The road… err, trail… to Damascus

… err, trail… to Damascus**

I awoke the next morning at 8:30 to pouring rain. There had only been a 20% chance of showers predicted, so I set my alarm for 9 in the hopes that it would stop. No such luck. I kept doing this till noon, when the sun came out. Soon after setting off, I met Walking Home, who stopped for a minute. I asked him where he was walking home to, and he said “Mystic, Connecticut.” I said, “Oh, cool, I live in New Haven.” So we talked for a bit. Although he left before me, I hiked about 10 miles and then eventually caught up to him and Whistler, who only wanted to go as far as the next shelter. By the time we got there it started pouring, so I decided staying the night with them would be a wise idea. Rex was there already, on a section hike, and some kind souls had left an assortment of 6 sodas, along with some oranges and bananas. Talk about trail magic!

The next morning, I headed out at about 7:30 AM. Around noon, and after 4 miles, I paused to amend the blog entry I’d not sent yet, and posted it. Walking Home and Whistler intended to reach the shelter 18.9 miles from the last one, so I continued, hoping to catch up with them there. However, I had an offer of a stop at Sam’s Gap, to see someone from the boarding school I attended. I decided I would stop if I could call beforehand; I didn’t know if I wanted to just knock on the door of someone I hadn’t seen in 18 years. I did end up stopping, and was really glad I did. My friend Glenn had to go out of town the night I got there, so I had his cabin to myself that first night. I spent the evening reading out on the porch.

He got back the next morning, and we hung out for a bit, drinking coffee and talking. In the early afternoon, a chef who is opening an organic restaurant came over to buy some shiitake mushroom logs, so that he could grow some himself. I walked around with them while Glenn told him all about what is involved with farming mushrooms. I learned a lot! Later on, we went into Asheville, got something to eat, and picked up his son 10-year-old Taylor. His girlfriend came back to the cabin with her kids, and we hung out there a while. Later on, I went up to the house with Taylor to watch a movie, and he and I slept up there.

I left the following morning, and continued on towards Irwin, TN. I made it to the shelter at about 6 PM but found it pretty crowded, so I decided to keep going a couple more miles. Unfortunately, it started raining shortly afterwards. I kept thinking it that it might stop, but it didn’t, and in fact, the rain began to come down really hard. I set up my tent in the rain, getting myself soaked in the process, and eventually managed to go to sleep.

The weather returned to nice and sunny by the time I woke up, and I continued on into Erwin, arriving at Uncle Johnny’s Hostel at about 2 PM. I unpacked my stuff in the bunkhouse, and hung my soaking tent on a laundry line. A couple of times during the day, the deluge returned and then vanished, and it became sunny again. My tent ended up not drying until the next day. I took a shuttle into town (about 4 miles or so) at 6, where I got some surprisingly good Mexican food. I also made stops at the nearby Dollar General and a grocery store. When we came back, I hung out with a few other hikers, read a while, and finally went to sleep.

The next morning, I went in to town again for breakfast, and waited while others went to get beer and to the post office. We came back, and I packed up most of my stuff, but waited around for the all-you-can-eat pizza place that the shuttle went to for lunch. I’d thought there would be a bunch of people going, but it ended up just being me. Uncle Johnny dropped me off at 12:30 and said he’d be back at 2. I thought that would be a bit longer than I needed, but I had my Kindle. At 2:20, I figured they were just running a bit late. At 2:40, I began to be a bit concerned. At 3:00, I started asking directions back to the hostel. I guessed the walk back would take about 4 miles. I had left my phone back at the hostel, charging, but the pizza delivery girl offered to let me use their phone. I called and said, “I think you may have forgotten about me.” “Oh, I’m so sorry, we’ll have someone there right away!” Sure enough, someone came right away and got me. When I got back, all the other hikers had left, so I finished packing up and took off. I hiked about 10 miles or so until I found a campsite.

The next day, I decided to stop at the Greasy Creek Hostel, as they had “a well-stocked store” according to my book. It was supposedly .6 of a mile off the trail, and downhill on some old logging roads. By now, I needed to resupply my Aqua-Mira water treatment drops, because Uncle Johnny’s didn’t have any. Unfortunately, neither did this place. When I was almost there, a dog started barking at me, and I heard a voice saying, “Get ‘em, boy! Hiker trash!” Apparently, the neighbor despises both the hostel owner and hikers, and actually goes up into the woods to remove her signs, or even place new ones that say that the hostel is closed. The whole experience started to take a strange shape. It seemed like the woman really wanted me to stay, but instead I just had lunch and hung out with Nate and Lauren, a brother and sister whom I’d met at Uncle Johnny’s. They’d stayed the night before there, and planned to leave. We left together and hiked back to the trail. By the time we got back to the AT, it was getting late, so we stayed at the Clyde Smith shelter, about 2 miles away.

