Author Archives: donsbrother4

When I started planning this hike back last fall, I prepared a tentative timeline up to New Hampshire. As I regularly perused the schedule, I noted where I should be on my birthday. It wasn’t in a motel room in Daleville, VA. Then again, we never really know where we may be on any given day. When he turned 53 in July, 2010, my brother didn’t know that less than a year later he would be facing an ALS diagnosis. So while I can’t help but lament my injury, I’m reminded just how insignificant it is in the big realm of things. In fact, compared to Donald’s plight, it’s like comparing a penny to a billion dollars. Come to think of it, that’s not even a wide enough margin.

So as I continue to rest and hopefully heal, I’m also reminding myself of the virtue of patience. When we are generally healthy, time is the healer. When someone has a terminal illness, however, time is merely that space between life and death. But aren’t we all living somewhere along that indefinite line? No one knows exactly how much time we have left on this earth. What we do know is that every minute of every day is precious. We can’t waste even one second of the time we have been given.

So as I sit here enjoying a second cup of McDonald’s coffee, I’m trying to dwell on the positive rather than the negative. My family loves me and is supportive of this adventure, my friends have showered me with good wishes for success from the beginning, I’m generally in excellent health, and the Achilles will heal. I know how to rehab the injury, which I am doing. I also know that rest is important. So despite the setback, the trail awaits when I am ready to continue the hike.

And now, six hours later, much good has occurred. The new shoes, along with some high powered anti-inflammatories, have arrived. I’ve continued to “doctor” myself throughout the day, and I’m walking without the slightest limp. Plus the tendon generally feels a lot better. If progress continues (and there’s no reason to think it won’t), the plan is to resume the hike on Sunday. Now I just need to continue what I have been doing in the rehab department.

With time on my hands, I’ve thought about my brother often today. I greatly miss his birthday calls. Many times over the years Don would treat me to a Braves game later in the season to celebrate. I’ll never attend another game at Turner Field without remembering those special moments.
Things happen for a reason. We don’t know why, but we accept. So I’m accepting this minor setback with patience, until I can hike again on up the Appalachian Trail.

Over the course of the last eight weeks I’ve met a number of interesting folks on the Appalachian Trail. Most recently, Howdy Man appeared just as I was praying that another hiker would be around when I made the descent of Dragon’s Tooth. Having stressed all day over a part of the trail that many say is the first significantly technical section, I feared that I would have to tackle the narrow ledges alone. Then just around a bend on the climb up the southern side, there sat Howdy Man.

After I told him that he was a Godsend, Howdy informed me that he hiked slowly and liked to talk. Letting him know that was fine with me, I listened. Howdy began by actually posing a question. He wanted to know why I was hiking the AT. So I told him about my brother and how his illness and death had been a factor in my decision to hike. Several times Howdy looked over his shoulder as I talked, seeming to appreciate my reasons. Then he explained why he was on the AT.

Although only twenty-two, Howdy said that he had already comprised a “bucket list.” And on that list was hiking the Appalachian Trail. He went on to say that initially he considered eliminating that goal, thinking he would never find the time. Then, however, he decided what better time than now. Even though he has a degree in Mechanical Engineering in hand, Howdy said he has always wanted to be a policeman. He would later talk of small town departments where he might like to work, as I concentrated on getting off the ledges without a slip. For such a young fellow, he appears to have a firm grasp on his future.

With dark clouds overhead and a thunderstorm imminent, I hoped that my new hiking buddy would pick up his pace. He didn’t. Still, I figured hiking over the dangerous stretch with another hiker nearby outweighed passing Howdy now only to reach Dragon’s Tooth alone. As the sky grew darker, we finally arrived at the blue-blazed trail to the monolith. Even though we knew that rain was on its way, we both wanted to see the famous “tooth” before venturing on up the trail. We didn’t linger, only taking a few pics before retracing our path back to the white blazes.

