Appalachian Trail Day 74 - Thunder Ridge Stealth Site to James River and Glasgow (Mile 774.9 to Mile 787.5)

I tossed and turned last night, but still wake feeling refreshed.  I start packing at 6:30 am, just when the sun is starting to rise.  There is a blanket of fog over the ridge top and the sky is hazy.  I'm probably not going to get an opportunity to dry out my wet stuff in sunshine today. The current temp is 57F, and I catch a stiff breeze when the trees thin out, but for the most part the trees line the trail. 

I only have 12 miles to go to get to the James River Bridge and Glasgow.  I need to decide what to do next.  I would like to get a little farther north, but it's lonely out here!  I'm starting to see more people, but still nothing compared to the back of the hiker bubble I am used to hiking in.  Plus, when I do see people, they are usually on a mission to make miles and get into town. 

I talked to my husband last night and told him I may bail at Glasgow.  I know I need to get into town because I am running out of food and my battery pack is completely dead.  I used the last bit of power to juice my phone to 80%.  I don't care if my InReach goes dead, but I would be in trouble if I can't call the shuttle to pick me up when I get to the bridge. 

I'm starting to see a lot of fresh bear scat on the trail. If I would shut my trap and stop audio journaling, or turn off my audiobooks, I would probably see a bear.  I see a very large pile of fresh scat followed by two smaller piles.  Definitely a mom with a cub or two.  Maybe I will just keep making noise to keep them away!

Fresh Bear Scat on the Trail

Appalachian Trail Day 73 - Stealth Site past Bryant Ridge Shelter to Stealth Site past Thunder Ridge (Mile 764 to Mile 775)

I slept fitfully and when I get up, I walk back down to the shelter to filter water for my hike today. I have a lot of elevation to do, so I want to be very hydrated before I  take off.  The shelter denizen is still sleeping; I can hear them tossing and turning.  I wonder why all sleeping pads have to be so noisy, always sounding like squeezing a potato chip bag. 

The stream is too shallow for me to collect more than one cup at a time, so I scoop out a depression in the stream bed and let the silt settle to the bottom before I can collect the water.  I end up taking 45 minutes to filter three liters!  I could be over a mile up the trail by now.

I make my morning cold protein latte and drink it while I pack.  By the time I get packed and on the trail, it's almost 9 am.  I am tired and dragging hard, but will take my time and get to wherever my feet take me today.  I have nowhere to be but a little farther north of where I am now. I am greeted by a nice looking deer on the side of the trail. 

Appalachian Trail Day 72 - Taylor's Mountain Overlook to Stealth Site past Bryant Ridge Shelter (Mile 745 to Mile 764)

I am up at 5:30, but it's still dark.  I pack up camp and go through my food bag to pull out my snacks.  I make my breakfast; protein powder, chia and ground flax seeds, kencko fruit and vegetable powder, and instant coffee. Lots of protein and fibrous goodness to start my day! I sling my very heavy pack onto my back and get back on the trail as the sunlight just starts to illuminate the dark wood.  

A short walk and I emerge onto the Blue Ridge Parkway and see a pull-off offering a view of the sunrise immediately in front of me! I take off my pack and plan on watching the sunrise, when I realize the sun is rising behind the trees to my left. So I heft my pack and head up the trail.  

Appalachian Trail Day 71- BeeCh Hill B&B to Stealth Site past Taylor's Mountain Overlook (Mile 731 to Mile 745)

I slept really well last night!  The shed is unconditioned and uninsulated, but I was toasty warm in my down quilts.  My little thermometer says it is now 52F, which isn't too cold for camping weather.  After all, I sleep best when the nighttime temps are in the 40's.  I lost one of my earplugs during the night, and the road noise starts to increase in intensity until I finally get up at 6:30 am.  

I pack up and head to the main house for coffee and breakfast, when a woman pokes her head out of the shed next door.  She is a south-bounder who started in Harpers Ferry at the end of July, about 6 weeks ago.  Beth brings out fresh homemade waffles and muffins, and serves a cantaloupe she picked fresh from her garden for our breakfast!  Satiated and ready for the trail, I say goodbye and make my way back to where I got off yesterday. 

