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| My trusty guidebook. |
April
14, Damascus Hostel, 0.0 miles
Chris, Eric, and Bill at the hostel in Damascus.
After
a month on the trail, I decided it was time for a day off. If there ever was a
town designed for lounging around it was Damascus. It felt good to be lazy for
a day. My most strenuous activities were letter writing and grocery shopping.
By careful pacing, I was able to make it through.
Later
in the day Bill and Chris arrived, followed later by Alex and Jim. Bill, Chris,
Eric, and I got together for an activity that had been sorely neglected. After
a month on the road that beer sure tasted fine. We all sat in front of the
hostel in derelict fashion, empty beer cans scattered amongst back copies of
National Lampoon and the Rolling Stone. It’s a wonder that the people of
Damacus were able to treat us with such respect.
Probably
the best indicator of how relaxed I was is the lack of information in my
journal for the day. All I remembered was gorging at the dairy bar and working
on a vigorous tan in the hot Virginia sun.
(Reaching
Damascus, a month into the hike and almost one quarter the way through was a
major milestone for thru hikers. By this time a hiker had faced nearly all the
obstacles common to thru hikes. Damascus remains the queen of hiking towns, and
in later years would enjoy both the Virginia Creeper Rail Trail and the
Transcontinental Bike route passing through town. I’d make a hiking trip to
Damacus soon after my move to Knoxville in 1993, and Jean and I joined a
backpacking trip to nearby Grayson Highlands with our local Sierra Club group in
2012. We also made several biking trips on the Virginia Creeper rail trail
which is included in my Smokies and Blue Ridge biking guide. Amazon) 
Biking on the Creeper in 2006.
April,15,
Damascus Hostel, 12.0 miles
My pack at a quarry along the AT.
This
day had one of the weirder schedules of the trip. We woke up in the morning
planning for some day hiking. Eric was planning to go 50 miles, We had a bet of
a pint of ice cream riding on his success. Martin, Jim, and I planned on a
20-miler. However, everything does not always work out. We planned to hitchhike
out of town to an AT crossing and hike back to town. None of us got a ride.
After an hour and a half, we gave up and went back to the hostel. Soon Mr.
Trivett showed up and took us to a nearby restaurant where we bought a pretty
lousy meal.
Finally,
Martin and I took to the woods about noon. Right away we hit a relocation.
Relocations would turn out to be a frequent hassle in VA. The rumor was that
the ATC was trying to extend the AT to 2000 miles in VA alone! This relocation
was tough because it bypassed Taylors Valley and took the trail up countless
switchbacks to the top of a viewless and anonymous peak.
But
Martin and I were having a good time walking together. We both had gone to
fairly liberal private high schools. He had already been accepted to Cooper
Union in New York for college, and would go there unless he was accepted to
Yale, which he thought unlikely.
After
about 10 or 12 miles we set up Martin’s tent near a nice stream in a
rhododendron patch. No sooner was the tent up than we saw headlights up on a
nearby hill. The lure of Damascus was still strong (and I’m sure we did not
want to listen to road noise all night), so we packed up and headed for the
road. After getting directions from a helpful girl on a motorbike we got a ride
in the right direction back to Damascus. (It may be that carrying backpacks was
helpful in getting rides.)
Part
of the reason for going back to town was to surprise the other hikers with our
arrival. Eric had trouble deciding what to say. Just after our arrival Mr. and
Mrs. Trivett came by with cake and ice cream for all. I knew coming back was
the right move! The Trivetts were wonderful people and could never be fully
repaid for all their kindness to AT hikers. (I don’t think Bill and Chris or
Martin show up in my AT journal after Damascus. I would occasionally hike with
Eric but was about to start a much less crowded section of trail.)
Back
on the road again. I woke up at the hostel and hitchhiked back to the place
where Martin and I had left the trail. Martin was going to stay in town, so I
was on my own for the first time in a while. But after all that company a
little quiet time felt good.
It
took me a long time to get to Summit Cut, a distance of only 14 miles by the
fact sheet (so yes, I was using the fact sheet in this era.) The relocation
must have added a lot of miles to the trail. I didn’t mind the extra distance
because the trail was in good shape. I remembered one section where the trail
followed a dirt road and parallelled a pretty mountain stream.
However,
the people building the trail in VA didn’t believe in letting a hiker have fun
for too long. The climb up Whitetop held no mercy. It took me straight up
without regard for leg or lung. The view wasn’t much either, because of all the
haze. Just to aggravate me further the trail followed another road, then turned
off that road with no indication of where it went. But, after a bit more
walking and a few obscenities I found the markers again.
