Finding My Rhythm

April 6, 2023

Hello from Montebello, VA at mile 828 NoBo [Trail terminology for Northbound] on the Appalachian Trail.

The Guillotine, Apple Orchard Mountain, March 31

Last year, I mentioned a number of folks, including my family, in a bit of a dedication. This year I would like to add all of you who take the time to read this blog and send messages of encouragement, as well as to the newest love of my life, Arthur “Bear” Colvin. “Don’t grow up too much while I am away.” My supreme Trail Angel Pam, aka “Tick Magnet”, this trek’s for you. I noticed you never looked back when you left me at the Daleville trailhead… your loss as apparently I am reasonably good looking from a few hundred feet. 

Sponge FOB Pouty Pants:

What a difference a year makes! Pam mentioned how the prep and logistics this year were easier because we knew what to expect. In 2022, I was immediately overjoyed to be on the trail, and that feeling lasted 730 miles. This year, I was miserable right off the hop. My pack was WAY too heavy as I had purposely set out with 8 days of food due to limited resupply options, but I also packed for the appetite I had when I got off the trail last May. I had no appetite for the first 6 days and had to force feed myself. Water was scarce, I had toe blisters after 2 days, and absolutely no stamina or confidence. My Us Girls friends back home would tell me to get my head outta my butt and just HAVE MORE FUN!!!

I perked up with messages from home and a chance encounter with Tracy, who along with sister, Kim, I had met last year! By April 2, I was feeling stronger and regaining my appetite. I was able to give some of my food to a guy who really needed it, and I met Poppy Walking and dog Raisin. We have been hiking together for 4+ days. The weather is unseasonably hot ("Poor baby," say those of you wishing winter would vamoose!) and the winds are significant.  With no leaves in the canopy, sunburn and dehydration are issues.

I encounter very few hikers because I got on the trail well ahead of 'the bubble” who begin March and April in Georgia. Most of those I meet started in January or February and are well on their way to Maine. Starting in Daleville has meant 300 miles of very significant UPS and DOWNS, but the terrain will moderate in about 200 miles (West Virginia/Maryland). The sketchiest night so far was at 4000’ on Thunder Hill, March 31. Gale-force winds and rain for 15 hours.

After a Sketchy Night on Thunder Hill

I had my very first shelter-experience at Bryant Ridge [up until now, I have slept exclusively in my tent]. I shared the shelter with Chris, who doused himself with some nasty body spray to kill the funk. I set my sleeping bag at least 20 feet from him, but I swear I was exhaling that crap all the next morning long.

Looking North on Top of Bluff Mountain

Apparently the phone number I was given at T-Mobile is a recycled one. I keep getting messages from a dental clinic in Roanoke for “Noah”. I’ve a good mind to book him a couple of root canals.

Speaking of body funk (which we were folks, please keep up with me!) I just scored a shower, albeit a cool one. Prior to that, I was fouler than a henhouse after Chilli Night. Better now. Also scored my first BLT at Hog Camp Gap the other day -- the Lyme spreading tick, not the sandwich.

Monument to Ottie Cline Powell, Bluff Mountain

The area and mountains around the James River were particularly picturesque. Other noteworthy findings was the grave marker of young Ottie Cline Powell atop Bluff Mountain. In 1890, the 4-year-old went into the woods to collect firewood for his schoolhouse and never returned. At Brown Mountain Creek Valley, I came across the remnants of a freed slave community.

Bloodroot

Critters: turkeys, spring peepers, deer, chipmunks, squirrels, ravens, vultures, jays, cardinals, junkos, towhees, nuthatches, salamanders, coyotes, Barred Owls, miscellaneous woodpeckers including Pileated, and the ever elusive American Robin.

Gray Tree Frog -- rarely seen on the ground
  except in breeding season

Trail Names: Jeff and Maila, Ope from E. Palestine, Ohio (you know, the train wreck place), three ladies coming down from Old Orchard Mountain trying to “find their way and do math” “Skip the math and go down” was my sage advice, Mathieu from Montreal, Bill on the hill, who asked me where to duck hunt up in Canada, Rembrandt from NC, Gray Gote from Texas and Pocahontas from Indiana, Chexxi Cao and Yifan Feng from Blacksburg VA, Norman from the Natural Bridge ATC Club, Alice, Magic Hands, Weatherman* (his moniker more to do with anarchy than meteorology) from Catskills area of NY, and Heisenberg from Germany (we had an absolute blast with these guys last night!!), and Zolo from Colorado Springs but originally South Africa.

