I told Adam a while back that if he did indeed decide to
hike the Appalachian trail that I would come and spend a week with him. My
resume as a hiker and backpacker is not stunning, but I do have some experience
out on the trail. I knew it would be difficult for me to go from sitting all
day to hiking with a thru-hiker, but I nevertheless set out to do just that. We
decided to meet at REI that Sunday at 11:00, as Adam was coming from Charlotte
and I was coming from Greenville (NC). We met and picked up a few obligatory
items including some maps and a stove for me. Adam bought some tights for the
trail (and yes I mean spandex/lycra pants). -->
Finally, we departed for Thunder
Ridge overlook on the blue ridge parkway where I would leave my car, a three
hour ride away. On the way we picked up some lunch and a Subway sandwich for dinner
that night. We arrived at Thunder Ridge overlook at 2:45 and found just two
other cars in the parking lot. It was somewhat overcast and I was afraid the
clouds would open up at any moment, so I pushed Adam to hurry up. I was quickly
reminded that Adam moves at his own pace. Finally, after taking the obligatory
photo at the overlook, we set off into the woods. -->
Our hike into camp was only 5
miles, with a large portion of it being downhill. Luckily for me, Adam had just
taken a two week hiatus from the trail and was wanting to ease back into
things. I was able to keep up quite well until our first significant up hill,
Highcock knob, which rises only about 600 feet from its surroundings over about
a mile.
(We began the afternoon at Thunder Ridge Overlook on the BRP. Our destination for the day was Marble Spring Just past mile 31)
[Highcock knob is so named for a legendary bear hunter who had a cabin
in this area. It is said that he had to roosters that would perch high in oak
trees to cast their crow across the valley, and thus the name high cock knob.]
As I ascended this small peak, my quads began to burn and I quietly began to
cuss this mountain under my breath. After reaching a small summit, I found Adam
sitting out on a small rock outcropping looking at his guidebook. He quickly
informed me that we were at the top and the rest of the hike was downhill into
camp. I think he was partly informing me and partly encouraging me. I thanked
my lucky stars as I struggled to catch my breath. I decided to push on instead
of breaking, thinking that I could possibly beat Adam into camp. Instead, I
quickly discovered that Adam had not been the most astute orienteersman as I
found that the trail continued steeply upward right past where I had found
Adam. Again, he passed me as I laboriously climbed until reaching the top.
Finally, I was on the downhill section. We arrived at the Marble Springs
campsite between 5:30 and 6:00, a pace which is not bad for an unseasoned
backpacker. We quickly set up camp and ate the sub sandwiches that we had
packed in for our first dinner. Not long after dinner, we gathered our water
bottles and hiked a short distance down to the spring that is right outside of
camp. This was an interesting water source in that it was only a small trickle
coming out of the side of the hill and after only 30 feet or so disappeared
back into the mountain through a sieve of sand and rocks. We quickly filled our
water bottles – Adam used a squeeze filter to purify his water and I opted for
the lazier (and safer) tablets to treat my water.
(This is Adam using his squeeze purifier at another camp. Sorry for poor quality - it was raining)
While hiking back into camp, we
began hearing thunder and a curt drizzle beckoned a strong downpour. We spent
the next hour and a half in the tents until the rain stopped. I sat in my tent
looking at the map and reading about the Appalachian trail in my guidebook.
During this time, I realized my tent was not as waterproof as it had once been.
Notably, several of the seams were leaking and rainwater was beginning to pool
between the groundcloth and the tent floor (this was a result of poor tent
pitching as I had left the groundcloth edge exposed to the runoff from the rainfly).
Once the weather broke for a few minutes we gathered back outside and hung our
bear bags and brushed our teeth. Shortly after, the rain settled back in for
the night and we headed off to bed.
The next morning, I arose early determined to be a better
hiker than I had been the day before. It was no longer raining, but was
overcast and a heavy fog had settled in. I packed my wet tent and damp sleeping
bag into my damp backpack. I quickly packed the rest of my gear and was ready
to start hiking as Adam emerged from his tent. So, I set off without Adam but
thought for sure he would pass me soon. The trail today was mostly flat with
some downhills, but no significant uphills. I made good time on the flat part
and was feeling strong. After an hour into my hike, the rain started back up
and would not stop until camp. I found a long stretch of wild blueberries and
stuffed a few in my mouth as I went along. Soon, I arrived at the James river.
This is the longest river in Virginia, and coincidentally, also the site of the
longest footbridge on the Appalachian Trail. I stopped here, thinking Adam was
right around the corner and we could cross the bridge together.
After 30
minutes, I strapped my backpack back on and finished the next couple miles to
John’s Hollow Shelter without Adam. [John’s Hollow (pronounced holler) is named
after a local hermit who was known to live in this area. It is supposedly well
known for its abundance of wildflowers, although we did not see any while
there] Upon arrival, I met a young lady there with a thick Australian accent
who went by the trail name of “Wombat” [On the Appalachian trail, hikers do not
use their given names. Instead they use aliases often dubbed “trail names”.
These are often given to them by other hikers or simply assumed on their own.
Adam’s name is “Zeus”]. She is a physical education teacher from Australia who
was hiking for a few days before going to a wedding. Soon, Adam showed up and
Wombat headed out. The clouds finally gave way to blue sky and we set out
drying our wet clothes and gear on a clothesline behind the shelter.
(Adam drying stuff out at John's Hollow)
Since we
had gotten into camp before lunch, we had quite a bit of time to burn. I spent
my time going down to the creek and washing up, reading about the section of
trail we were to hike the next day, playing solitaire, and whittling. Adam
spent most of his time in a novel.
