I slept fitfully last night, probably because I kept having dreams of something crashing on top of me while in my hammock. I was surprisingly comfortable with my legs elevated. My legs feel better from it this morning: the dependent edema from hiking is a constant out here. For the last hour of sleep, every time I would think I needed to get up I would close my eyes and go back into a dream. GG wakes me up by asking me to come get the food bag out of the tree, because it's stuck. I ask if there is anyone awake at the shelter who can help, because I'm not ready to get up. She replies they are still sleeping, so I roll out of my hammock and rub the sleep from my eyes.
I trudge up the hill to the shelter and GG calls down "it's okay, Mochi is up, and she is helping me." We started calling Mochila by the shorter moniker of Mochi.
I grumpily reply, "I am going back to bed," but I don't. I realize I need to get moving. I pack quickly and walk up to the shelter and join GG and Mochi at the picnic table where I drink a protein and coffee shake.
We are on the trail together at 8:15 am. The hike is absolutely gorgeous, and the three and half miles to the next road pass very quickly. I reach Low Gap (not to be confused with another Low Gap 130 miles back) shortly before GG and Mochi and stop at a large cement picnic table next to the road to enjoy a snack while I wait for them, since sitting at a table to eat is a luxury out here. The peace is broken by a large group of motorcycles roaring by. I realize today is Saturday and with the beautiful weather, lots of people will be out taking a drive through the mountains today.
They arrive 15 minutes later, and I load up my pack. We hike together for a little while, then decide to meet at the next shelter, which is only a few miles farther up the trail, for lunch. I spend the next hour enjoying being in nature with no sound other than the wind in the trees, the birds singing, and the buzzing of bees and flies.
I arrive at the McQueens Knob Shelter within minutes of Mochi. Built in the 1930's, the McQueens Knob is one of the oldest shelters on the Appalachian Trail. Also known as the "Holiday Inn," this isn't a proper AT shelter for sleeping but rather serves an emergency shelter only, as it's really small: only room for three people laying down or more if sitting. Furthermore, it lacks chinking between the logs making up the walls, which means the shelter is permeable to rain, wind, and snow, so why it's considered an emergency shelter at all is a little confounding. Moreover, the Abingdon Shelter is only one mile further to the north, and with the road 3.5 miles the opposite direction, I don't know why anyone would elect to stay here.
While we wait for GG to arrive, I survey the numerous new blackfly bites spread over my legs. The ground in front of the shelter is covered in jewelweed and Plantago, and I chew several leaves and slap the poultice on my bites. Once GG appears, we enjoy a leisurely lunch in front of the shelter before heading further north. The temperature cools enough for me to stop and don my long-sleeved shirt.
There is no water here, and no water after Abingdon Shelter, so we plan to stop at the shelter and filter water there then continue on until we find a suitable campsite. GG and I hike together for the 30 minutes to Abingdon. We both feel melancholy, since this is the last full day of this section. We have been hiking for 19 days without one day off. As ever, we are excited about going home and seeing our family and enjoying the creature comforts, but we will miss our friends and the rhythm of trail life.
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| Abingdon Shelter |
We arrive at Abingdon Shelter and shed our packs and pull out our water filters and bladders so we can filter enough water for camp tonight and in the morning. Unfortunately, the app describes the water source as "0.2 miles steeply downhill," and since the app tends to gloss over the descriptions, we know it will be a hike. Numerous daytime bear encounters have been reported here recently, so we are on guard. We don't want to hike an extra half mile down and back up with our packs, so we decide to take turns getting water while the other stays with our packs at the shelter, guarding them against a bear incursion. It is quite the trek down and back up again, and although we just had lunch, we decide to cook up our dinner and eat our big meal now, so we have less to carry to camp. With the time it takes for water filtering and then eating dinner, we are almost an hour and half before we are back on trail.
Leaving the shelter, we walk along a nice and relatively level ridge. We stay together and Mochi is so much fun to talk to. She has a podcast called "Hiking with Effie," the name of her dog and also a character from The Hunger Games. She regales us with stories, and it takes my mind off my full aching belly.
We step over the occasional pile of old, dried bear scat as we walk. Very soon we see the piles increase in frequency and they look decidedly fresher. Perhaps I was getting paranoid, but a couple of the piles looked like they may have come from a rather large animal. We have now seen seven piles in the last half mile. Bear corn on the edge of the trail has been ripped out by the roots and rocks have been turned over in a bruin's quest for food. An anthill was recently shredded to pieces, the claw marks visible in the soft soil and ants are running every which way. Bears love to eat bugs, and nothing says dinner to a bear like a big anthill.
We decide to stay closer together because the afternoon was giving way to evening, and the likelihood of a bear encounter is pretty high. I am taking a picture of a very fresh pile next to my foot for scale when I hear Mochi yell from just ahead. Of course she was out of sight, around a bend just in front of me. GG and I round the bend to see her sitting on a rock. She said the bear was digging in the middle of the trail when she came around the corner. Thankfully it was appropriately scared of humans and ran off without a fuss.
We were going to camp here tonight, but we decide prudently to walk farther down the trail. About one mile further we walk by a lovely, cleared spot next to the trail and we get set up just as some raindrops start to splash us. The rain ceases after a few minutes, so we sit on rocks around the cold firepit and chat until the rain starts again in earnest. We are excited because we are only 6 miles from Damascus. We say goodnight and retire to our respective sleeping places.
Today's stats: 11 miles, 1800 feet gain
Trail Stats: 464 miles, 109,000 feet elevation gain
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