*over the course of 3-4 hours, Weatherman referred to me as “dude” perhaps 200+ times… and although I didn’t bring a bathrobe or bowling shoes with me, I feel like I might be The Dude now. He had the longest, gnarliest feet I have ever seen. Poppy told him his toes would get to Maine a few weeks before the rest of his body.

All for now. Happy Trails and Thank you!

Rob: you getting everything you need?

Getting Back to Where We Left Off

In Pam's words:

At the Trailhead, Mile 730, Daleville, VA  March 27

March 24-25, 2023: The Trip Down

Ten months have gone by and Pierre's northbound trek on the Appalachian Trail is about to continue where he left off in Daleville, Virginia. Pierre asked if I would write this blog post about getting him back to the trail. So here goes:

Our plan to leave bright and early Saturday morning was thwarted by a freezing rain delay. By 1:30 PM, we were across the Buffalo border and bombing down the I-219. We stopped for gas in the picturesque ski village of Ellicottville, NY. An unusual storefront sign caught our eyes that required a Google search: thrIVe IV Lounge. WHOA!!! Pay to get hooked up to an IV! Is this the latest health fad? Check out the IV Cocktails they have to offer HERE. A Simple Sally or EVL Hangover anyone?

We entered Pennsylvania in the pouring rain. There were still patches of snow in the Alleganies. It wasn't until the following day after leaving our overpriced, under-serviced roadside motel in Philipsburg, PA that we started seeing the first signs of spring. By the time we reached West Virginia, the daffodils and flowering trees were bursting with colour -- serviceberries, cherries, crabapples, ornamental pears, forsythia, and eastern redbuds! Beautiful!

We arrived at our destination, 25 East Main B&B, Fincastle VA, in brilliant sunshine and 23*C. To return to Mitch and Bobbie Bowman's B&B felt like coming home to stay with old friends. As Pierre said in his last blog post, "If you are EVER anywhere near Fincastle, do yourself a favour and treat yourself to Bobbie and Mitch's hospitality." Check out their website HERE.

Out Front of 25 East Main B&B

March 26-27: Prepping For the Trail

Monday was shopping day for trail food -- enough to last 8 days on the trail as well as to fill four resupply boxes which we then mailed ahead. Pierre treated his hiking clothes with pyrethrin to repel Lyme-disease-carrying-ticks. On our evening walk around the historic village of Fincastle, we reflected on the difference between how we were feeling last year in Georgia over how we were feeling this time 'round.

Last year, Pierre's mood was on edge -- the unknown of what he'd signed up for, the reluctance to leave his family behind, and the shared anxiety over my solo trip back to Stratford -- having to stop at a pharmacy in Cleveland, Kentucky to get a COVID test (which needed to be negative to get back across the border) and driving through the cities of Cincinnati and Detroit where I had a couple of OMG "WHICH WAY DO I GO" split second decisions to make.

This year we were definitely more relaxed, having last year's experience under our belts. Yet there was an air of melancholy. We will miss each other deeply. And it's tough for Pierre to leave his dear Jack Russell, Robbie... and then there's Arthur -- our darling 4-month-old grandson. The world is completely different now and leaving this little guy behind is particularly difficult.

Grampa Pierre and Arthur

Our parting words the next morning at the Daleville trailhead:

Pierre: "I've just got to get this out of my system."

Pam: "If you want to come home before Katahdin, that's okay. Maybe we can finish the Trail together some day."

Walk on, Sponge FOB.  Be strong, make wise choices, and enjoy the moment 💕

Happy Trails, Sponge FOB

The Best is Yet to Come

May 15, 2022. Mile 730, Daleville, VA. 

Reunited at Catawba, VA

Greetings from mile 730 -- 1/3 of the distance for north-bounders hiking to Maine. In Canadian terms, Daleville is about 1,175 km north of the southern terminus at Springer Mountain, Georgia.

The Virginia portion of the trail, to this point, is absolutely stunning and more varied in terms of topography than the previous three states.  The mountains may not be as lofty as they were further south, but there are plenty of ridge lines to gaze at, and large erratics to scramble over, under, or between.  The views from up high are spectacular.  My agricultural roots get a stir when I emerge from the forest and hike across a hilly pasture, or spot cattle 2000 feet below from where I happen to be standing.  The  forest has come alive with the warmer weather -- the canopy is filling in, as is the forest floor.

Symm's Gap Meadow, May 8, 2022

 

I left Pearisburg on the 8th (Mother’s Day) with only 73 miles to complete in the following 5.5 days to reach my rendezvous point with Pam. As a result, the pace was not as demanding as what I had been doing previously.  Two days of rain had left the forest floor lush and green.  I made it to a beautiful campsite in Lost Spectacles Gap late in the afternoon on the 12th.