Just about the time we started the climb down, the black flies made their appearance more noteworthy. As Howdy Man led the way, I followed, swatting flies with one hand and balancing myself with the other. Howdy just kept smiling and talking. All was good. Each time I thought we had finally come to the end of the dangerous section, another portion requiring the use of hands appeared. Howdy thought it was great fun, and as matter of fact, after the initial adjustment to hiking without poles, so did I. Howdy Man’s companionship for the descent allowed me to fully enjoy a section of the trail I had been dreading.

When we finally did reach level ground, I hiked on behind Howdy Man until the rain started. Noticing that he had picked up his pace a little, I assumed Howdy would hike with me to the road and walk to a nearby store to dry out. That was not to be the case. When the raindrops got bigger Howdy suddenly stated, “That looks like a good spot,” as he ducked under a tree to pitch his tarp. It didn’t look like that good of a spot to me, but then, I wasn’t the one pitching the tarp. I yelled goodbye before moving on.

Three days later I again saw Howdy on the trail. He asked me if I had tried his “cowboy camping” yet. I told him that I had not, but I’m sure if I do, I’ll remember Howdy Man as I look up at the stars. For a person so young, Howdy resembles many on the Appalachian Trail. He simply walks one day at a time from where he is to where he thinks will be a good place to spend the night. Life can be rather simple when all one has to do is awaken each day to follow the white blazes toward Maine, and the northern terminus of the Appalachian Trail.

The best laid plans……maybe it was the 25 mile day on Sunday, maybe it was the cumulative miles, maybe it was too many hills…..or probably it was the new shoes. Whatever it was, I had to cut today’s hike short with a very sore right Achilles’ tendon. From the outset I realized that an adjustment in miles would be necessary before the day ended. Since I have hiked relatively injury free for 53 days, I knew it was inevitable that I would eventually suffer a setback. Now I just hope it’s brief. Having had tendinitis on many occasions over my years as a runner, I know how to treat the ailment. More significantly, I realize that the most important component of recovery is rest. So I’m back in Daleville for at least three or four days.

A cool, pleasant sunny morning greeted Speck, Little Seed and me as we headed up the reasonably level trail from Harvey’s Knob. After less than a mile, however, I knew the day would be a challenging one. Not due to the terrain, but instead due to an Achilles that began talking to me in a language that I unfortunately had heard before. It repeatedly asked me to give it a rest until I finally realized that I needed to slow down. So I gingerly attempted to hike without a limp throughout the morning. Finally, I gave up and limped. Relying heavily on my poles, I somehow still got in 12.1 miles.

My hiking companions were nice enough to stop at the first crossing of the Blue Ridge Parkway to allow me to catch up. It was then that I told them to hike on and not worry about me. Surprisingly, for a couple of miles I stayed with the two as the soreness temporarily subsided. Then just as quickly, it returned with a vengeance. I hobbled the next few miles, finally reaching the Cove Mountain Shelter where my two buddies were having lunch. Also at the shelter were the two Jersey boys we had met yesterday, Calves (not Cabs) and El Gato. They had been joined by three other section hiking friends, Sandbaggers, GG, and…..I can’t remember the strongest hiker in the group. Shoot me an email when you get home and read this, Calves.

As I dejectedly ate two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, Speck finally asked me what I was going to do. Reluctantly I told her I felt like my best option was to try to get to VA 614, Jennings Creek, and go back to town. The other option was to hike on to the planned shelter and face a more challenging day tomorrow, with a very sore tendon. I think I made the only sane decision. All the others commiserated with me until I tried to alter the gloom with laughter. It hurt, but I knew walking away from my friends of only a few days was really all I could do.

Watching Speck walk into the distance and eventually disappear over the horizon was one of my lowest moments on the trail. We had become good friends in a short period of time. I will miss her. Still I have to move on. As I continued to very slowly make my way toward the road, I called Linda. She too felt for me. After a brief emotional moment I knew I had to walk on up the trail….for now to a road where old reliable Homer would be waiting, but in a few days back to the same spot to continue north. Again, there really wasn’t any other choice.

When I finally reached the road, Homer too showed remorse over my situation. On the drive back to Daleville I outlined my rehab plan to him, mainly so that I could hear it aloud rather than just in my thoughts. Part one was to call my good buddy John Teeples. John is overnighting a new pair of Cascadias one half size bigger, along with some other items that should help with the injury. But for the rest of the night and the next few days, it will be ice, anti-inflamatories, and rest.