They left before me in the morning, and once I finished breakfast, I made my way downhill to a road, TN 1330. Upon arrival, I met a guy sitting in his truck, waiting for a hiker. It turned out the hiker he waited for was attempting to break the women’s record for a supported thru-hike: something like 47 days for the entire AT. She hiked about 48 miles that day! He gave me some water from a cooler and told me that the climb I was about to undertake up Roan Mountain was “definitely in the top 15 worst climbs on the entire Appalachian Trail”. Perhaps he believed his insight helped me prepare for the climb, but in fact, it just made me dread what lay before me. I really wish people didn’t feel it necessary to share their opinions on these things! Maybe after I do the climb we could talk about how awful it had been, but not before! Unfortunately, it didn’t matter what I heard: the climb was inevitable. It was 2,400 feet over less than 3 miles, with the sun beating down most of the way. I got to a parking area at the top, which had a bathroom. I found the bathrooms locked, but the water fountain worked perfectly, so I refilled my Camelbak hydration bladder and my water bottles. I ran into Nate and Lauren again there, and we found a plaque at the site of the Cloudtop Hotel, torn down around 1920. There was also a chimney for the caretaker’s house. We hiked to the Roan High Knob shelter. At 6,285 feet, this holds the title of the highest shelter on the AT. Nate and Lauren stayed there, but I decided to keep going, as it was only about 4PM when we got there. I made it another 4.8 miles to a campsite with a water source, right before the next shelter.

The following morning, I hiked past the Stan Murray shelter, and came to a sign for the Overmountain Shelter, a converted barn that sleeps about 20 people and came highly recommended for the beautiful view of the mountains. I didn’t go to it, as it was .6 miles off the trail round-trip. Besides, I didn’t plan to stop for the day since it was only noon. I saw it from the next hill, and got a couple of pretty good pictures. After about 7 miles, I met another hiker, Fireheel, who was trying to get to US Highway 19E by 5:00, seeking a hostel there that provides a free shuttle into town to a restaurant with 40 flavors of ice cream. We hiked together for a while, but I ended up getting ahead of him, and made it to the hostel just in time. It was a bed and breakfast, but there was a bunkroom for $20/night. I decided to stay in my tent that night, which only cost $8. We rode in the back of a pickup truck into Roan Mountain, TN, and I went to Subway rather than to the restaurant: a barbecue joint, and not very vegetarian friendly. I did end up getting not one, but two ice cream cones. They were unable to add two flavors to one cone for some reason, so that made a perfectly good excuse as far as I was concerned. I hung out with everybody at the hostel, and then stayed pretty late the following day, just reading and drinking the free coffee provided.

When I finally left, at probably about 1PM, I managed to hike almost 10 miles, finally stopping at a really nice campsite next to a stream. Along the way, I ran into a couple that had been at the hostel the night before, and I told them that I hoped the next hostel would have a store. By now, I was running dangerously low on Aqua-Mira drops, and began rationing water. It turned out that the hostel had stocked food items like oatmeal packets and soda, but nothing like Aqua-Mira. As it turned out, this couple was only hiking until the following morning, and they had a filter for their water, but had Aqua-Mira as a backup. They gave me the brand-new container, and said that they would surely get me to Damascus; I thanked them profusely, what they gave me would last me much farther than Damascus!

Problem solved! I’d stopped at three hostels in order to find this stuff to no avail, and a couple of kind souls ended up giving it to me for free. I don’t know why I’d even worried. This kind of stuff happens all the time out here; you worry about running out of something, and then find it in a shelter, or someone gives it to you. That night, I made a large cup of hot chocolate, just because I could!

The terrain eased up a bit the next day, so I ended up hiking 17 miles until I got to Dennis Cove road and the Kincora Hiking Hostel, where I expected to receive a mail drop containing food and other supplies. I arrived on a Saturday night, and the package wasn’t there, so I decided that I’d wait there until Monday. It cost only a “suggested donation” of $4 per night, with beds, laundry, showers, a kitchen, and a nice porch. They also give free rides into town every night to the IGA grocery store, also conveniently located next to a Little Caesar’s Pizza. I’d gotten there too late for the shuttle that first night, at about 7:30, so just sat around talking to other hikers. I did get some McDonald’s fries though! The second day, I knew there wouldn’t be any mail since it doesn’t run on Sunday, so I just hung out all day, and then had pizza that night!