Rhododendrons in Bloom at Lost Spectacles Campsite

This spot was notable for 3 reasons: 1) I had made it down the north descent from Dragon’s Tooth earlier that afternoon without killing myself (the sketchiest section of trail I had seen to date), 2) the rhododendrons were suddenly in blossom here, and 3) I had an experience reminiscent  of an episode of the Flintstones I remember from perhaps 50 years ago.  The Flintstones and Rubbles go camping and score themselves an isolated and exclusive campsite.  When the families wake up in the morning, they find themselves in the middle of a sea of Boy Scouts arrived for their world jamboree.  How 2000 Scouts can stealthily set up camp overnight without making a sound is beyond me, but you can get away with a lot in an animated cartoon.  In my case, as soon as I had set up my tent and got my bedding in order, the skies opened and the rain began to fall.  So I retreated to my tent and cooked my supper in the vestibule.  When I emerged an hour later after the rain had eased, I counted a dozen tents that had been pitched while I dined, and I had no idea this had all gone down.  It was a group of men who were out for three days and 2 nights.  They were soaked and most had little or no drinking water.  I was in no immediate mood to share as I had gone to the trouble to lug 3 extra litres (heavy!!!) almost 7 miles over this dry section of trail.

 

Hikers working up the Nerve to Approach the Dragon's Tooth

I got my first taste of night hiking the next morning when I left camp an hour before sunrise, as I had 7.5 trail miles and another mile of road-walking to get to the post office in Catawba, VA where I would pick up my re-supply box, and more importantly, meet Pam who was getting shuttled there by an outfitter in Daleville.  I arrived at the post office an hour ahead of Pam thanks to the outfitter who slept in and forgot all about the shuttle.  It all worked out in our favour, as I was able to send my tent and winter clothes back with him in favour of the 2-person tent Pam brought, and he (John) drove us back uphill to the A.T. trailhead.

Pam Found her Jamie Fraser* atop McAfee Knob!

In her 3 trail days, Pam hiked a total of 20 miles (32 km), endured her hairy, smelly husband, a full pack on her back, one pounding rainstorm, some serious climbs, rock scrambling, ticks, and trail food. She lost her taste for ramen noodles pretty quickly in favour of instant mashed potatoes with nutritional yeast. Our first night was spent at Pig Farm campsite (no kidding!) and night 2 at Lambert’s Meadow, which was a stunning location beside a creek.  Pam also climbed 2 of the 3 “Virginia Triple Crown” peaks, including McAfee Knob and Tinker Cliffs.  

Above the Clouds at Tinkers Cliffs

She missed Dragon’s Tooth by a day. We pushed it on day 3 and did over 9 miles, which is a lot for a beginner.  We were prepared to stealth camp, but the topography did not allow for that.  So we pressed on and made it to Daleville late in the afternoon on the 15th, having reached the 1/3 mark in the process.

Just Some of the Rocks We Climbed Under, Over or Between

On May 16, we picked up our vehicle and some re-supply boxes at the outfitter, and then set out on a scenic drive along the Blue Ridge Parkway.

One of the Spectacular Views along the Blue Ridge Parkway

We had a picnic lunch at Peaks of Otter and then drove back to the lovely hamlet of Fincastle, VA and the most amazing accommodation: 25 East Main B & B, owned and operated by Bobbie and Mitch Bowman.  We were absolutely spoiled for 2 days by this lovely couple in their gorgeous home.

25 East Main B&B, Fincastle VA

On Tuesday Bobbie and Mitch offered us the opportunity to drive up to their cottage for a paddle on Craig’s Creek, which we readily accepted!

Enjoying a Peaceful Paddle on Craig's Creek

All in all, those were a couple of days that Pam and I will not soon forget, nor will we forget the breakfasts, and the friendship and kindness extended to us by the Bowmans.  If you are EVER anywhere near Fincastle, do yourself a favour and treat yourself to Bobbie and Mitch’s hospitality.

 

https://www.facebook.com/25EastMainBandB/

TRAIL BITS

Nutrition:  Hiker “Hawkeye” lamented that his pack of ramen noodles had expired 6 months earlier.  He ate them just the same.  None of us figured old ramen could be any worse or better than new ramen.

Watersheds:  I crossed the eastern continental divide on May 11 on Sinking Creek Mountain.  Water draining down the western slope makes its way (eventually) to the Gulf of Mexico, and water down the eastern slope to the Atlantic.

Big Oak: I saw and photographed the Keffer Oak on May 11.  This is the largest oak on the southern A.T., and when last measured was 19 feet in circumference.