Appalachian Trail Day 70 - Campbell Shelter to BeeCh Hill B&B - Bears, Bees, and Tara Dower and Rascal (Mile 715 to Mile 731.7)

 9/9/24 

I am awake at 5:30 am and start packing up right away, hoping to get as far as possible today.  I slept really well last night, only waking once last night to water the leaves.  My down under quilt is a little light for the low temperatures last night, but I had on my thick socks and put on my down coat backwards with my arms in the sleeves like a wearable down quilt for my upper body. 

I retrieve my food bag from the bear box, startling the shelter inhabitant; an older woman with white hair that stands up in all directions from sleep.  She smiles and introduces herself, and I am charmed right away by her kind and affable nature. I sit at the picnic table and chat while I pack my belongings. 

She is a retired schoolteacher and announces this is her third (and last) attempt at thru hiking. She was hiking the trail with a friend Southbound last year and made it more than halfway when he had to get off trail for surgery and then passed away unexpectedly.  She starts to cry while she tells me this and I feel the tears welling up; I am so sorry for the pain she feels from her loss. 

There is something profoundly healing and liberating about being in nature, but on the flipside the feelings of crushing loneliness can be overpowering. I wish I were going Southbound, because I would be very happy to hike with her. I encourage her to stay on the trail.  The Sobo hikers who started in Katahdin in June should be hitting this area soon, so hopefully she will have some more company. 

She tells me that the next water source at Lambert's Meadow is nothing more than a mud puddle, so as she departs the shelter, I decide to go top off my water back down the hill.  I will think of her a lot today and send lots of good vibes her way.

I was planning on camping somewhere between Lambert's Meadow and BeeCh Hill Hostel in Daleville, but that was before I found out about the dearth of water on this section.  Today is going to be hot, so I am fully loaded with four liters, which adds 9 pounds to my pack.  The good news is that as I hike, my food carry and water weight will both go down throughout the day. I am thinking I will try and make it to BeeCh Hill tonight, but 16 miles is a lot when I haven't been on the trail with a fully laden pack in months. I'm not the tigress that I used to be, after all...

I am down the trail a couple of miles before I spy lots of grapes growing from vines easily reachable from the trail.  I grab handfuls as I walk, and the grapes are small, but the taste is bursting with tart sweetness.  I am reaching for another handful when I feel cold water trickling down the back of my leg, which means my water bladder is leaking!  

I whip off my pack and jettison the contents, trying to avert catastrophe. If I can't make it to Daleville but lose my water, tonight is going to be rough indeed. I hold up the bladder and survey the damage. The cap wasn't twisted on all the way. I caught it early and only lost a cup at most.  Crisis everted for now. I know a lot of other hikers would call me foolish for refusing to carry Smartwater bottles (a mainstay of the trail), but I am unequivocally, absolutely, better hydrated when I have a bladder at my disposal. My Platypus bladder has hiked with me over 1,000 miles, and it hasn't failed me yet. Although when it does, it will probably go out in epic fashion. Like when my life depends upon it working. 

Wild Grapes

    

The views from the ridge are stunning.  I have views off both sides during my hike, and I am admiring the sun sparkling off a body of water down the hill to east.  I take out my maps and see it's a reservoir. I am admiring the view when a man comes running down the trail from the north.  He has the lanky cachectic appearance of a thru hiker, replete with Dirty Girl gaiters covering his ankles, with the exception of his pack, which is a running vest. He introduces himself as Sparkle. Of course it is. I ask if he is thru hiking, and he states the affirmative. I ask about his pack. He said he left Katahdin 39 days ago and has an RV and he has been slackpacking the entire trail.  I am absolutely speechless!  THIRTY-NINE DAYS to go 1400 miles!! This maniac is trail running an average of 36 miles a day and he is HAPPY! WTF!? I say goodbye, asking him to say "Hi" to my white-haired friend down the trail, and explain that she is lonely. He promises to do so, and we continue on our respective ways. 

I reach Tinker Cliffs an hour later, and the views are absolutely wonderful.  Today is a bluebird day with not a cloud in the sky.  The last time I was here was in the late fall, and the frigid winds made lingering tortuous. I take some time to enjoy the sublime views from the last of the Triple Crown. 

On a more somber note, just past Tinker Cliffs I pass the Andy Layne Trail junction, where a hiker was found deceased just two days ago.  No foul play is suspected; it appears the hiker died from natural causes, and no further investigation is ongoing.  My heart is heavy with the thought of someone dying out here all alone, and only hope he died doing what made him happy. 

