that they were some of the only ones we had seen in quite a while. The day grew hot, despite a smattering of cloud and an all-too occasional breeze. Potable water sources were scarce in this section. After collecting water from a seep, much farther along we tried to collect water from Cornelius Creek near the shelter of the same name. But its water was silted with debris. My leg was becoming increasingly disagreeable, outside of the ankle both in front and behind. Jenny massaged the area as I lay on the foam pad with legs uphill while . Ten minutes later my leg worked almost like new. I considered this something of a breakthrough. Perhaps the pain is caused by muscles cramping and a resulting tenosynovitis. Surely the main cause is continued and severe dehydration.

While climbing Apple Orchard Mountain we came upon a newly constructed section of trail, and by and by, we happened upon a fellow hard at work. He was dragging a rock that appeared to weigh 200 pounds, using a come-along and a large pry bar. The black flies had been bothering us, but as long as we had kept moving, life was tolerable. When we stopped to talk to this fellow, though, we were swarmed. Because of the heat we were clad only in shorts and short sleeve shirts, and we wore no repellent because our sweat would have soon removed it. Under normal circumstances we would have moved on, but this fellow had some interesting comments. He was dressed in heavy work pants and smelled thickly of repellent. We stood there slapping furiously with our hand-towels. The fellow, Charles Nuske, was a member of the Natural Bridge AT Club, and said that he had battled with ATC mightily to build this section of trail using switchbacks. According to him, the ATC prefers the trail to take the fall line because it is easier and cheaper to build.

Pressing on, we climbed Apple Orchard Mountain Click on "trail segment"
select "terrain"
then zoom out and descended on this new section of trail, which a Konnorock Crew had built with series of rock steps sandwiched between boulders. The steps had required enormous effort to construct.

We stopped at the Thunder Hill Shelter Click on "trail segment"
select "terrain"
then zoom out and collected water from a nice spring, and as we filtered water and ate a snack, we sat talking with two teenagers from Lynchburg.

A few miles farther on, and now late in the evening, we met a couple who looked like they had just descended from Mt. Everest, but who reported they had only hiked up from the James River. They were dirty beyond measure and they looked exhausted, no doubt due mostly to the insufferable heat.

We descended to Petites Gap, then looking for a place to camp we continued another half a mile up the next rise. We stopped at 9:20 pm and pitched the tent on a relatively weedless and level area beside the trail.

Day's mileage 25.4

Day 34, July 11

We set off at 5:48 am. The morning was again very warm, and by the time we reached the James River Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out , the morning had grown fiercely hot. After crossing the bridge we enjoyed a long soak in Cashaw Creek, where once again minnows nibbled at our hides. The climb of Fullers Rocks was excruciating business, mainly because of a lack of wind. Along the way we met a south-bounder who called himself "Rhode Island Red," and said he had been hiking the AT piece-wise for a few years.

The view from the top was anti-climatic, due to the usual dense smog-haze that pervaded the distant landscapes. The trail climbed to the summit of Bluff Mountain Click on "trail segment"
select "terrain"
then zoom out , and a ways past Punchbowl Shelter, who did we meet again but "Rhode Island Red," again hiking south. This was curious. This time his brother was with him, and they both explained that they were hiking to a nearby shelter for the night, having left their car at the road. We enjoyed quite a pleasant conversation.

Little Irish Creek was a lovely area because of number of old growth trees. Reaching the Pedlar Dam Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out (Lynchburg Resevour), we climbed the left embankment and obtained water from a spigot. We filled our bottles for drinking, and the Hiker's Friend for a shower. Returning to the trail and following it a ways, we stopped for a most refreshing shower, using soap. From there we pressed on far into the night, searching for a place to camp while once again admiring a number of monolithic trees. We reached Pedlar Lake Road Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out (USFS 38), stopped hiking at 10:15 pm, and pitched the tent on a turnout.

Day's mileage: 27.4

Day 35, July 12

We set off at 5:46 am and were sweating heartily a mere half an hour later. The hike along Brown Mountain Creek Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out was very beautiful. The creek played through a number of rock pools, and here again a number of old and distinctive trees prevailed. We signed the register at the Brown Mountain Creek Shelter - quietly, so as not to wake a sleeping thru-hiker by the name of Flipper, as evidenced by his or her signature in the register.