I
stopped for my last break at Elk Garden. My huge pack got the attention of some
horsemen. After being primed with a lukewarm brew I was up for some
conversation. But shortly I was back on my way. Just after leaving the road, I
passed a group of about 50 girls. Normally, I would have thought I was
hallucinating, but since I had just left town I’m sure they were real.
Deep Gap Shelter looked like a camping show in progress. I had never seen so many tents in one place in my life. There were about 30 Boy Scouts there. The group was loud and noisy, but I still managed to sleep. But I learned why most hikers feared camping with scout groups.
April
17, Raccoon Branch Shelter, 17.5 miles
Mt.
Rogers is the highest point in Virginia. That, and its excellent name, made me
eager for the climb. The summit was wooded and unimpressive. However, the north
slope of the mountain makes it a major attraction. The balds of Grayson
Highlands were a really beautiful sight. Mt. Rogers is also the last of the
southern balds on the AT.
At Mount Rogers in 1993 with John.
Good
old Eric pulled off another of his surprises. He pulled into the shelter about
9:30 (4:30?) for a rest stop. He then slept to 5:30. Since he was only going 40
miles, he conceded that he had lost our bet.
I
had my first piece of equipment fail, luckily it was a simple fix. The split
ring that held on my clevis pin, which was attached to the lower part of a
shoulder strap broke. At the moment it broke I had a vision of Danny’s pack
broken into five pieces on the floor back in Damascus. Fortunately, a safety
pin was all I needed for repair.
With Jean at Grayson Highlands in 2012.
My
day was 19 miles to Racoon Branch Shelter. I was amazed to realize that this
was the first night I had spent alone (at a shelter) on the trail. So much for
the road less travelled. I spent some time reading the trail register. There
were now only ten thru-hikers ahead of me. Dan Sullivan, of Westport,
Connecticut, was the latest dropout. He had gotten way behind on his schoolwork
and had to hitchhike to Pearisburg to finish it. 
Ponies at Grayson Highlands in 2012.
April
18, Killinger Creek Shelter, 15.2 miles
Killinger
Creek Shelter has a latrine without comparison on the AT. It was undoubtedly
the finest spot for communing with nature to be found on the entire 2000 miles.
When I had the privilege of sitting on its throne, the latrine had just been
completed. No charge extras included two rolls of toilet paper (few latrines
had even one roll, so thru-hikers always carried their own). Although the view
was mediocre, the place had atmosphere. This was a special treat, especially
after the conditions of some of the latrines in Tennessee.
The
shelter was also brand new. It had been rebuilt three miles north of the old
one, which was too close to a dirt road, and presumably was used as a party
spot and/or waste dump. The new one was in a perfect location. A beautiful
brook ran right in front of the shelter. I didn’t see anyone on the trail all
day, and there was no one else at the shelter.
By some act of stupidity, I left my journal at Deep Gap. I didn’t find another until I reached Pearisburg six days later. (Luckily my practice was to send home completed journal pages whenever I had a mail drop.) For most days I had at least scratched a few notes in the margins of my guidebook, but I had nothing for this date, which explains in part why my latrine visit is discussed in such detail.
April
19, Monster Rock Shelter, 18.5 miles
Monster Rock Shelter.
One
of my least favorite sections of the AT was Walker Mountain. It’s not really a
mountain, but more of a long ridge (I was transitioning into the ridge and
valley province). The worst feature of the mountain was lack of water. “Been
sweating hard and drinking H20 by the quart. However, the water
supply is limited today. Now I know why there are plans to relocate this whole
section. I’d give my feet for a pitcher of ice water. But my feet are in such
bad shape I doubt no one would take them.” (I’m not sure how I got this quote
with my journal missing. Water was generally less of an issue back in those
days, when giardia was not a problem and it was safe to drink untreated water
from creeks and springs.)
I
had the misfortune to reach Walker Mountain during a heat wave. Since the trail
was primarily on dirt roads there was no escaping the heat. But the heat took
away my ravenous hunger. This gave my back and legs a breather so that I could
cover my miles a little quicker. I was also feeling good that I had avoided the
rain for the last three weeks and doubted any other thru-hiker had ever been so
lucky.
This was a nineteen-mile day to Monster Rock Shelter. Reaching Monster Rock meant that 500 miles and one quarter of the trail were behind me, In honor of the occasion I walked back up to the Monster Rock Overlook to watch a beautiful sunset. Often on the trail I’d go to bed too early to see the sunset, so these exceptional ones made lasting impressions.