On Monday, I thought for sure that my package would arrive, but it didn’t. Thinking that the post office was operating with its usual efficiency, I decided to wait one more day for it. I found Kincora a nice, relaxing place, with good people, and a really nice atmosphere. Plus, it had everything a hiker could possibly want. Nate and Lauren showed up, and we spent quite a while talking and hanging out.

On Tuesday, with no package delivered, I decided to call the post office and see if they could find my package. The tracking number I through the USPS offered only “tracking and delivery information was unavailable for the tracking number provided.” I called the local post office, and the guy there told me that the package had been delivered the day before: to Knoxville! Not only delivered, but signed for, along with a number of other packages, and apparently at a large business of some sort. He told me that he was going to research this, and to call him back the following morning. By this point, I was getting anxious to leave, but I had to wait- so I went back into town again. This time we went to Subway, as we were all getting sick of Little Caesar’s!

Bob Peoples, a long-time trail maintainer and all-around great guy, operates the hostel. Bob definitely proved what a nice guy he was: a hiker at the hostel the night before, which I hadn’t thought was the nicest guy, lost his camera somewhere. That morning, he woke everyone up as he bellowed into the phone to the poor employee at the IGA store that he’d called, thinking he’d left it there. He consumed 3 and a half out of 4 sleeves of Nate and Lauren’s Ritz crackers without asking, and left the hostel after checking Bob’s truck twice for the camera, along with the entire grounds.

Apparently, Bob found the camera on the front seat of his truck as soon as he opened the door. So he dropped us off at Wautaga Lake, and then he hiked 3 miles to the shelter that the guy claimed he’d be at. He wasn’t there, so Bob brought us back to the hostel. The following morning, the guy called Bob to tell him that he was now at the lake from the evening before, so Bob drove back out there to give the guy his camera. Definitely above and beyond the call of duty, and even of reasonable expectation!

I called the post office back that Wednesday, and the clerk there told me he’d talked to the post office in Knoxville, and they would attempt to retrieve my package, and have it shipped to wherever I’d like it to go. Bob suggested a town about 200 miles north that the trail goes right into. So they agreed to ship it there for me, if and when they found it. (I never received the package.) Ironically, that town seems to be a wonderful place to resupply, since there is a Dollar General store, a grocery store, and even a Wal-Mart.

We all finally left the hostel and hiked about 2 miles until we arrived at Laurel Fork Falls. Then, we took a side trail to a road, and went to the post office so that I could mail a couple of things home that I no longer needed: the legs to my zip-off pants, my fleece hat, and my sleeping bag liner. Lauren sent some film canisters home to be developed. I thanked the postal worker for all his help with my package, and he told me that he was really interested to see the label, and to see what had happened. He said that they had put an APB out on my package.

We went from there to a small grocery store so that we could get sodas, and then stopped to get some lunch. Afterwards, someone there offered to give us a ride back to the trail, and we continued on. We got to the Wautaga Lake shelter, and met Imagine there, who we last saw at the hostel. He, Nate, and Lauren all set up their tents, but I slept in the shelter since I was the only one in it.

The next morning, I stayed there until about 11:30, drinking instant coffee and reading. I finally left and walked over the Wautaga Dam. That was an awful walk, because, although it was on a road, no trees offered shade, and the road climbed steeply. I was really glad to get back into the woods, and under the cover of the trees.

Shortly thereafter, I heard thunder. After a few minutes, I decided it wise to put my rain gear on, even if it was still mostly sunny. Almost as soon as I did, it began raining, and raining hard. Then the hail started. A good mile and a half from the shelter, I had little choice but to continue on, while pelted by half-inch hailstones. They actually hurt my hands as they gripped my hiking poles. I needed water as well, and watched for a stream supposedly on the way to the shelter. I somehow walked right past it, and made my way through the river that the trail had rapidly become. My boots became completely soaked and heavy; they seemed to weigh at least 2 pounds each! I arrived at the shelter before I knew it, at which point the rain naturally stopped.