While climbing Bald Knob we passed by a troop of Boy Scouts who seemed to be enjoying themselves. The trail then climbed to Cold Mountain Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out , an expansive bald where the sun beat fiercely down. A cool wind mitigated the heat, though, but the sun began scorching our hides. The Handbook reports that the Forest Service mows these balds regularly to preserve the views. Even though the effect was unnatural, we enjoyed the views.

All day we hiked without finding trailside water. The sources mentioned in the Data Book were dry or silted. Mid-afternoon we reached Twin Springs Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out , and this, at last, was a beautiful source of pure and cold water.

While climbing to Spy Rock, there came that characteristic buzzing fifteen feet ahead. After taking a few steps back we stopped and studied the bushes awhile, and finally caught sight of a snake's head and neck protruding from the bushes, out onto the trail. The source of the rattling and the visible head were surprisingly far apart. This was a big snake. In fact, it was perhaps five or more feet in length, and three inches in diameter. It was one of the biggest snakes I'd seen. We were eager to keep moving, so could only hope it would shy away from hikers.

While climbing Priest Mountain Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out we met Darcie and Bill Martin, out for an afternoon's hike from Waynesboro, VA. We accompanied them for perhaps a mile, and eventually they grew impatient of our slow pace and pressed ahead. Apparently they soon left the trail, for we saw no more of them. Noting an interesting wood carving at one of the campsites at the summit, we then began the long descent to the Tye River. Partway down we met "Two Feet," a fellow hiking the AT in three years segments, and hoping to finish on his 65th birthday next year. He was a very amicable and interesting fellow and we wished we had more time to talk with him. He said he had met three different townspeople that said they like hikers but despise the AT Conference for its greedy land acquisitions. Apparently, a tremendous amount of private land has been confiscated on behalf of this trail, and a great many locals were understandably upset.

We reached VA 56 and the Tye River Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out at dark, and at 9:05 pm stopped hiking and enjoyed a refreshing and soothing bath in the river. Close by, we pitched the tent.

Day's mileage: 28.7

Day 36, July 13

We set off at 5:30 am and paced down the road 1.4 miles to the store in Tyro. Inside, Bobby Campbell welcomed us and asked how we liked his sign out front. It read: "WELCOME AT HIKERS." We told him we liked it very much. We bought a selection of food, and sat on the front porch eating and resting. Locals stopped on their way to work, and Bobby, who was born and raised in the area, talked with them in an interesting local dialect that seemed almost foreign. The people reminded us of what hillbillies must have been like, with long, shaggy beards and old clothing. Yet they were friendly, and none treated us with the slightest disdain. Of all the things we liked about the Appalachias, we liked the people the most.

We hiked back up the road, rejoined the AT, and crossed another of those enormous suspension bridges. The trail led up, then diagonaled down to a shelter, then up again. By and by, a pair of hikers came down the trail yelling for Robert. They were leaders of a youth group, and Robert was one of their youths. Or at least he had been, for he had gone missing. The next few miles we hiked amid the search party, with calls of "Robert!" echoing from ahead and behind. Then at the next shelter the party was happily reunited. During the rescue mission, two boys about 13 or 14 years old, carrying frame packs, bedrolls, tent poles and so forth, had passed us and had gone lightfooting down the trail ahead of us, as though we were a couple of old ladies. Jenny asked me "why are we hiking so slow?" I had no answer, so we increased our pace somewhat. We had fallen into a rut unawares.

We collected water from an excellent pipe spring, the pipe being hermetically cemented into the hillside. Three thru-hikers had signed the register a few minutes ahead of us, "Waterwitch & Elvis" and "Rambling Man", but we did not meet them, for subsequently they must have left the trail to visit Randy's Place.

The day was again very hot, and after traversing an unmercifully open (ie. mowed) section we found relief in a shaded parking lot, where we lunched on sandwiches. From there the trail made a long, rather undignified traverse below the noisy highway. At one point it traversed beneath a stone embankment of the old Blue Ridge Parkway. To our delight we found that one of the drain pipes was spewing marvelously cool air. We sat before it for a few minutes, enjoying the natural air conditioner. The pipe must have been long and angled upward; the air inside was cooled by the earth, then it flowed down the pipe, being heavier than the warmer, ambient air. It was an unusual, if unintentional cooling device.