For dinner, we each had a Mountain House
meal of beef stroganoff, which was quite good. We were by ourselves in camp that
night, and I was glad we decided to stay in the shelter as it once again began
to rain.
The next morning, I once again beat Adam out of camp and
began a difficult uphill climb. On this day, we had a 2000 foot climb directly
out of our camp.
(Our hike for the day was from John's Hollow Shelter to Punchbowl Shelter. The elevation gain between horizontal lines is 500 ft.)
I definitely wanted to get a head start on Adam, as I was sure
he would quickly pass me on the uphill portion. Well, I reached the top of our
initial ascent and decided to wait for Adam, as I was feeling a little guilty
about not actually hiking with him. After about 45 minutes, he finally emerged
from below me. Come to find out, he had left an hour after I had. We continued
to ascend up Rocky Row mountain. It had been raining all morning, but now all
hell broke loose. An absolute deluge drenched us for the next two hours. I
swear I have stood in the shower and been drier. Every inch of me was soaked.
It rained so hard that many of the smaller trees bent over, unable to withstand
the onslaught. [Later I learned that the record daily rainfall total was set in
nearby Blacksburg and Roanoke.] Finally, somewhere before our ascent of Bluff
mountain, the pouring rain gave way to a measly drizzle. We ascended Bluff
mountain and just before the summit we paid our respects to little Ottie Cline
Powell.
(Internet photo of the marker near the summit of Bluff Mountain memorializing the place where the four year old Ottie Cline Powell's body was found)
[Ottie Powell was a four year old from the 1800s who wandered away from
his schoolhouse while collecting firewood in November. Despite an extensive
search, his body was not recovered until the next April at the summit of Bluff
mountain. He is said to haunt nearby Punchbowl shelter, our shelter for the
evening. You can read the story here:
http://blueridgecountry.com/archive/favorites/ottie-cline-powell/]
We arrived at the summit of the mountain, which is known for its breathtaking
vistas. The only thing breathtaking for me was how drenched I was at the
moment, as the mountain was still socked with fog. Soon, we began our descent
to Punchbowl shelter. [Punchbowl shelter is so named for the small pond in its
front yard.-->
(Notice the small pond. Picture taken from the from of Punchbowl Shelter)
It is said to be haunted by Ottie Powell, and fittingly, there was
a child’s sleeping bag laid out nicely for him in the shelter.] It was mostly
downhill and we arrived in short time. We were the first ones there, and
quickly set our wet clothes out to dry on a clothesline erected inside the
shelter. It soon began to pour again and we hunkered inside the shelter for the
rest of the evening. That evening we would meet a gentleman from Staunton VA and
a mother-son duo from Connecticut who were thru-hiking.
The next morning, it continued to rain (see a trend here?)
and we set out on our mostly flat hike to Brown Mountain Creek Shelter. This
hike was quite easy and we made good time. Much of the walk is alongside a
large reservoir and a protected demonstration forest. It drizzled most of the
time, but we were able to dry out a little bit from the day prior. Just as soon
as our shoes were starting to dry out, we came to a stream crossing that was
swollen from days of rain and were forced to submerge our shoes in the water –
once again we were walking in sopping shoes. Soon we found ourselves along the
Brown Mountain Creek, and later in the Brown Mountain Creek Shelter.-->
[Brown
Mountain Creek Valley was once inhabited by a black sharecropping community.
The remnants of their stonewalls and buildings are still evident.] The rain
stopped for a few hours and I was thankful to not spend the entire afternoon in
the shelter. Instead I walked around the camp, skipped rocks, and washed off in
the creek. I also worked on gently stretching my Achille’s tendon which had
begun to bother me. That afternoon it began to downpour once again, and I was
relegated to spending my time in the shelter. Later that evening, we were
joined by three other thru hikers – Strider, Wilderness, and ??? – who spoke
candidly about their experiences on the trail and how much they enjoyed hiking
in the rain. This was a notion that I thought was BS, but I let them enjoy
their caterwauling without interfering.
It continued to rain throughout the night and was drizzling
the next morning. This was the last day on the trail for me, and we had been
told it was supposed to clear up today. Again, I was the first one up and
quickly packed up my things. I had tossed and turned all night and had not
slept well, so I was ready to get moving and head to our pick up point.
Originally, we had planned to head to Spy Rock Rd., about 20 miles from Brown
Mountain Creek, but we decided to have the family pick us up at Salt Log Gap, a
mere 10 miles from the current location. I began walking, although my pace was
slow due to left Achille’s pain. The hike was uphill for the first five miles
and was the most difficult hike I had while on the trail. After many false summits,
I reached the 4,000+ ft Bald knob, whose summit is ironically forested. This
was a total of 2500 feet of elevation gain since camp, and I was glad to have
it behind me. Next we descended to Cow Camp Gap and then began our ascent of
Cold Mountain. In contrast to Bald Knob, Cold Mountain has a bald summit and
would have had great views if it had not been raining and foggy.-->
[Cold Mountain
used to be a grazing ground for cattle, and since then encroachment by the
forest into the meadows has threatened the open peaks of this mountain. Selective
burning and mowing are being used to keep this summit open.] After Cold
Mountain we descended to Hog Camp Gap and eventually made our way to Salt Log
Gap, our pickup point. While waiting for our pickup to arrive, the clouds
cleared and the sun came out for the first time in a few days. The bitter irony
was that as soon as my hike had ended, the good weather had come. Finally, our
family arrived and we headed to Wintergreen resort for a nice weekend vacation.
--Phillip Bostian, July 2013