As I assess the situation, I’m still determined to stay positive. After all, I’m over a week ahead of schedule with 15 mile days. I can still take ten days off and finish on the day I planned, and even if I need to finish a little later, Baxter State Park usually remains open until mid-October. So I’ve had a little setback. I’m really grateful that it didn’t come earlier and that hopefully, it isn’t that serious. Trail news may be somewhat diminished for the next few days; however, I hope to see a few of the hikers I’ve passed recently as they arrive in Daleville. My brother would say, “Rest, get better, and get going.” I’m listening Don. In just a little while I’ll be walking again on the Appalachian Trail.

There is a section of the Appalachian Trail in northern Virginia that is referred to as the roller coaster. In a way every day on the AT can metaphorically qualify as a roller coaster. From the physical unending ups and downs to the emotional ebbs and flows, each day comes with its set of challenges. On some days I awake and think, “Do I have to hike again today?” Then when I take that first step on the trail, all is well with my world. On other days I wake up raring to go only to suffer a case of the doldrums within the first couple of miles. Like in life, there is no certainty to how a day will turn out on the trail. I sometimes find myself identifying with Gulliver in Brobdingnag while at others I seem to be Odysseus looking for Ithaca.

Today I got the opportunity to again hike with Speck, along with Lost Girl and Little Seed. We departed from Daleville at 7:30 with a planned 16.1 mile day, which would take us to Harvey’s Knob Overlook. A rather mundane trail today, no views were evident until we reached the first of three crossings of the Blue Ridge Parkway. Such crossings will continue regularly through the Shenandoah’s. Other than a couple of stiles and four or five short stream crossings over rocks, nothing really stood out.

We did meet two hikers from New Jersey who have section hiked over 1700 miles. El Gato and Calves related some of their hike to us during one of our breaks. I at first thought Calves had said his trail name was Cabs even though he was pointing to his lower leg when he told me. It took me a while to understanding what the man from Jersey was saying. Both seem like great guys. Considering where their section is scheduled to end, there’s a good chance I will see them again tomorrow.

When the three ladies and I reached the Wilson Creek Shelter we took a lunch break. A couple of day hikers were there with their dog. The pooch didn’t seem very friendly, so I failed to get his name. As we relaxed, El Gato and Calves stopped by. They were headed to the next shelter for the night. Also passing by was Howdy Man. It was good to see my young friend from Dragon Tooth again. With a somewhat cold breeze beginning to make us a little uncomfortable, we finished our lunch and then resumed the hike.

At the second crossing of the BRP two folks had set up chairs and were providing some trail magic. Footnote, a former thru hiker, and his wife Pat had quite the spread. From fruit and vegetables to cookies, pound cake, and milk, it was all good. The popcorn, however, seemed to be the favorite. Footnote also told us about his recent completion of a hike of the entire Blue Ridge Parkway. It was nice to spend a little while chatting with Footnote.

When our group reached Harvey’s Knob Overlook, Homer was waiting for one final shuttle back to Daleville. Very tired from the hike and poor sleep last night, I briefly dozed on the ride back into town. Now I’ve got to make the walk down to Kroger for some groceries because tomorrow it’s back to the woods for two nights. Even though the views were minimal and the trail more of the same, again it was a good day to have nothing to do but walk. I continue to think about my brother Don often as the journey continues northward on the Appalachian Trail.

My now good buddy Homer and his lovely wife Teresa dropped me back at the trailhead off VA 624 at a little before 7:00. After a short climb, the trail crossed more pasture land with numerous stiles. Other than a few patches of mud, it was a comfortable trail on an equally comfortable, cool sunny morning. I made really good time, reaching the large parking lot at VA 311 to Catawba in a little over two hours. Lots of day hikers had parked there for their climb up to McAfee Knob.