We followed the trail up to Cedar Cliffs Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out . There we found some breeze, and were delighted that sun had slipped behind a cloud. We sat to dump the gravel from our shoes, but the roasting heat of the rocks discouraged our lingering. The next section of trail over Humpback Mountain and Humpback Rocks Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out was not our favorite, but finally the trail straightened and led down along an ultra-compact pathway. But here we could not find a blaze. leaving our packs, I returned steeply uphill and Jenny proceeded down, looking for a blaze. From a distance, Jenny's yell signaled she had found one. Apparently in building this new section of trail, the crew had removed the trees bearing the blazes. I had a possible solution to such problems, and such problems we have encountered frequently. Why not put a black blaze on the wrong way. A lack of white blazes means nothing, but a black blaze would mean a great deal. One might have to stand perplexed, as many times as we had, to appreciate this idea.

From here we hiked one of the best sections of trail yet, being gently graded. Reaching Mill Creek Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out we enjoyed a delightful dip, scrubbing ourselves with hand towels, without soap, and letting the water absorb our bodies' overheat. The nearby Paul Wolfe Shelter was exemplary in its design and construction. It was the first one that we would have willingly stayed in. We filtered water and ate more sandwiches, then resumed the trek.

Now in darkness we followed a trail which contrasted with the previous miles. It climbed with unrelenting steepness, traversed a ways through dense jungle, climbed, followed a road diagonally downward, and climbed steeply again. Dragging ourselves to the summit and thrusting aside the low branches, we were taken aback to see a Winnibago not ten feet away. Evidently, we had reached the top of Elk Rock. The night was pitch dark, and on a nearby clearing we stopped hiking at 10:15 pm and pitched the tent quietly.

Day's mileage: 26.6

In the wee hours we were awakened to a sudden flurry of raindrops that prompted a Chinese fire drill, setting the fly. The shower was brief, though, and ended as quickly as it had begun.

Day 37, July 14

We set off at 5:16 am. The weather seemed inclement, but the rain held off. The trail descended and, as we had seen it do many times, it traversed a dangerous rocky brink. To my way of thinking such trail routing seemed negligent.

Reaching the last of the bushes and changing from hiking clothes into city clothes, we traipsed along the Blue Ridge Parkway Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out the short distance to the Howard Johnson's Restaurant at the appropriate hour of seven am: its opening time. After a filling breakfast we bought a few supplies at a nearby mini-mart before returning to the trail. After we had hiked nearly a mile we stopped and I wrote in this journal while Jenny bounded down a spur trail to get our hiking permits for Shenandoah National Park. Returning fifteen minutes later, she told me of having met a woman thru-hiker by the name of Possum.

further on, at one point Jenny stopped and said, "There is a copperhead behind us on the trail." We had both stepped over it. I had not seen it. Jenny had noticed it, but only as she was stepping over it. It was only a little tyke, twelve to fourteen inches in length, but it was equally aggressive as its larger kin. It struck out repeatedly, maws agape. It was green and yellow, striped longitudinally, and shaped like a viper's fat body with the telling triangular head.

The trail led over Bear Den Mountain Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out , festooned in antennas, and then into the park; and it was not until reaching a spring miles later that we stopped for a much needed respite from the glaring sun.

Contrary to our highest expectations, the morning clouds dissipated. The trail paralleled Skyline Drive, and throughout the day how we questioned our having enslaved ourselves to the great white blaze. Walking the road would have been vastly easier. Not only did the trail climb and descend a great deal more, but apparently many, if not most, hikers were opting for the road - meaning that the trail was quite brushy in places for lack of trampling. and it was a day without water.

After a day of crossing the Skyline Drive, climbing the next hill, wallowing in brush, and descending to the road again ad infinitum, we passed the turnoff to the Blackrock Shelter and continued a few miles to the Dundo Picnic Area Click on "trail segment"
select "terrain"
then zoom out . The place was deserted, so at a drinking fountain we stripped and, ignoring a light rain, filled our water bottles and poured the contents over ourselves while lathering on the soap. We had not been long re-dressed when a car drove slowly past, its three women occupants gawking at us incredulously. Never mind the publicity, one cannot describe the wonderful feeling of the chilly splashes embellished with a small bar of soap after a long, hot and sweaty day. A few deer approached as though hoping we might toss them food. Close enough for us to notice that the bugs were bothering them far worse than they were us. When hiking, we used our hand towels and swatted at them almost continuously.

