Demeter's Dish: Appalachian Trail Day 92 - Manassas Gap Shelter to Rod Hollow Shelter - No Pain, No Rain, No Maine (Mile 983 to Mile 996)

I wake up this morning to the pitter-pat of raindrops on my tarp. The weatherman was definitely not wrong on this one, unfortunately. I pack everything up under the protection of the tarp, making it the last thing I put in my pack. Even though everything was protected from the rain, it all feels damp to the touch, as it always does in the humid weather.

I head north on the trail by 7:30 am. It'll be slow going today in the rain, I am sure, but I will try to do my 15 miles regardless.

I walk up and over a mountain and on the way I run into a section hiker followed by another one about 30 minutes later. One of them tells me that the next shelter was very full last night with thru hikers, and they were all going to try to get into town, except a couple were talking about staying there and taking a zero in the shelter. The 4 miles to the shelter is uneventful; it's actually very easy hiking.

I am so thrilled I brought my umbrella on this trip. I almost left it in the truck but grabbed it at the last minuted. I figure out a way to attach it through my sternum strap to my waist belt so that I can walk with my hands free and it doesn't move. It's a little bit close to the top of my head, but that's okay.

The rain is so heavy at times I can't hear my audiobook through the phone speaker, so I wear my Shokz headphones. I am now on the fourth book in the Red Rising saga. A big 'thank you' to the hiker that recommended me this series so long ago! This series has kept me company for the last two hundred miles!

I get to the intersection for the next shelter. I've been kind of struggling mentally with whether or not I want to go there. I would really like to get out of the rain for a few minutes and eat some lunch without worried about dropping anything on the wet ground. On the other hand, the shelter is 3/10 of a mile down the trail which means I would also have to walk the 3/10 of a mile back up. I really hate bonus miles, especially on rainy days.

My desire to relax under the shelter roof wins out, and I descend on the blue blazed trail to Whiskey Hollow Shelter. When I arrive, I see a young man inside who looks to be asleep in his sleeping bag, and I try to be very quiet when I ascend the stairs to the covered porch, but he lifts his head up. He was obviously not sleeping. We chat for a few minutes and I tell him I'm just getting out of the rain for a little while. He tells me he decided to zero here and then he lays his head back down again, oblivious to what I'm doing.

I take off my backpack and pull out my food bag; I decided if I'm going to all this effort then I'm going to stay here for at least 30 minutes. This shelter is so nice. I've been here before. If you're going to zero at a shelter this is the place you want to do it.

I filter a couple liters of water and plan on drinking one with my lunch. I just enjoy being out of the driving rain for a little while. But I am cold since everything is saturated, so I take off my rain jacket and put on my down jacket for a few minutes over my sodden shirt. I pull every single thing out of my pack to get to my battery pack, but it will only take me a few minutes to stuff everything back in when I'm ready to go.

I see the longest earthworms I have ever seen in my life, and take a picture of my shoe next to one for scale. I wear size 11 in women's shoes and this thing is longer than my foot!!

I look at my map and realize that I probably won't make it as far as I had hoped today. I know the next shelter is almost nine miles away. I think that will be a good stopping place. I kind of kick myself or not bringing a sleeping pad because as much as I hate sleeping in a shelter, this sure would be a nice day to just hunker down in a place that has three walls and a roof. Especially because there's an inch of water on the ground everywhere I look.

I remind myself that I'm okay with sleeping in the hammock and any conditions, and a little rain and mud won't hurt me, but when I leave the comfort of the shelter, I think of ways I can shave some weight from my pack in order to bring a sleeping pad with me in the future.

Over the next five miles after Whiskey Hollow, I hike up an over some hills where there should be some views but I can't see 50 feet off the ridge. The highlight is Sky Meadows State Park, where the AT wanders through the western side of the park for quite some time, maybe two miles, on a lovely maintained and flat trail and forest road. The tulip poplar (Liriodendron tulipifera) are in full flower, and I the cup-shaped blooms litter the trail.