As I began this segment of trail, I met four such day hikers from Blacksburg. A little later I passed a large group including a lady carrying a baby in one of those harness-like apparatuses. On such a gorgeous weekend day, many were in pursuit of the spectacular views that McAfee has to offer. This section of the AT is one of the most visited on the entire trail. Easily accessible from VA 311, many will hike the just short of four miles trail, up and back.

On the way up the trail I stopped by Johns Spring Shelter where I had had the snake incident on a section hike. See “Snakes” in my prep entries. Half and Half and Rango, two young hikers I had met about a week ago, were packing up to leave. They scooted by me a few minutes later; however, when I got to McAfee Knob they were both there along with Torch. The three asked if I would take their picture. I took several of the three friends, and Half and Half likewise took a couple of me. Also on the knob was former thru hiker Low Gear and his dog Tonka. This proved to be a banner day for dogs, and I know my brother would have liked them all.

As advertised, the views from McAfee were beyond spectacular. A more perfect weather day could not have been had. After just soaking it all in for about ten minutes, I headed on up the trail toward Tinker Cliffs, a half mile cliff walk with a continuous view to the west. Planning to take a break for lunch, I came upon a couple from Radford, Frank and Ellen. They had quite the picnic going complete with wine. Ellen offered me a sandwich, but I chose to just eat one of the three I had brought with me. Again I had the good fortune to also be in the company of two very well-behaved dogs, Dee and Sam.

From Tinker Cliffs I passed several other vistas over the next four hours. Toward the end of today’s hike, the trail alternated between rocks of varying sizes and soft pine straw. I’ve actually begun to enjoy some of the rock hopping that is required on the occasional boulders. Before reaching Daleville, the trail also passes under power lines five times. At one of these spots with a view, a lady and two children had walked up to enjoy the scenery. On a picture perfect day, I can easily understand why.

About 200 yards before the trail reached the highway in Daleville, Jungle Juice had set up his tent. I had last seen him on Tuesday in his sleeping bag at the Rice Field Shelter when I was hiking in the rain. An easily likable young man, he seldom goes into towns except to re-supply. That’s the case with a lot of the young folks on the trail.

When I reached the road I walked on across to where the trail begins to climb again. Then I stopped, turned around, and headed back to my room and a hot shower. A little later I joined Speck, Lost Girl, and Little Seed for a meal at a Mexican restaurant. It was a delightful way to conclude my day, dining with the three ladies. When Lost Girl couldn’t finish her fajitas, Speck suggested we take Jungle Juice some town food. So I ventured back up the 200 yards of the trail and presented JJ with the gift from the ladies. He was most appreciative.

Throughout today’s hike I thought often of my mother. This was the first Mother’s Day in my entire life that I had not spent some time with her. I did call her twice. Since it was her first Mother’s Day without her other son, I knew that Donald was on her mind throughout the day. On my first call I also got to speak with my wife, Linda, and wish her a Happy Mother’s Day as well. The views on today’s hike were special, but no view is as special as the two most important mothers in my life. To all I know who qualify, Happy Mother’s Day from the Appalachian Trail.

Since I have almost completed one-third of the trail, am taking a day off, and, therefore, have no news to report from the trail itself, I thought a day of reflection was in order. When I began this adventure exactly 50 days ago, I set some mini goals. I wanted to first get to Neel Gap, then to the Smokies followed by Hot Springs, Erwin, and Damascus. I kept telling myself, “Get to Virginia, and you’ll be OK.” So now that I’m over 200 miles north of Damascus, I couldn’t feel better mentally. At this moment I’m about as positive as I’ve ever been that I can accomplish my goal and finish this thru hike of the Appalachian Trail.

And after a solid eight hours of sleep, when I don’t think I moved all night, I feel physically fresh again as well. The threatening skies outside my motel room window can’t even deter from how good I feel right now. Plus speaking of weather, the next three days are calling for sunny skies and cool daytime temps. Those are forecast to be followed by two sunny, much warmer days. Whatever the weather, I’m already eager to hike tomorrow.