The Keffer Oak

Flora and Fauna:  wood thrushes, indigo bunting, pileated woodpeckers, black vulture, five lined skink, red eft (a newt), black flies, eyed click beetle, giant millipede, flat backed millipede, pink lady’s slipper orchid, mountain laurel, deer galore, ticks, nice photo of a timber rattlesnake that I just missed but hiker, Hare (see below), encountered just south of Dragon’s Tooth.

Red Eft

Eyed Click Beetle

Flat Backed Millipede

Pink Lady's Slipper Orchid

Mountain Laurel

Trail Names:

“Effervescent”…the name I gave to Mickey, the dive motel manager in Pearisburg who communicated via grunts and grimaces.

“Oklahoma Tom” …I never quite figured out where he hailed from...

“Moon”…from Raleigh N.C. who was rehabbing a knee injury.  Moon got his name when he bent over and split his pants early in his hike.

“Boost” and dog “Scout” from South Carolina.  I was with Boost at Laurel Creek Shelter on May 10 when she successfully built and lit her first campfire.  Unfortunately her stay soured early the next morning when another camper’s dog, left to roam loose the night before,  caused a ruckus which resulted in Scout exiting the tent thru a sidewall to defend his mistress.

“Tortoise” and “Hare”. Hare was always waiting along the trail for Tortoise to catch up.

“Wilberforce”….who disqualified me from a  particular trivia question around the fire one evening…..”What’s the capital of Canada?” he asked a group of hikers eating dinner.  “Ontario?” NO! “Quebec?” NO! “Ottawa!!” YES “You would have gotten that one, right?” Wilberforce says to me.  “Ya I think so.”

“Determined”…a guy who, like me, had recently retired and was trying a section hike to see if he wanted to attempt a thru hike.  “I’m not really sure I want to do all this” said he, but I reckon he was determined to find out.

“Matrix”, “Strange Brew”, and “Rooster”: 3 absolutely delightful 40-somethings, all recently retired from the military.  Had I been able to keep up with these 3, I would have really enjoyed their company as we became buds instantly, and they were all delighted to meet Pam later on.  "You've got a great smile," Rooster told Pam, "Keep smiling!"

Pam and I met “McLovin” from Boston, who just wanted assurances we hadn’t brought Justin (Trudeau) along with us.  Once assured we had not, we had a nice chat.

In over 700 miles of hiking, I had yet to find a tick on my carcass, and I checked often, as best I could, out of concern over Lyme disease.  In her 3 trail days, Pam found 3…. 2 on her and one beside her.  We therefore dubbed her “Tick Magnet”. 

Epilogue:  Hikus interrupticus

I have decided to take a leave from the the Appalachian Trail and head home with Pam after our time together in Virginia.  I had pretty much made up my mind before we met up in Catawba but wanted her input.  As a Canadian, I have 180 days to be in the U.S.  When I concluded the 20 miles with Pam, I completed 33% of the trail, but used up 40% of my allotted days.  Given my abilities and the onset of hot weather, it’s very unlikely that I can maintain the pace of averaging 17.5 miles per day, let alone increase upon it.  Once that reality set it, the prospect of spending the summer with my immediate and extended family was just too strong.  I did not anticipate this sort of ending.  I knew that it was unlikely I could complete the entire thing before I set out in March, but am a bit surprised to be walking away from it happy.  I am happy to have had the opportunity and the family support to try this, and happy that I enjoyed the journey, both literally and figuratively.  I will miss the simple lifestyle the trail affords, the peace and quiet (no media!), and the ability to just get lost in thought. I will miss the characters I met along the way and the birdsong, but I can always go back and continue in a year or 2, all the wiser from what I have learned about long distance hiking over the last 10 weeks.

I might take up knitting, given that our first grandchild will be here some time in November! 

 

To all of you who followed this blog, thanks for your encouragement and kind words.  If you got a smile or two in the process, then that’s all Pam and I could have hoped for.

Thanks America, for your hospitality, your humour, err I mean humor, and for giving me a good long look at this remarkable slice of Turtle Island.  I hope to return and pick up where I left off. Y’all rock!

Thank you, Pam, for being behind this 100%, for taking care of business on the Homefront, for making these blogs look the way they look, for all of the logistical arrangements and the driving, and for donning a pack and joining me for the last chapter of this adventure.  

Thanks to Alida and Alex for taking care of business in Stratford during Pam’s absences, and for catering to Robbie’s every need. 

It  really has been an amazing experience, and I am glad I have all of the photos and notes to help me recall these times in the years to come.        

Sponge FOB signing off.

* Jamie Fraser is the dashing Highland warrior from the novel and television series Outlander by Diana Gabaldon.