It actually became sunny again, as if nothing happened. It got chilly though and was less than 65 degrees, according to my watch thermometer. Imagine already had his tent set up, as did Nate and Lauren. There was also another tent set up there, with a section-hiking couple inside. So I stayed in the shelter by myself again. I thought about setting up my tent, but the thought of it raining again during the night and of having to carry around a wet tent did not appeal to me.

The next morning I left pretty early, as I lacked water for coffee or breakfast. The trail from the shelter down to the stream was .3 mile down a really steep trail. I heard from several people before setting out that it was a really tough climb. The next section of the AT was pretty flat, though, so I figured I could hike the next 3-4 miles without water. I got to the campsite with the water source, and found Imagine already there. As it happened, the water was really close, for once, so I refilled, and hiked another 11 miles to the Double Springs shelter, for a total of about 15 miles that day. Along the way, I hiked through some beautiful fields and along relatively flat terrain, a really nice change.

Only Next was at the shelter, and I assumed that maybe no one else would come since it was after 7 when I got there. This, however, proved not to be the case, as another 6 people showed up shortly thereafter. That night the crowd surged to 5 of us in the shelter, with another few people tenting. We had ample room to share, except that the following morning several people got up at 6:30 AM and began talking and laughing as though there was no one around for miles. So, I got up as well, slightly irritated.

Again, I left after everyone, (there was plenty of water for coffee), but I hiked almost 20 miles that day, arriving in Damascus, VA at about 7:30PM. I went to Dave’s Place, a hostel run by the Mount Rogers outfitters, which had been recommended by Bob Peoples at the Kincora hostel. There’s another hostel in town, called The Place, which was only $4 a night, but apparently people have had things stolen there, as there is no caretaker. Dave’s Place cost $10 a night according to my book, and had a locking door. When I got there, the outfitter where I planned to check in was closed. An attendant helping out at the hostel told me I could sleep there, but he couldn’t give me a key to the room. The keys were locked up in the outfitter, as were the clean towels. Also, it cost $23 night! So I didn’t get a key, I didn’t get a towel, and paid far more than I expected to. At least I had my own room.

The following morning, I got up at about 9 and walked over to The Place, to check it out. It seemed fine to me, so I brought all my stuff over there, and indeed didn’t have any problems. The Place has something like 8 rooms, so I chose one on the second floor with a missing doorknob. Since the door still opened, I left my stuff inside and shut the door. People came and started filling up the other rooms, but I slept alone that night. The second night, I shared the room with a section hiker, but only one roommate out of a possible 5 isn’t bad. I stayed there a third night, and once again had the room to myself. All in all, I really enjoyed Damascus. It seemed like a ghost town compared to the way it bustled during Trail Days, but that’s ok; I took advantage of a Dollar General store, a good coffee shop, a really good restaurant, and even a grocery store. Everything a hiker could possibly need.

On the fourth night in Damascus, Nate and Lauren moved in for their last night out on the trail before going home to Chicago. It felt strange and sad, leaving the next day and not hiking with Nate and Lauren, but I expected to meet new people. It comforted me to know that soon I’d reach Harper’s Ferry, where Pax planned come down and meet me. We planned to spend a couple of days there, sightseeing and relaxing, but I already knew Harpers Ferry would mean more than a reunion.

By the time I hiked out of Damascus, I came to terms with the fact that there is simply no way that I am going to be able to complete a thru-hike. Conventional wisdom dictates that you have to make it to Harper’s Ferry by the 4th of July in order to make it to Maine and Mount Katahdin before the park closes by October 15th. Harper’s Ferry remained 530 miles away, and there is simply no way I could make it there in the next 3 weeks, no matter how gentle the terrain may be. So my plan began to change. I would meet her there as soon as I could make it, and then go home to Connecticut for a week. Then, we would drive up to Great Barrington, Massachusetts, and spend a day or so there, until I continued north, to Vermont, New Hampshire, and finally Maine. I’d once hiked the section between Great Barrington and Harper’s Ferry, so at least this way I would finish the trail. I will be a “2,000-Miler”, rather than a “thru-hiker”- but that’s ok.

It still counts, as far as the Appalachian Long-Distance Hiking Association (ALDHA) is concerned. I’m hoping to reach Katahdin before October 7th, so that she and I could drive back in time for ALDHA’s annual “Gathering”, which this year was being held in North Adams, MA. I knew the greatest way to finalize my hike would be to go up on stage and receive a patch and a 2,000 miler certificate. I still really looked forward to this, to my surprise, and used that to motivate myself as I began my 500-mile hike to Harper’s Ferry.