Earlier today I went to Bojangles for breakfast and also visited the outfitter for a replacement bucket for the shaft that was replaced yesterday. Leki offers a lifetime warranty, so I used their guarantee on a bent pole. After arriving back at the motel, I sat in the lobby for a long time chatting with Navigator and Airborne. An army vet, Airborne had gone through OCS at Ft. Benning during the Vietnam era. He had planned to hike as far as a college reunion in Maryland, but is having foot issues.

While we were conversing, Trucker and a couple of other hikers that I had not met arrived. Pfeiffer also showed up before I left. Bidding them all farewell, at least until I see them on up the trail, I walked across the road to a different motel. I needed an upgrade on accommodations, which I definitely have. The mom and pop type of motel was OK in Bland and Pearisburg; however, in a bigger city like Daleville, I felt like something nicer.

Speaking of towns and rooms, it appears that quite a few other hikers are becoming aware of my strategy. I made it no secret from the start that I would utilize every bed and restaurant I could find. If you were unaware of this tactic, read two of my prep entries entitled, “Where Do We Eat?” and “Where Do I Sleep?” Every thru hiker has a method. For me it’s trying to sleep in the woods as seldom as possible. For some it’s the exact opposite. I am finding many others who are fully utilizing the shuttlers. Some shuttle drivers are virtually busy all day.

Recently in Pearisburg, I told Mr. Gigglefits and Paisley (two of my favorite young folks on the trail….you need to hear him laugh and see her smile) that I had finally spent another night in the woods at the Chestnut Knob Shelter. Paisley said I couldn’t count that because it was a fully enclosed shelter with a door. If that’s the case, I haven’t slept in the woods since the Smokies, but I’ve walked past every white blaze. The phrase “Hike Your Own Hike” is one that is often heard on the AT. I’m definitely hiking mine.

So today, like so many over the past 50 days, is a good day. It’s a good day to rest, a good day to write, a good day to catch up on emails and texts with friends, and a good day to watch baseball. Tomorrow, however, I’ll venture out again as I continue my pursuit of a completed thru hike on the spectacularly beautiful Appalachian Trail.

Some hikers say the reason they don’t keep a journal is because they are too tired to write at the end of the day. Today I understand what they are saying. I’m tired! in fact, I’m close to exhaustion after a 15.4 mile day which started with a long climb of almost 1500 feet over two and one-half miles and ended with a technical descent of the trail down from Dragon’s Tooth. Both challenged my hiking skills, but in very different ways.

Like many other days, I used a shuttler to get back to the trail today. Actually Speck arranged for Homer to drive us. A trail and shelter maintainer in the Daleville area, Homer exemplifies all that is good about the Appalachian Trail. Along with his wife and two youngest children, Homer thru hiked the AT a few years back. When I asked him about the difficulty of the section around Dragon’s Tooth, he said he had come down it carrying a chain saw. Now at 71, Homer takes a very active role in maintaining the trail. When he picked me up this afternoon, Homer told me that he had cut grass near the trail and run five miles earlier today. Tonight he was playing bridge.

After returning to the trail at Craig Creek Rd., I hiked on ahead of Speck and Jodi since they were planning a shorter day. Because we didn’t shuttle out until 11:30, I hoped to hike quickly so that I could get to Dragon’s Tooth before the predicted afternoon thunderstorms arrived. After that already mentioned initial ascent up Brush Mountain, the trail very slightly descended for four miles to Trout Creek. During the descent, a short blue blazed trail led to the Audie Murphy Monument. The monument was erected near the site where Murphy died in a plane crash.
Since two wooden benches were available, I relaxed on one to eat a sandwich. Scarecrow, who I hadn’t seen in over a week, occupied the other.

For much of the day the trail was friendly. Then came Cove Mountain and a variety of rock structures to climb over. Just before the blue-blazed trail to Dragon’s Tooth came into sight, I met for the first time Howdy Man, a recent college graduate with a degree in Mechanical Engineering. Howdy started from Springer on April 1 and uses some rather unorthodox hiking strategies. For one, he’s carrying a very light tarp which he only uses if it’s raining. On most nights Howdy said he cowboy camps. That is a hiking term for sleeping under the stars.