Damascus to Pearisburg VA

Greetings from Mile 637

  

April 25th at 5:45pm

I arrived in Pearisburg yesterday morning, May 5th for a couple of zero days. The descent into town was brief but steep --  a 1500 foot drop from my previous night's campsite on Pearis Mountain. There, I was not serenaded by whippoorwills or owls overnight, but rather by Norfolk Southern locomotive whistles in the New River valley below, to the tune of one about every 10 minutes, no doubt hauling coal to tidewater for export. I had dinner around the fire that evening with 4 other delightful folk in my age bracket. Doug, a 70 year old section hiker and Tampa Bay Lightening fan, was showing me his schedules for where he has to be each day, what he will be eating, and where all of his food and clothing caches are hidden. Forty years in the military taught this man a thing or two about organization!

The weather has morphed from cold to warm in the last 2 weeks. Hikers are starting to send winter apparel home. With any luck, that stuff shouldn’t be required until those of us still at it in July hit New Hampshire’s White Mountains, where weather can be brutal, even in summer. With my current weight loss and feet/ankle swelling, I must reduce pack weight and increase calorie intake any way I can. I will send what I can north with Pam when I see her next week 🧗‍♂️!!! Together we will hit the “1/3 of the way to Maine". 

I just about stepped on a 4-foot grey rat snake 10 or so days ago. Non-venomous but told daughter Alida if I cannot spot a black snake, how am I going to see one coloured to blend?

I came across a small maple bush at a place called Elk Garden on April 25th, on the approach to Mt Rogers. It even had some pipeline.

Many of you are aware that I reached the 500 mile mark near the summit of Mt Rogers on the 25th of April. My MFS “US GIRLS” friends sent me the most clever and appropriate tribute to mark the occasion.

MFS "Us Girls"

Grayson Highlands State Park, most of which is just below 5000 feet in elevation, proved to be as memorable and unique as advertised. It is rocky, windy, at times barren, and otherwise covered with rhododendron groves AND has a resident, fenced-in herd of feral ponies to keep the landscape as it was when cattle grazed extensively until it was purchased by the state in the late 1960’s. Signs warned us that the ponies would bite, kick, or gnaw on our sweat-soaked salty gear, so to please keep our distance. And then it started to pour!

The Wild Ponies of Grayson Highlands

Ever the romantic, I celebrated 38 years of marriage to Pam on the 28th with a phone call from a ridge, once I got a signal! I had to get to a food drop at a post office in Sugar Grove that same day… a 3.2 mile walk downhill, and the same uphill but with 12 more pounds of food on my back. I must be looking a little sketchy these days because hitchhiking was most unsuccessful, and those 6.4 miles don’t even count! There was trail magic in the old Lindamood Schoolhouse on the 29th, and I scored a rain poncho for Pam in the process! This was a lucky find as she was having difficulty finding one at the outfitters back home.

The Old Lindamood Schoolhouse

Around this time, Big Payne, a hiker from NYC, was trying to reconnect with his wallet that he'd lost days earlier (many times, when Big Payne would tell hikers where he was from, they would immediately ask, “Yankees or Mets?!” His reply: “Neither, I like opera”. Good answer!). At any rate, another hiker actually found the wallet, which is a bit ironic given that it had a CAMOUFLAGE pattern on it. They were able to connect via social media. Big Payne could take a life lesson from Candice, my beloved daughter-in-law. As an environmental biologist, Candice spends a good deal of time doing studies in the field. She has pink flagging tape on her cell phone in case she drops it in the vegetation. So, the wallet was making its way north and the reunion was expected to be imminent. But Big Payne was getting off trail that night, so he says to me, “Apparently the guy is hiking with, not one, but 2 canes. If he catches up with you, would you mind telling him I’m spending the night at the Alpaca Farm Hostel?” NOW WAIT A MINUTE: I may not be the fastest hiker out here, but no way is a guy with 2 canes gonna pass me, jerk! Kidding aside, hopefully Big Payne has his wallet back!

I met the most delightful gent on the 27th. We were both getting water from a spring near the Hurricane Shelter, and ended up yakking for over an hour. “All In”, aged 71 and doing a long section hike, is a retired teacher and football coach from Bethlehem PA, and he is expecting me to call him when I get to Duncannon PA so he can take me to dinner and we can continue our visit. Lovely guy!

Spring Near Hurricane Shelter

News Briefs:

Wildlife sightings: deer, ovenbirds, indigo bunting, and black-throated blue warbler are some recent finds.

Black Swallowtail

If a tree falls in the forest, does anybody hear! Yes, Bruce Cockburn, I have watched and heard 2 large trees just fall at random, for no particular reason other than it was time to go. One was along the NC/TN border eerily close by, and the second at a campsite while I was cooking dinner.