The Trail In Sky Meadows State Park

Tulip Poplars in Bloom

Leaving Sky Meadows, I cross US Route 50 at Ashby Gap, where I hike uphill some more and cross many streams, all of which are swollen and angry. I have absolutely no lack of water, and I can fill up my water about every mile. The only problem is with the downpour, all of the streams are dirty. There will be no clear water today. I really hope my filter doesn't get clogged with all the silt and debris.

I feel like I'm a pretty decent judge of time and distance on the trail, but with the rain (and having my head down) I'm a little disoriented. I feel like I should have been at the turnoff for Rod Hollow Shelter by now. The vegetation on both sides of the trail are collapsing into the trail like it hasn't been very well maintained.

I keep brushing by spicebush (Lindera benzoin) and avoiding getting snagged on wild roses for the last half mile. The smell is intoxicating, even in the rain, but maybe with my head down I accidentally made a wrong turn? I consult the map and I breathe a sigh of relief when I realize that I am indeed on the right trail and did not accidentally take the side trail.. It's just that the water is weighing all the vegetation down and making it choke the trail

The map says I'm actually very close and within a quarter of a mile I see the blue blaze. There are wooden lumber bridges of sorts, made by elevating some 2X6's off the ground with blocks of 4x4's.

Some of the boards look like they have been recently replaced and aren't very weathered. I take a step and immediately my feet fly out from under me and I go down hard on the bridge. I land really hard on my right hip and my right hand, which I hyperextend back in the process. I sit there for a second, the wind knocked out of me by the fall. I cautiously move my hand. Nothing broken, thank goodness, but I'm going to ache tomorrow. I get up gingerly, testing all my joints: nothing seriously injured.

One of the many small streams

One of the Many Slick Bridges

I spy the turn off to the shelter shortly after my fall. Just before the trail junction, I stop to take a quick video of the death traps. I literally put one foot over the bridge to try to cross over to the other side where it was a little less muddy and my feet fly out from under me again! I can't win. I'm just putting the phone away and going to stay in the mud where I'll get wet and muddy but not at least not kill myself in a fall.

I turn onto the blue-blazed trail to the shelter. I cross a small stream that has swollen to the size of a very large swift stream with the rain. I go up to the shelter and see there is one female occupant who has her tent set up in the middle of the shelter. As soon as she sees me approach, she unzips her tent and jumps out, moving her things which are spread all over the inside of the shelter to make room for me. I stand in the driving rain outside the shelter and I tell her not to bother because I am going to be sleeping in my hammock tonight.

The Side Trail to Rod Hollow Shelter

I take off my pack and grab my umbrella to look around the shelter to see if there's a suitable site here to set up. The picnic table is under cover of a roof, and it sure would be nice to sit here tonight and eat my dinner. But I like the sites near the AT, closer to the raging torrent of a stream, so I shoulder my pack, say goodbye, and walk a short ways back up the trail.

I hang my tarp super high, so I can hang my hammock high as well and not have to worry about getting splashed with water at night. The trees that I pick are the perfect distance, but one is so big in circumference I worry my tree strap won't fit around it. I let out the tree strap as far as it will go and it barely fits around the tree with only two inches to spare.

I get set up and make all of my adjustments to my tarp and hammock before I strip off my soaking wet clothes, put on my woolies including my wool socks. Sitting on the side of my hammock like a chair, I heat up water on my stove under the cover of the tarp, careful to not get the stove too close to tarp or hammock. I rehydrate my dinner, which is Peak Refuel Homestyle Chicken and Rice. Which is as close to comfort food as I can get right now. The rice is in a cheddar cheese sauce with big chunks of chicken. This is my new favorite camp food for sure.

My shoes are drenched, so when I have to get up and water the leaves at some point tonight, I will have to put on my soaking wet shoes. Thankfully I have a couple of plastic shopping bags in the bottom of my pack. I pull them out and tuck them inside of my hiking shoes, so when I get up my socks will stay dry.

The good news is with the driving rain the critters won't be able to smell the food. I get up and hang my food bag on nearby tree and tuck in for the night. The time is only 7:20 p.m, but I am wiped out and I quickly fall asleep.