As we approached Dragon’s Tooth, a swarm of some kind of black fly decided to harass me. Swatting flies while going over the rocky trail was not what I had expected. But neither was the trail. I had become so concerned with the difficulty of the rock ledge section that I had failed to appreciate a couple of beautiful views. This portion of trail provides hikers with the opportunity to do a little rock scrambling. Even though I handled the segment well, I was still glad Howdy Man was around. Although I didn’t really need his help, he stood beneath me on some of the more difficult parts.

Just as we began our final mile toward the road, the rain, accompanies by thunder, began to fall. Howdy Man found a suitable spot and stopped to pitch his tarp. I hiked on at a faster pace, hoping that Homer would be there early. As I got within a few minutes of the road I spotted his car with the lights on. Harder rain began to fall just as I entered the car. Homer drove me back to Daleville before his bridge game tonight.

Tomorrow I’ve scheduled a rest day. I thought about waiting a few more days; however, my body is telling me it needs a break. With showers again in the forecast, it seems like a perfect day to take a day off. The first of next week is showing sunshine, so I hope I’ll have great hiking weather as I make my way toward Waynesboro, the next major town on the Appalachian Trail.

Thursday, May 9: Blue skies and bright sunshine prevailed on a perfect hiking day in every respect. Even with a couple of precarious stream crossings on slanted wet rocks, nothing could spoil the picture-like views or detract from the pleasant company. From pasture crossings to rock hopping, the trail offered great variety throughout the morning and the afternoon alike. The 16.8 mile day raced by, leaving me happily tired with my feet in a stream at its end.

Like the last two mornings, my day began at the Pearisburg Hardee’s. Speck and I walked over for breakfast at 6:20. For the third time I had the pleasure of chatting with Fred Austin and his son Steve. Since the post office had already closed when I needed to buy stamps yesterday, I asked Fred if he would do me a favor by putting something in the mail for me. He graciously agreed. I feel honored to have made the acquaintance of these two gentlemen while in Pearisburg.

Right on schedule, shuttler Don arrived at 7:00 to drive Speck and me back to the trail. We were immediately greeted with a straight up climb from Rocky Gap. Then the trail leveled to Kelly Knob which afforded us our first view in what seems like a week. After passing the Laurel Creek Shelter, we encountered the first of two challenging stream crossings over wet rocks. The still swollen creeks were not as high as yesterday; however, rocks were still submerged. After watching Speck cross the first stream with relative ease, I chose a different approach which led to a wet shoe.

We then made our way over a pasture which provided us with beautiful views in all directions. Puffy while clouds dotted one of the bluest skies I have ever seen. A footbridge at Sinking Creek was a welcome sight. Then a little over a mile later we arrived at the Keiffer Oak, the largest oak tree on the AT in the south, estimated to be over 300 years old. Carpenter and Little Seed, two northbound hikers that we had seen yesterday, were stopped for photos. We alternated taking others’ pictures. After they had moved on, Speck and I took off our packs for a rest.

When we headed on up the trail, a section of rocky, slanted slabs awaited us. We both were thankful that the sun was out and that the slabs were dry. Skipping, hopping, and climbing from one slab to the next made for a somewhat unnerving, yet fun segment of trail. Breathtaking views to the east enhanced the hike. At one time Speck commented that the rocks were exhilarating. I agreed. Beginning to feel more like a seasoned hiker, it was all fun.

After passing the Niday Shelter and walking across one final stream for the day, Speck and I arrived at Craig Creek Rd. at 4:03. Speck’s daughter-in-law, Jodi, had not gotten there yet. So while we waited, Speck and I took off our shoes and soaked our feet in the ice cold water. When Jodi was over an hour late, I decided to walk up the road in hopes of finding a home with a phone since there was no cell service in the area. Because a ferocious sounding dog guarded the first home I saw, I kept walking. A few minutes later, a friendly man in a pick-up stopped to ask if I needed help. He owned the home with the dog and had seen me walk by. Again a trail angel came to the rescue. Jeff Bacon not only let me use his phone to call Jodi, but he also drove me back to where Speck was waiting. Shortly thereafter Jodi drove up and we were on our way to Daleville. The ladies dropped me by my motel before heading to theirs.