I see this theme developing today: a juxtaposition between liberation through living life to the fullest, and the loneliness and sadness from loss.  We all must live life and process trauma in our own ways, but jeez, it can be hard. 

I arrive at the Lambert's Meadow Shelter and decide to stop and have a stretch in the shelter and then lay on my back on the floor with my legs in the air against the side wall. My legs love being elevated, but my back doesn't like the hard wood floor, so I get up and eat lunch at the picnic table. Where I watch some crazy squirrels run after each other, up and down the trees, wishing I could channel some of their energy.  There are so many squirrels that when I hear something moving in the trees, I am nonplussed about the possibility of a bear.  I need to be more alert, because so few people are out here that the possibility of a bear encounter is pretty high. 

When I leave the shelter, I pass by the campsite, and I wish I had stopped here for lunch instead!! Out of curiosity, I go down and survey the creek. There is indeed a muddy puddle here, but when I walk downstream a little way, I see some decent sized pools of water.  I am feeling so defeated, because I didn't need to carry so much water from the last shelter.  I make sure to leave a comment in the FarOut app, so the next hiker doesn't carry so much water for so far. I contemplate soaking my tired feet in the stream, but I still have 10 miles to go so I carry on. 

Lambert's Meadow Campsite

The View Toward Daleville to the North I am enjoying the smooth, soft, pine straw covered trail for a couple miles after I leave Lambert's meadow, but it's short lived.  The trail turns into a hot mess of rocks that I have to step over and around, which really slows down my forward progress.  I am hot, and I am tired, and I am having quite the pity party despite the beautiful views of the valley from the ridge.   I am pulled from my misery by a commotion just over the hill in front of me.  I have been listening to the squirrels all day, but this is a whole different level of racket.  There are only two other animals that will cause this level of disturbance in the woods: bear or turkey.  I cautiously step forward; the hill is only maybe 10 feet high.  I peer over the edge to see a large bear about 25 feet beneath me.  I can hear a loud buzzing and realize the bear is shoulder deep in a beehive and there are a lot of really pissed off bees buzzing about the bear's body.  I then see another smaller black shape. A cub!! Then another.  Wow!! I am standing very still, not sure if I should retreat down the hill, but I have no way of knowing which way the bears will head.  I figure I am safest here, because if the momma turns and sees me, I can make a huge racket, and she will turn away from me to herd her cubs to safety. Not even a minute later, she decides she has had enough and walks slowly the five yards to the trail and turns north, away from me. One cub, then the other, follows closely behind, turning to look at me for a minute. I am thrilled at this fortuitous encounter with the bruins, and my mood does a complete 360-degree turn as I watch the bears walk up the hill away from me,  then turn to the left off the trail, back into the woods. I then see what made the bears go into the woods.  A woman with a hot pink running vest and long dark braids is picking her way quickly down the trail towards me.  She pauses for a second when she sees me.  I call out to her that there are three bears that just went in the woods where she is standing.  She continues down the hill, with another woman following.  They near and she says she just saw a bear.  I told her there were three, a mom and two cubs.  I tell them to be careful because they were stirring up a bee hive.  The woman behind her says she knows, because she got stung on her face.   A few months later, I was watching Tara Dower's videos on YouTube documenting her FKT on the Appalachian Trail.  I realize that it was she who was stung, and you can hear my voice telling her to be careful on her video!

The rest of the day continued without incident, and I am so excited to get off for the day!  I still have two miles to go when I cross a stream and I take off my shoes and socks and stand in the water until my toes are numb.  I need to get going, or I won't ever get to the hostel. 

I emerge onto US Route 220, a major road crossing with cars whizzing by; a shock to the senses after being in the woods all day.  I stop and pop some ibuprofen for my aching feet. A gas is next to the road, so I go in and grab a cold IPA to enjoy later today at the hostel.

The remaining mile to the BeeCh Hill Hostel is grassy and relatively level, which is wonderful because I am so tired!! I see some water and a note under a tree directing hikers to the hostel.  I turn off and approach the large, two-story white house where I left my resupply box a couple days ago.  A man in overalls and long white hair and beard is mowing the yard.  He stops when he sees me and gives me a big warm, welcoming smile.  His name is Yeehaw and he is one of the hostel owners. He shows me into the house, where Beth welcomes me back.  

