This morning we took full advantage of the hostel breakfast, which is cooked to order by Miss Julie herself. I had a heaping plate of cheesy eggs and potatoes and two cups of coffee before saying goodbye to Timex and getting shuttled back to the trail.
I am not on the trail for five minutes before I must stop and take off my pack to pull on an extra layer. I also get out my heavy mitts and pull my buff on over my face. The temps are that cold: the wind is at least 30 mph, and we are following the road, which offers zero protection from the gale. At least the pitch is easy, but I'm looking forward to reentering the woods to have protection from the wind. We cross over I-77 as snow starts to fall! Thankfully the precipitation is short-lived, and stops a few minutes later.
After about one mile, the trail leaves the road sharply to the right, and we must rock hop to cross a picturesque creek. A trash barrel at the edge of the road instructs hunters to deposit their carcasses here and not in the creek. Miss Julie warned us against drinking the water here, even if we filter it first, as this creek is known in these parts as poisonous.
We are back in the woods, and I'm trying to be thankful for the trees blocking the wind while walking uphill. My lips are numb and my eyes are watering, but the frozen bits will warm up quickly now that we are out of the wind. One of the things that stink about walking uphill is spending so much energy trying to breathe that it's hard to look around and enjoy the surroundings. This is our last day of this section, so I stop frequently and take big breaths and just savor every moment.
The sun is shining brightly, but it feels like late fall instead of late spring. Inches of crunchy leaves litter the trail, the tree limbs are as bare as a baby's bottom, and the only green to be seen is the pine, moss, and teaberries. Surprisingly, I see a couple butterflies flitting about the trail in a sunny but sheltered spot.
On the ridge, the wind is crazy blustery, kicking up dust devils of dead leaves. I have to lean in to the wind while on the windward side and freeze with chill, only to cross back over to the leeward side, where I sweat in the sunshine. This is how our day goes. At least we cross the 600 mile mark today! The wind has erased any sign of the previous mark, so I try to draw one in the dirt with my hiking poles, but it only looks like I wrote the word "God." GG makes a better one out of sticks, but it still looks like she wrote "God!"
We descend to a road. GG is waiting on the side of the road with her pack off but puts it back on when she sees me. We chat for a bit. I am out of water, so I need to stop at the next spring, about a half-mile further on the trail. I'm also going to use the opportunity to grab a snack. I told GG I need water and she can go on to the shelter, where I will meet her if she doesn't want to wait. I stop at the spring and I am collecting water when she blows by me, so I guess she wants to meet at the shelter.
About 1.5 miles later I get to the shelter and drop my pack. I don't see GG anywhere. Two men are setting up camp and they say "hey, if you are with the other lady, she said she didn't want to stay here and she went up the trail to another campsite." I can't tell if they are joking or not. But GG certainly isn't here. She left me. I'm a little upset. She didn't see me stop or acknowledge that she heard me when I said I was stopping. What if I had an accident and she didn't wait for me to catch up and instead gets further from me? There is no cell service here and we can't communicate. The safest thing to do is to wait for one another, especially when this was our pre-agreed upon meeting place.
I am tempted to just stay here out of spite, and I would if we weren't driving home in the morning: I don't want to spend time tomorrow trying to find each other. I cool down a little and realize I am just being petty, but at the same time, GG tends to get lost frequently and I get stressed worrying that she will take a wrong turn. She has pretty much the same gear I have; the FarOut App and the InReach, but she doesn't really know how to use the InReach for communication or navigation.
I talk to the guys setting up camp for a few minutes. One of them is hammock camping for the first time. He said he is thinking of going back to a tent because he is cold, although he really likes the comfort of his hammock. I give him some pointers, telling him about the wonder of under quilts and double layer hammocks for sleeping pads, and he gets excited about trying other ways to stay warm. I say goodbye and go back up the blue blaze to the trail and hike north.
About 30 minutes later I see GG setting up next to a creek. This is a much lovelier spot than the shelter, but there are a lot of dead and dying trees about. I look up into the canopy, but it's hard in the waning light to see dead branches called widowmakers, just waiting for an unsuspecting camper to set up beneath so they can drop on top of you while you sleep. I pick a spot that looks safest and set up my hammock quickly.
Today's Stats: 13 miles, 2254 feet gain, 3000 feet loss
Trip Stats: 605 miles, 147K elevation gain
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