Pressing on, we hiked until dusk. Now on a seldom used section of AT, which climbed above the road only to descend to it, we stopped at 9:05 pm and prepared a tent site in a moderately heavy patch of brush, free of poison ivy. In the late afternoon I had experienced a persistent leg cramp, so at the water fountain we had both drunk huge quantities of water. The cramp vanished and we each had to get up twice in the night to pee. Doing so was not without reward, though, for we discovered fascinating luminescent things on the ground. I imagined they might have been a type of fungus.

Day's mileage: 27.6

Day 38, July 15

We set off at 5:32 am, seventeen minutes after our alarm had sounded. The morning sky was laden in high cloud, which gave promise of a cooler day. We hiked past Loft Mountain Campground and a sign Click on "trail segment"
select "terrain"
then zoom out that read "Camp Store 100 yards," and in fact we could see the building. But the Handbook indicated the store didn't open until nine am. We were very low on food, but we were more in the mood for miles than meals. As we had done en route to Tyro, we would soon be running on empty, traveling light and fast.

The trail dropped to Ivy Creek, and as its designers had intended, we enjoyed seeing and especially listening to the running water, an uncommon entity in this section of the hike. Usually, when the trail drops low to water, it then climbs back to the crest, which is what exactly it did next. The deer here in the park may start away at our intrusion, but usually they do not wander out of sight. Most often they stand and watch us awhile. We reveled in their company. The wild turkeys and other animals were as afraid of us, here as anywhere else. Through much of Virginia, bobcat are said to be common, and we had seen their tracks frequently.

The day was indeed much cooler. A light rain fell sporadically, and a cool breeze often helped mitigate our incessant sweating. The trail was not as ruthless here in the park, so lured by the ever-more-possible prospect of reaching the next store before its closing time, we hiked energetically and took few rests. We stopped at a spring, half a mile past Hightop Hut Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out , and collected water. This water proved to be stagnant though, so we drank only three quarts of it.

While hiking along I suddenly happened on a small snake on the trail, lying coiled in the rest position. I was glad that my reflexes stopped me. The snake's body looked like a dangerous species. It was beamy for its length and muscular, unlike the garter snakes, etc. But it's head was most assuredly not that of a pit viper. It remained perfectly still as we studied it close at hand, perhaps hoping we wouldn't notice it. Without disturbing it we stepped around it and continued on.

The blackflys were numerous and vicious today, and for awhile I wore my netting jacket. This covered my head, hands, arms and torso. the garment is black in color, and I keep it tucked into my black lycra shorts. I must have made quite an unusual sight, and at one point we discovered just how unusual when a group of college kids, mostly girls, passed us going the other way. My outfit sent them into shrieks. However, I imagined the next time they were swarmed by black flies they might remember my netting jacket.

Hiking at our fastest pace through the afternoon, we left the trail half a mile past the first visible campsites of the Lewis Mountain Campground. From there we followed a short trail to the picnic area, and gulped huge quantities of water at a drinking fountain. Then we walked to the camp store Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out , arriving at 6:45 pm. We had come 29 miles. We bought two sacks of groceries, then sat outside gorging ourselves. For the record, we each consumed a can of Spaghetti with meatballs, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, each, a cup of yogurt each, a sack of cookies, a quart of milk, a pint of chocolate milk, a soda, and a large bag of Chee-Tos.

The store's proprietor treated us very well. He said he sympathizes with the hikers, and will often open the store if they arrive late. As we were buying our groceries he remarked, " A loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter are nothing to a hungry hiker." We could certainly agree with that. the groceries were some of the most expensive we had encountered, but this was understandable due to the region's remoteness.

After dinner we put a load of dirty clothes in the washing machine, along with my empty backpack, then we each enjoyed a shower. I had found a large Swiss Army knife on the trail today, and here in the shower room I found another one. They were both dead weight as far as I was concerned, and I kept neither.

Feeling clean, refreshed, and smelling like perfume from the soap and shampoo, we walked back to the picnic area and rejoined the AT at 8:30 pm, where we had left it. After passing the turn-off to Bearfence Mountain Hut, we climbed the ensuing mountain. Near its summit we marveled at the occasional view of a bright red sunset peeking through the trees. On the mountain's western flanks we stopped hiking at 9:20 pm and pitched the tent directly on the trail for want of a better place.

Day's mileage: 31.8

The high mileage today was largely a result of the cool weather and the not-so-abrupt trail routing.