I am checked in and shown to my lodging for the night; a shed with three single beds in it, complete with lights, electrical outlets, and a fan.  Unless anyone else comes in tonight, I will have it all to myself!  I jump into the shower next to the garage, which is one of the best outdoor showers yet on the trail; the hot water felt so good, and the crazy water pressure gave my head the most amazing massage!

Feeling wonderfully clean and energized after hiking almost 17 miles in the hot sun,  I put on my sleeping clothes and give my dirty and stinky hiking clothes to Beth to clean for me. I am out by 9 pm!

A tricked out sleeping shed 

Today's Stats: 16.7 Miles, 2428 feet elevation gain, 4009 feet loss

Trail Stats: 731 Miles; 165,155 feet elevation gain; 169, 274 feet loss 

Appalachian Trail Day 69 - Four Pines Hostel to Campbell Shelter - McAfee Knob (Mile 705 to Mile 715)

This trip was kind of last minute. My husband and I were supposed to take a road trip vacation to Canada, but his work obligations made it impossible to take off more than a couple days, so I decided to hit the trail.  GG is also booked up doing other things, so I am doing this section by myself.  

I arranged a shuttle with Stanimals Hostel in Glasgow.  I parked my car there this morning and was dropped off at the place where GG and I got off trail in May, when she broke her hand, at mile 705.   As a side note, I am glad to report that she did not require any surgery, and she is now fully healed from that injury. She was actually running trails with a cast on her hand! 

On the drive here, we passed a hostel I will be staying at in a few days, and I dropped off a resupply box, so I won't have to go into town to replenish my food.

I learned from our very first week on the trail that it's more prudent to park your car as far as you can reasonably hike during any section.  I leave my car at the end, so I have to hike back, and it makes it more difficult to bail out during a moment of weakness. 

The Mid-Atlantic region has experienced a drought with very little rain falling in four months.  I guess I don't have to worry about hiking in the rain any time soon, but I do have to worry about finding water, as many water sources along the trail are completely dry.  

I take a quick picture at the kiosk at mile 705 and head north once again on the AT.  The weather today is delightful: 75F degrees with a light breeze blowing.  The trees form a protective canopy from the sun until I emerge into fields with groups of cows milling about.  

The Kiosk at Mile 705

Appalachian Trail Day 68 - Pickle Branch Shelter to Four Pines Hostel - Dragon's Tooth and a Broken Hand! (Mile 698 to Mile 706)

5/14/24

I awake with a renewed vigor this morning.  I slept incredibly well.  Yesterday I was on the struggle bus all day long, digging deep to find the motivation to keep hiking and pull myself out of my suffer fest, but I'm confident today will be much better. 

Almost all of the shelter residents leave at the same time.  There is one hiker still sleeping in the shelter, but no one is concerned about making noise while they pack up, not caring if he is awakened.  I find the behavior a little odd, but as we reunite with the AT, No Rush explains that they guy was a jerk and came in making a lot of noise last night.  Apparently, No Rush and Chopsticks had a bad experience with the hiker a couple weeks back, when the man took some drugs and then acted a fool at another shelter. Now it makes sense.

We arrive back at the sign, and I realize someone previously changed the distance to the shelter from 1/2 to 1/3 miles, but it certainly felt like 1/2 mile or more. The shelter area was a nice respite from the trail and I'm glad we went there and saw some familiar faces. 

Rain is in the forecast, and it rained last night, so everything is wet. I have on my rain jacket to protect me from the water dumping on me whenever I brush by a plant. 

The hike up the trail is easy, gaining 700 feet over one and half miles. We pass what is supposed to be a scenic view, but we are socked in by fog, and while we can see a little of the surrounding countryside. We have had so many gorgeous days and amazing views that I don't fret.  

The first big accomplishment of today is that we make it to the 700-mile point of the trail!! The last 100 miles have been challenging, to say the least!  We celebrate with a couple pictures around the "700" that someone made from sticks. 

We continue on the trail, shrouded in fog. The pawpaw trees lend to the prehistoric, tropical feel, which is appropriate as we continue on to Dragon's Tooth. 

The next big accomplishment of the day is reaching Dragon's Tooth, named for the big rock monolith that rises from the ridge top, extruding like a tooth, of course!  I have hiked up here a few times before, but never from this trail, so it's fun to be doing something new.  