I met “Transfer” (he farted in a crowded shelter and the girl next to him got blamed for it) and “Bovi Gyn" (she hails from a cattle farm in Kentucky). When others learned of her background and that she had assisted with difficult birthings over the years, she was given this awesome name. I met them again a few days later and Bovi Gyn was lamenting that the trick for re-shaping stretched Crocs (at least 90% of hikers wear Crocs in camp) she saw on the internet didn’t work. “Don’t put y’all’s Crocs in boiling water… mine just melted!”  I’d suggest that internet hack to re-shape Crocs is simply a crock of $#!+ !!!

I found a Gnome Village by a tree one day about 3000 feet up when I stopped for water. Pam asked me if there was a sign or explanation of any kind. Maybe I have been out here too long but I don’t think this requires an explanation. Clearly a group of gnomes just live there. Period.

Gnome Home

On May 3rd I crossed a really cool suspension bridge over Kimberling Creek. What was waiting for me on the other side? Not gnomes but hippies in a van who offered their own version of trail magic. “Would you like a soda? How about a joint?” I accepted a Dr Pepper but passed up on the joint. Couldn’t risk buddy with the 2 canes overtaking me while I was ransacking imaginary gnome villages looking for chips.

Kimberly Creek Suspension Bridge

Fording rivers: is great for sore and swollen feet. The footbridge across Lick Creek had been obliterated so had to wade across it. Hiker “Clyde” and dog “Bud” (chillest Dalmatian I have ever met) and I agreed it would have been a great place to stay and just soak.

Ahhhhh! Not-Too-Dismal Dismal Creek

The view of Burke’s Garden on April 30 (aka God’s Thumbprint) from Chestnut Knob was outstanding. From a vantage of about 4400 feet, you look down on an agricultural setting surrounded entirely by mountains. Photos don’t do it justice.

God's Thumbprint

There is nothing dismal about Dismal Creek. In fact, I had the good fortune to camp alongside it two nights running and was able to do blissful foot soaks.

Met a guy on the trail from Abercorn QC, just “down the line” from my Mom’s hometown of Sutton, near the border with Vermont.

Trail Names: Cowboy from Wisconsin, Strider (New Mexico), Try Try (Texas, her 4th attempt at thru-hiking the A.T.), Out and About (Minnesota), Good News (NJ, camped with him and had very enjoyable evening), Frogger (Georgia), Trail Maintainer (a retired mine inspector from KY -- we had a good long chat), Mountain Drew (TN), Spicy ATG (Appalachian Trail Gangsta) and daughter Tumbler (caught being mesmerized by a clothes drier while doing laundry on a zero day). I met these ladies back in NC so it was nice to reconnect. Gave 'em toilet paper which made them VERY happy!

Vista From Pearis Mountain

Finally, I walked down the street a few hours ago to mail myself a resupply box and run a few other errands. A merchant asked me where I was staying. (Read the rest of this in whisper volume….) “I am so sorry you are staying there. The health department is watching that place, the law is watching that place, the fire department is watching that place. There have been a lot of problems. Have you had any problems?? Don’t hesitate to report any problems. Ahh, you are just being polite. The more complaints, the better chance we have of correcting that place!"

BACK TO FULL VOLUME: I have not had any problems but it is rather a hole.

Rob: when I get home am gonna eat everything in site, including stuff normally reserved for you, so I hope you are still a fast eater, for your sake!

Pierre (AKA Sponge FOB)

On the Trail to Damascus

Mile 470.7 for Northbounders like me

Greetings from Damascus, Virginia, A.K.A. “Trail Town USA!”

Roan Mtn Summit TN, Former Site of Cloudland Hotel
(demolished in 1915)

I arrived in Damascus at noon on April 21 after a short 10 mile hike from my last campsite. Turns out we were not supposed to camp in that zone due to “Aggressive Bear Activity” last year. My heavily blistered (and painful!!) left set of toes said “STOP,” so I did. It was my first time dipping into my supply of “vitamin I” (ibuprofen).

I am staying at Laurel Mountain Inn B&B, and HIGHLY recommend to anyone interested in coming to Damascus. Kathleen and Drew are delightful, accommodating, and most gracious hosts. The 125 year old home is charming beyond description and I am quite content just to hang out and prep food, etc. for the next 3 weeks. Breakfasts are TO DIE FOR! Drew said I left a nose hair in the bathroom, so I am not speaking to him, although I did accept the giant craft brew yesterday that was offered after I helped move a couch.