Jenny's favorite time of day is when she is finally bedded down. Mine is when we achieve 30 miles. Unfortunately, I get fewer favorites than she. Nevertheless, it is a tradition with us that I always sing her a little bed-time lullaby. The words and their emphasis are always a little different, but the gist goes something like this:

"It's her favorite time of day,
When she puts her pack away,
And lays her little head down ... in the dirt.
Oh, . It's . her . favorite . time .. of .... DAY!!!"

Of course, the finale is designed to be anything but soothing. And it never fails to elicit a few chuckles.

Day 39, July 16

We set off at 5:35 am into a chilly morning, and hiked with our wind jackets and our hands in the pockets. The sky was clear all around and we feared this portended yet another day of heat. but as the hours wore on, the morning remained surprisingly cool. The humidity had dropped, and this was our first relief from it since the trek's beginning. Many times in the past weeks we had heard the words "record high temperatures". Apparently yesterday's storm had brought with it a much cooler and dryer mass of air.

We left the trail at 8:30 am and hiked a tenth of mile up the hill to Big Meadows Lodge Click on "trail segment"
select "terrain"
then zoom out . Donning our city-going clothes, we went inside and enjoyed a couple of breakfasts each. We had not heard of Virginia cured ham, but after we left the restaurant we will not forget it. On a prioritized list of ingredients, the salt might not occur before the ham, we figured, but it would be a close second.

Back in our trail attire we resumed following the AT, once again reveling in the day's cool temperatures. Even though the sun shone brightly, and though the trail traversed various open areas, for once we did not suffer in the heat. We stopped at the Skyland Stables Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out (South Service Road) for cold sodas from a machine, and were just settling down in the shade when a hoard of vicious black flies set hard upon us, forcing us to press on. No doubt they were engendered by the nearby livestock.

The next nine miles of trail were reputedly constructed by the CCC, and it showed. The grades were gentle, and the route had obviously been surveyed. Much of the track consisted of stone work, laid at what must have been considerable effort. Throughout most of this section, though, the trail was rocky and I was worried about my shoes, as they were nearing the end of their serviceable lives. The heal plug on the left shoe had disintegrated and the soles on both shoes had come unglued, midships. Also, they afforded but little cushioning.

Another factor that increased our enjoyment today was the insect repellent we now carried. We had long ago run out, but today we had bought a large can, finally, at the Lewis Mountain Camp Store. This had been the smallest size available, but under the circumstances we deemed it well worth its weight.

We reached the Panorama Restaurant at Thornton Gap Click on "trail segment"
select "terrain"
then zoom out , and after freshening in the restrooms we carried our packs into the restaurant, and stowed them unobtrusively under our chairs. We were half way through our All-You-Can-Eat salads when the waitress came to relate that the manager had ordered us to take our backpacks outside. The premises lacked a place outside where our packs could stand in view of our table, and we were not willing to toss fate to the four winds by placing them out of our sight, where they might be stolen. And our ploy of claiming they where not the usual big thru-hiking backpacks, was not working, despite the fact that they easily fit under our table, out of sight, as it were. But after a few more worried trips between us and the manager, the waitress acquiesced and invited us to relax and enjoy our meal.

After leaving the waitress a generous tip for her troubles, and after buying a couple more food items from the store downstairs, we resumed the trek. But in retrospect, I regretted my having put the manager and waitress to the trouble. As usual I was learning good lessons. We should have not carried our packs inside, but ordered our meals to-go, and eaten them away from the restaurant. Live and learn, for the next time.

Once again we marveled in the cool weather, ironic because all through the day the sky remained cloudless. Granted, in those places where the trail led uphill in the sun, we sweated. But it was not that typically all-pervading, saturating, desperately miserable sweat. And it quickly dried whenever the trail leveled, which was often. As we trod along in good spirits, we saw perhaps three dozen deer at close range, and one bear. We stopped hiking at 9:20 pm and pitched the tent half on the trail.

Day's mileage: 30.0

Day 40, July 17

We set off at 5:41 am, and hiked a couple of miles to Elkwallow Gap Click on "trail segment"
select "terrain"
then zoom out . Regrettably we could not stop at the restaurant there because of the early hour. A few hundred yards on the other side of the road we encountered a mother wild turkey with an incredible 25 or 30 chicks. Mother scurried away leaving her chicks to follow as best they could. We always enjoyed seeing young birds and animals, and these young turkeys were some of the cutest creatures we had seen all summer. Also, today, as yesterday, we saw deer by the score, a few with antlers in velvet, and a few young ones.