The hike up isn't difficult at all, but the hike down should be interesting in this weather. We walk over and between large rocks, following the white blazes painted on the sides of the weathered stone. This hike is challenging in good weather, but the rain makes everything very slippery.  I admonish GG to take her time and watch her step.  

I take a picture of GG with her head down, hiking down some stone steps with the aid of her hiking poles.  This is going to take us a while to get down, but at least we don't have too far to go.  Four Pines Hostel (and my vehicle) is only 2.5 more miles from here, so even if we take our time, we will get there mid-afternoon. Just after I took this picture, the trail became more like a stone slide than steps.  We had to toss down our hiking poles and slide down the rock so our feet could find purchase on a stone outcropping. I'm a little taller than GG, so I just needed to stretch.  GG, on the other hand, had to slide down the stone on her backside until her feet could reach the outcrop.  She yelled out and holds up her hand, her little finger of her right hand sticking out at a weird 90-degree angle. 

"I broke it!" she exclaims, grimacing and holding her wrist with her good hand. I am perched on a four-inch stone ledge and not sure which way to go.  She is now standing on a decent-sized square of flat earth but still needs to navigate this section.

"Can you take off your pack and hand it to me?" I ask, thinking that would make it easier for her to descend one-handed.  If we can just get off this little section of rocks, we can evaluate her injury and decide what to do. 

She awkwardly takes off her pack and I am able to grab it. A mother and son hiking up the same promontory is beneath me and waiting for us to descend before they can climb up.  They have witnessed the entire exchange and ask how they can help. I ask if they are able to grab her pack from me so I can help her down. 

They take the pack, and she passes me her hiking poles. She tries to get down one-handed, but I can hear her yelps of pain as she can't avoid hitting her injured hand. 

Once she is down, we survey the damage.  Whether it's dislocated or broken, it's definitely messed up.  The first order of business is to remove the silicone ring that is on that finger before the finger swells, and the ring cuts off circulation. Unfortunately, we don't have anything but little Swiss Army Knives that have the little scissors that pop out.  Great for cutting duct tape and opening dinner pouches, but not good for much else. 

I cut the silicone band slowly, GG crying out with each cut as I can't help but disturb her injured finger. I do make progress, however, and eventually get the band off.  Which is a good thing, because her finger is swelling up fast!  She is a trooper and says she can hike.  We try to peel some duct tape from our hiking poles, but it's old and lost its adhesive side. GG then cuts the finger out of her glove so that her finger is splinted by the ring finger.  

We make our way down the mountain very cautiously, albeit clumsily.  Of course this is one of the steepest climbs yet, and the wet rocks don't help much. I help her down as best I can, but unfortunately, she still has to do all the work. We get closer with every step, and from one of the overlooks, we can see my truck parked behind the hostel!

Normally when hiking, I ponder the answers to life's greatest mysteries, such as wondering why people hate Nickelback so much.  Yesterday I just finished the entire Dune series (audiobooks) for the fourth or fifth time and spent a great amount of mental energy trying to make sense of Frank Herbert's later books, like Dune Messiah and Children of Dune. Today, I am only thinking of making it to the truck, and what I would do if GG were unable to make it down. How quickly we go from happy-go-lucky to injured and stressed about our circumstances. 

Thankfully GG is tough as nails, and we finally make it to the road, which is a wonderful sight! We road walk a half mile to the hostel.  GG goes inside to change out of her wet clothes, but I just stand beside the truck.  I am packing everything in the bed when No Rush and Chopsticks walk up.  They prefer to go into Daleville, where they can get a hotel room and zero tomorrow in the rain, taking time to visit an outfitter and grab some real food.  They don't have any dry clothes, but I give them reusable shopping bags to sit on, so they don't get my truck all nasty. 

We drop them off at a hotel in Daleville, where we wish them luck.  We make the drive home.  GG calls her husband, asking him to make an appointment at the local orthopedist for tomorrow. She takes some ibuprofen and holds her hand against the window of the truck, which is cold from the outside temps.

GG went to the doctor the next day and she not only dislocated her finger, but she also has a fracture!! She is one tough old bird! She doesn't need surgery but will be in a cast for a while.

Goodbye for now, Appalachian Trail.  You kicked our booties, but it will be a very memorable trip indeed!

Today's Stats: 8.5 miles, 1877 feet gain, 2110 loss

Trail Stats: 706 miles, 162K feet gain