After getting cleaned up, I joined Speck and Jodi for dinner at a Cracker Barrel. When the subject of trail names came up, I suggested Lost Girl for Jodi. We all laughed. She plans to join Speck for a four day section hike, her first on the AT, beginning tomorrow. For me, it will be back to the woods alone to deal with Dragon’s Tooth and perhaps a thunder shower as I keep heading north on the Appalachian Trail.

For the third consecutive day, I got wet. Really wet! I was again soaked at the end of a modest 13.1 mile day. My pack is wet, my rain gear is wet, all my clothes are wet…..I suppose it’s clear by now that I’m not a happy hiker. Well, actually I couldn’t be more content. I’ve covered 45.2 miles over those last three days, and somehow I’ve managed to stay afoot while doing it. Plus, the forecast for tomorrow is sunny with a high of 75, which hopefully will help dry out the, saturated beyond recognition in places, trail.

Another reason that I’m feeling so good is that for the first time since I moved on up the trail from Molar Man, I had a steady hiking partner all day. Speck, a cardiology RN from Atlanta, shared the shuttle back to the trail head with me this morning. A strong hiker of about my pace, we seemed to compliment each other well over the sloppy terrain. Also a runner and mountain biker, Speck has section hiked the AT from Springer up to where we concluded our hike today. Her plans are to hike four days with her daughter-in-law beginning on Friday and then to finish up this section in Waynesboro in a couple of weeks.

Today’s hike began with a climb of about 1000 feet to Bailey Gap Shelter. Several rocky areas necessitated that we hike with diligence for a couple of miles. Just like the past two days, no views were visible. At times the trail transformed into a stream of moving water. Keeping shoes and socks dry proved impossible. I’ve just come to accept the inevitability of uncomfortable conditions when they occur.

Unlike yesterday, only one water crossing presented a bit of an unnerving situation. Speck handled the walk across a log bridge easily. I, however, inched my way across, trying not to look at the raging waters underneath. Every time I heard rushing waters in the distance, I feared a raging stream without a bridge. It’s doubtful that the water will subside over the next twenty-four hours, so I could have more such obstacles to deal with tomorrow. There’s no point in worrying about the inevitable.

After passing Lone Pine Peak, the trail descended almost 2000 feet. With a quagmire to deal with, the downward hike required some slow, tedious maneuvering. We met two brother section hikers, Electric from Boston and Yoda from Columbus, Ohio. Yoda requested our permission to film a 30 second video which he plans to post on YouTube when he finishes his hike. He has been videoing hikers for about 100 miles. I told both about my hike in memory of Don. Electric said he looked forward to checking out my website. We also met another southbound section hiker whose name I failed to get.

When Speck and I reached the War Spur Shelter, we took a short break. Two hikers were sitting out the rain. Then just past the footbridge over Johns Creek, the trail again began to ascend. With more wet rock slabs to handle, we slowed slightly on our way to Rocky Gap where Don the shuttler was waiting to transport us back to Pearisburg. An extremely affable gentleman, Don insisted on stopping at Wendy’s so that we could get a late lunch before dropping us at the motel.

For the first time in several days I’ve gotten in a good hike, showered, had a meal, and written this journal entry, and it’s not even 5:00. I’m about to go do a little shopping and then have dinner at a Mexican restaurant across the street. And as I look outside I notice that it has stopped raining. Despite the rain and messy trail conditions, good company and thoughts of my brother made for another joyous day on the Appalachian Trail.

My good buddy Kevin and I have a phrase that we apply to days like today when we go for a run in a park near my home. Just me and the ducks. I can’t think of many creatures more suited for a day like today. For hiking it was dismal. In fact, I thought about using the same opening paragraph that I began with yesterday. Again, the rain never ceased until the final two miles of a 21.7 mile day. At times it was downright annoying.