After a morning of traversing rolling hills and crossing Skyline Drive repeatedly, we reached the Park's far boundary. Here the trail worsened dramatically, obviously where federal resources had run out. We stopped at Tom Floyd Wayside (Shelter), where two hikers greeted us with the words, "you're obviously not thru-hikers; you're too fresh and happy." In ten minutes they fairly demoralized us with tales of neophyte woes. The trail descended to US 522 Click on "trail segment"
select "terrain"
then zoom out where we met another hiker who was quitting the trail, after apparently not having been on it for long.

The trail led through a lot of open corridors adjacent a game preserve, and here the sun scorched our hides. The day became hot as the trail climbed through the densess jungle we had seen yet. Eventually we reached the "Hiker's Hilton" ( Jim and Molly Denton Shelter Click on "trail segment"
select "terrain"
then zoom out ) which surely would take all the awards. It is almost a residence, with a mowed lawn, shrubbery, landscape pavers, and a long list of amenities, topped by a shower. A pipe ran down hill, entered the shower stall from below, and filled a shower tank above. In turn, we stood in the stall, pulling on the chain valve and gasping in the cold but invigorating water.

In the ensuing mile the trail-side raspberries were no less than a phenomena. Each berry was large, succulent, and a beautiful raspberry-red color. they hung in clusters numbering in the thousands.

We left the trail at VA 638 Click on "trail segment"
select "terrain"
then zoom out and walked seven-tenths mile to the store in Linden Click on "trail segment"
select "terrain"
then zoom out . While we were picnicking outside, a car pulled up, a fellow stepped out and asked if we were thru-hikers. This was unusual because hardly anyone has so much as suspected we were thru-hikers, due to our small packs, our running shoes, and our comparatively clean city-type clothing. Todd Ingberg related that he had hiked the AT in 1984 under the trail name "PacMan." He was proud to have hiked a 36-mile day on four occasions. He had been a front runner among his year's pack. We are at the tail end of the present year's pack, where higher mileage days and high energy and enthusiasm are rare commodities. So meeting PacMan was a boost to our spirits. He drove us back to the trail where we had left it, then wished us well, offering that if we needed anything we should give him a call.

The area was replete with large estates, with big, ultra-expensive houses and status automobiles. Todd had explained that we were an hour's drive from Washington DC, and that a number of senators and important people lived in the vicinity. We pressed on, and soon found ourselves stumbling up the trail by flashlight. We stopped hiking near the Manassus Gap Shelter.

Day's mileage: 33.0

Day 41, July 18

We set off at 5:30 am and hiked to Ashby Gap Click on "trail segment"
select "terrain"
then zoom out , where we had hoped to eat breakfast at papa Nick's Restaurant. Unfortunately, the restaurant had closed, so we ate sandwiches for breakfast. The morning was not as cool as the previous ones, but a layer of cirrus blocked the sun for most of it. We passed through some areas of very nice terrain where the understory was not so overwhelming and the slope not so steep. In many places along the way, during the past week if not more, we've passed through areas once homesteaded but long since abandoned. The indications were the fruit trees and the occasional stone walls, and in some cases the hint of a roadway that had been cut into a hillside long ago.

We hiked until mid-afternoon without water until we reached a spring a mile past VA 605 Click on "trail segment"
select "terrain"
then zoom out . The day being Sunday, we met a few day hikers. One couple was returning to their car carrying bags of freshly picked raspberries. Jenny began conjuring all sorts of home-made raspberry delicacies, as though she was the one returning to the nicely appointed kitchen with the berries. In addition to the raspberries, we were finding blackberries, blueberries, and huckleberries. We stopped frequently to browse among them.

We met a couple of slack-packing distance hikers from Washington state. "Oatman" was The Prospector type: "old and battered, gaunt and grey" and he hiked with his younger wife, "Cookie". [Bill and Susan?] We enjoyed talking with them for several minutes. The mid afternoon was quite hot, mainly as we hiked southwest facing slopes where the shade was sparse due to the gypsy moth infestation. We crossed a number of creeks, all of them polluted, and at one of them we enjoyed a soap-less bath. We crossed Snickers Gap Click on "trail segment"
select "terrain"
then zoom out , dodging high speed cars, and pressed on into the late afternoon. At our third sandwich stop for the day I napped for a few minutes. We stopped hiking at 9:30 pm and pitched the tent half off the trail in an area of otherwise dense vegetation peppered with poison ivy.

Day's mileage: 30.8