Damascus "Feelin Froggy" Craft Beer

I suppose the most challenging segment I have had since we last spoke was April 8, 9 and 10. Pam had messaged that she was glad I was out of the Smokies as that area was to get 6 inches of snow. Unbeknownst to me, so was the NC/TN border where I currently was. The snow started around noon Friday, April 8 (nephew Charlie’s birthday) and increased in intensity as the afternoon progressed. Things got slick and at one point I slipped and did a barrel roll. Winds from the west were icing up the inside left lens of my glasses. I trudged on and made it to Jerry Cabin Shelter where at least 15 people were already hunkered down. I was able to set up my tent and looked forward to better weather the next day (with no cell service to check the forecast, it turned out to be wishful thinking). The 9th was bitter cold with wind gusts. And the snow just kept a-coming! I decided it would be wise to zero then and there and spent an excruciating long, cold, and boring 36 hours in my tiny tent.

Taking a Zero Day in my Tent

Losing a day of travel would mean I’d have to average 16 miles a day over the next 6 days (I had been averaging about 12.5 to that point) in order to get to my resupply box at Elk Park NC Post Office before it closed at 11AM the Saturday of Easter weekend.

The winds died down and Sunday dawned cold but clear. I got outta there as quickly as I could but couldn’t feel my fingers nor was I able to tie my shoes tight enough as they were frozen stiff. My goal was to climb over Big Butt and get into the sun, which was blissful despite the cold. I was blazing the trail thru 6-8 inches of snow and followed turkey tracks, and crossed numerous sets of deer tracks, as well as those of a bear.

Scaling Big Butt Sunday April 10
Seeking Sunshine to Get Warm

Trail conditions ranged from snow, then slush, then ice, and finally mud and rivers of water. Nevertheless, things were getting better. I did eventually remove my shoes and found brand new blisters, which I attribute to inadequately tightening my shoes earlier. Later in the day, I came down in a Tennessee hollow and saw a sign that indicated “Snacks 300 Yards” that way. A lovely guy sold me a Dr Pepper (great time for 20-30 teaspoons of sugar) some DOUGHNUTS, and a frozen slab of pizza (“pait-za” in his awesome drawl) which I cooked in his microwave, bagged up, and carried off for my supper later that evening. “All the girls at the shelter gonna be eating dinner with you tonight when they see you have pait-za!” Let ‘em try touching MY pait-za and someone gonna get a trekking pole in the eye! I wasn’t in a giving mood. Got to Hog Back Shelter later around supper, found a great camping spot I shared with 3 really nice young men, ate my pait-za in peace, and had my best night’s sleep since Christmas. I upped my daily mileage to 16 and got to my mail drop on time.

Sunrise at Unicoi TN April 14

Trail Magic:

Lisa and Tom were set up beside the road April 10 in Sam’s Gap TN. We were served omelettes with all the veggie fixin’s, bacon, fresh fruit, coffee, water, and hand sanitizer (not to be consumed). All they wanted in return were tales from the trail and that we all extend kindness to one another, in any simple way. WOW!!!

Trail Magic, Sam's Gap TN

News Briefs:

Norovirus (a nasty gut bug) is rearing its ugly head in some shelters and hostels. Yuk!

I had heard about them but finally saw one: a thru hiker wearing flip flops! And he was cursing trail conditions as he flew by.

Hostels:

I finally experienced one, The Station at 19E near Elk Park NC. Manager, “Kitchen Sink”, was so helpful and kind to me. I had a shower, did laundry, charged devices, had lunch, dried my tent, and had a delicious craft brew. Kitchen Sink liked my trail name, but thought it needed something more to round it off, so I suggested Sponge FOB Old Fart. He loved it! But that was just for him. Anyway, that place was pretty cool and trail buddy, Lone Wolf, told me that later that night there was a live band and a huge crowd of hikers, bikers, and “country folk”. Everyone got along and the bikers drank the most.

Awesome Night in Nature:

Sugar Hollow along the Elk River April 16. Just moi and Potholder — the frog song as I drifted off to sleep was pure magic. There were spring peepers and 2 other species I couldn’t identify… times like this I really miss my kids and kids-in-law who know ALL this stuff.

Whippoorwills: one of my absolute-all-time-favourite bird calls — first heard at mile 366!

At night in my tent, Unicoi TN

Hitchhiking:

We'll call him Adam picked me up April 16 as I trudged into Elk Park in the rain. I likely could have done a complete re-supply from all of the crap accumulated on his passenger's seat and on the floor of his vehicle. When I got out and was wrestling my pack out of the back and thanking him, several pieces of unopened mail spilled onto the parking lot, including a “Summons to Appear” from the state of Tennessee. Am confident he would get around to opening it, perhaps the next time he cleaned out his SUV?