Despite the rain, however, my day got off to a great start over breakfast at Hardee’s. Just as I was finishing my meal, I heard a voice from a booth behind me say, “not very good hiking weather lately.” That brief comment led to a fifteen minute conversation with Fred Austin and his son, Steve. After sharing with the gentlemen about my hike in memory of my brother and his faith, Fred asked about our church. When I told him that our family was Methodists, he revealed that he had been a Methodist minister 38 years. The final portion of that tenure had been as a superintendent. Before our chat ended he had shown me a picture of his red-headed great-granddaughter. The retired minister exuded a sense of pride and kindness. His generosity became even more evident when he drove me to the trailhead about a mile up the road. My good fortune to keep meeting fine local folks continues. Before the reverend drove away, I let him know that he was now an official trail angel.

Walking into the woods, I felt a little irritated that I had to re-walk about three quarters of a mile that Snailmale and I had hiked yesterday. Still within half an hour I had crossed the New River Bridge and was headed back up a mountain. Shortly after beginning the climb, I saw my first turtle of my journey. Right after I passed the tortoise, the rain began. And I mean rain. For the next eight hours I would hike in a steady drizzle. A dense fog added to the discomfort since the trail was only visible a few feet ahead of me.

When I reached a rocky section, I noticed a safari type hat lying in the center of one of the flat slabs. Recognizing it as belonging to Jungle Juice, I picked it up and placed it in the mesh pocket on the back of my pack. I had met the young hiker last night in Food Lion. He was re-supplying to return to the trail even though it was almost dark and getting to the first shelter would require a 6.8 mile hike. I was a little concerned for him as he headed back to the trail.

So when I retrieved the hat I was counting on him still being at the shelter. I was right. When I walked up Jungle Juice was in his sleeping bag alone in the shelter. Very grateful for the return of his hat, which he said he lost in the dark trying to prevent a fall, JJ said he planned to stay at the shelter and take a zero today. I told him I would see him up the trail as I hiked back into the thick fog.

For about the next four miles I hiked on relentlessly, trying to maintain a fast pace just to keep warm. Like yesterday, I lamented not having the opportunity to enjoy the views. Suddenly in the distance I noticed an approaching hiker wearing a green poncho. I said something like, “I don’t believe it….another hiker!” The lady paused to ask if I were Mike. Don, the shuttler, had dropped her off where he was scheduled to pick me up in the afternoon. Speck, who said she was on day two of a section hike to Waynesboro, was slack packing south today. Before walking away I told her I was Don’s Brother. “No way!” She replied. Speck had been reading my journal regularly before beginning her hike. So we talked about sharing a shuttle for tomorrow briefly before both of us realized we better get moving before a chill set in.

And so I slogged away, only seeing three other hikers all day. Two thru hikers, also slack packing south today, only paused long enough to
tell me that plan. Then toward the end of my hike I met southbound thru hiker Crazy Horse, a young man wearing a Washington Nationals baseball cap. He had begun his hike in August, taken the winter off, and was now continuing to Springer. As long as a hike is completed within one 12 month year, it is considered a thru hike.

With about five miles to go, I called Don to tell him I was about an hour and a half ahead of schedule. He said he could be at VA 635 shortly after 4:30. At the time I was getting colder as the incessant rain continued. I also didn’t know at the time that a couple of flooded stream crossings would pose significant challenges. Stepping stone rocks were now under water when I arrived at the first stream. Since my shoes and socks had been wet all day, I simply stepped on the submerged rocks and crossed. At the next crossing, however, things would be different. Had it not been for an overhanging limb to use for balance, I’m not sure I could have made it. As I stepped on the first underwater rock, I felt the rushing water pulling on my shoe. Fortunately I maintained my balance as I carefully made my way across.

At about the same time I navigated the final stream, the sun peeked out for the first time in three days. After a quick stop at the Pine Swamp Branch Shelter, I steadily hiked to the road, crossing by wooden bridge over the raging Stoney Creek. Within ten minutes Don drove up to shuttle me back to Pearisburg. After a very wet, occasionally challenging, and a bit lonely day, it definitely felt good to be in a town tonight. With more rain in the forecast, tomorrow could pose difficult as well. Still, when tomorrow’s hike concludes, I’ll be just that much farther north on my way to Maine along the Appalachian Trail.