“Hike Your Own Hike” is a bit of a mantra on the trail. It means go by your own rules, to an extent, and don’t measure yourself by other’s yardsticks. To be recognized as a thru hiker by the Appalachian Trail Conservancy, you must complete all 2192 miles in a single season, without “blue-blazing” which is taking a more direct route via a side trail, without “yellow blazing” or getting a ride in a car (an absolute sin!), and without “aqua-blazing” which is paddling a portion on an adjacent river here in Virginia. Which brings me to “slack-packing”. Slack packing means getting your heavy pack, or yourself, to some point down the trail, and hiking back or forward with only the barest essentials on your back. It involves vehicle shuttles and is often coupled with hostel stays. People can really increase their mileage per day, but to me it seems a real pain in the posterior and would greatly take away from the hike I want to have. So to this point, I have been on every white-blaze-inch of this path with all my gear, and have no plans to change. Fellow hiker “Never Better” is following this same philosophy, but he IS making use of hostels often, and shelters occasionally. His reasoning is that shelters and hostels are part of the history and the vibe of this trail, and I think he has a valid point.

Day Hikers: are people too, and they are just as much a part of the story out here as the rest of us. I met 2 delightful women over a week ago and had the pleasure of seeing them a few more times. At Carver Gap I met a family: mom from Germany, Dad from Kenya, Kid # 1 born in Canada, Kids # 2 and # 3 American, and Kid # 4 to be American when it is born in the fall. Challenged my fellow Canuck to strap on my pack... he might have been 7 or 8 years old. He staggered but he took a few successful steps!

Toenails: they really do grow back after they fall off.

Hermits: there was a time when people were scorned or shunned that they sought permanent refuge in the forest. There are numerous references along this trail to folks like this and even the odd monument. Makes me sad to think how that must have felt then, and how it must feel today.

Nick Grindstaff Monument, Iron Mtn TN
Lived as a hermit for more than 40 years

Critters that want to bite, kick, or scratch you: There was a large bear last week seen perhaps 20 minutes after I passed near Iron Mountain TN, and a cub “playing” nearby the next morning. On Friday April 15, I was descending from Big Bald Mtn and navigating a rather rocky stretch of trail. I was on the lookout for snakes as the day was quite warm and I figured prime conditions for an animal that requires sunshine and heat to regulate body temperature. I stopped to rest and get water at one point and 3 young men asked me if the Copperhead was on the trail when I passed. I had not seen anything.

Next Phase: about 3 weeks in Virginia ‘til I meet up with Pam (!!!!!) who will hike with me for a couple of days. I cannot wait to see her and show her this lifestyle and experience.

Trail Pals: I met up with Virginian Tim a few weeks back. I had not seen him for some time. He told me I was responsible for his official trail name. Weeks ago we were both at the summit of Blood Mountain in Georgia. We both left the summit to carry on, but not together. A little while later we came face to face. I was navigating by white blazes and gravity, and Tim by Guthook — a popular A.T. app. “Are you going the wrong way or am I?” asked Tim. “Pretty sure you are,” says I. And that’s the day Tim became “Wrong Way.”

Trail Names: Desie, Spicy, Name Game, Shalulah, Sam # 1, Sam # 2, Cinderella (he arrived at a vacant shelter to find an empty pair of Crocs and they fit perfectly), Lone Wolf, Legend (am told his parents met and were married on the trail), Aquaman (I met this guy Easter Sunday at Mountaineer Falls. He was southbound with a big pack, so I assumed he was doing a section hike. We chatted and he congratulated me on 400 miles. Had I known who this guy was, I would have congratulated him on 1800 miles, as he is an actual southbound thru hiker who started in Maine just after Christmas!), Brett, Detour, Black Hole (my age category who was observed in a shelter back in the storm I describe above, eating sticks of butter), Pot Holder, Waffles (from some place called Waterloo ON!), Roller, Gizmo, Loris, and Mosey.

Mountaineer Falls TN, April 17

Taking Chances in Life:

It is with regret that I learned this morning that Late Bloomer, the 71 year old woman with whom I chatted with on at least two occasions and made reference to in an earlier blog post, has had to leave the trail after "blowing out her knee'. This woman is the essence of the A.T. thru hiker... defying the odds and the skeptics (i.e. her hubby) and taking her shot. Late Bloomer, I tap my trekking poles in your honour and salute you for your "don't tell me what I can't do" attitude.

The Trail Thru Damascus

Thanks to all for your interest and supportive comments. Rest assured they keep me connected to my family, my people, and my country. I may describe some challenging moments from time to time, but am loving this opportunity and experience and know how lucky I am to be out here.

Robbie Robertson: “Little friend, I am skinnier than when I left and look a little like Santa Claus from the shoulder blades up. We will walk and play ball again soon enough.”

Pierre