April
20, Turkey Gap Shelter, 10.5 miles
“I
got accepted to Dartmouth. I bet I didn’t look Ivy League walking around the
shelter in my underwear and eating dinner from a plastic bag.” Dartmouth was my
first choice for college, and I was very grateful to get in. A school with the
Appalachian Trail running through campus was the place for me. (I didn’t
typically eat in my underwear, but had everything else out drying while I had
the shelter to myself. I was having one of my Mountain House freeze-dried
dinners. These were usually in a plastic bag sealed within a foil wrapper. All
you did was add hot water to the bag and stir it in. The bags had a small
cardboard sheet that helped to hold the bag open and insulate the food.)
I
had called home from Walker Mountain Lookout and gotten the good news. Even as
I waited for the restaurant to open, I could feel how hot it would be later in
the day. After my call I sat down to celebrate with a victory breakfast. The
meal didn’t live up to my expectations, but it was better than my usual granola
and tang. I decided just to head for Turkey Gap Shelter which would give me an
eleven mile walk.
It
was typical Walker Mountain hiking, hot, dry, and dirty. The most interesting
thing I saw was a highway tunnel going through the mountain. I assume they had
spent all those extra millions to ensure the tranquility of the AT wouldn’t be
disturbed.
Appropriately,
at Turkey Gap I met set some I met some turkey hunters. Lately, the other hikers
had all been asking me how many turkeys I’d been seeing. As a change from the
usual questions about snakes, it was fine, but I hadn’t seen any yet. These
guys were friendly and treated me to some cake and an apple pie. They also
warned me about the snake that hung out by the spring.
Eric
pulled into the shelter after a 30-mile day. The Trivetts had kept him in Damascus
with several steak dinners. I didn’t recall the whole story, but it was a wild
one. Anyhow it was good to have another rummy player along to talk to.
At Turkey Gap Shelter.
April
21, Wapiti Shelter, 22.0 miles
I
hate to blame a lot of my bad planning on Eric, but he led me astray again. He
convinced me to stay with him at the abandoned church in Crandon. However, when
we got there, we found out that it had been closed due to abuse. We were bummed
out and headed over to the store to eat and decide where to go next.
We
decided to go to Wapiti Shelter which was another five miles away. Since we had
already hiked 17 miles, this was no easy decision. Soon my feet felt like they
were on fire. Nothing destroys feet like tromping around on hard pavement all
day. “I had to stop a few times and take off my boots. Anyone who might have
saw me sitting by the side of the road moaning and groaning and rubbing my feet
would have called for a straight jacket right away.” (I wonder if this was a
reoccurrence of same foot issue I had suffered earlier on the trail in NC, and which
may have been athlete’s foot?)
We
ate a Stewart sandwich (an early brand of quick serve prepared meals from a
company that my Dad had worked for briefly) and absorbed a brew at a store
close to Wapiti. The lady at the store checked my ID for the longest time and
resorted to a calculator before finally deciding that it was OK to sell me a
can of beer. My messy appearance likely didn’t help my case. After Walker
Mountain I knew the full meaning of the phrase ‘the dusty road.”
In another slight twist of fate, we saw my first wild turkey in the morning. It seemed amazing that such a large bird could get off the ground.
April
22, Pearisburg, Hostel, 19.6 miles
Couds
across the sky
Move
with the stillness of time
Soon
they will be gone
Perhaps
that haiku was the cause of our late start, or maybe it was the confusion of
the white and blue blazes north of the shelter. Anyhow, we got a late start for
the 20 miles into Pearisburg, VA. But soon it was back to the road again. But
we weren’t the only ones in the woods; a young deer bounded off through the
tangled undergrowth as we rounded a bend in the trail.
My
feet continued to give me a hard time. About a mile south of Devils Knob
shelter I put some molefoam (a brand of padding from Dr Scholls) on the ball of
my foot. This made my foot twice as sore. It hurt so badly that I just about
ran to the shelter, surprising Eric with my speed. I went so fast to keep from
yelling out. In the process I worked up a four-sandwich hunger (My usual
lunches were still a couple of PB&J sandwiches.)
The
hiking after lunch was really nice. We climbed to a beautiful overlook on
Pearis Mountain. The view was special because of the “leaf line.” Below the distinct line, all the trees were
green, above they were all still barren of leaves. There was also a nice
overlook above Pearisburg form a spot called “Angels Rest.
After
a vicious descent into Pearisburg, we arrived at a Dairy Queen. After feasting,
I went to the post office and got two packages. From there we headed up to
Father Charles’ place. I had to rest twice on the way. Father Charles’ church
was reputed to be at the highest point in town, to me it seemed like Everest.
Father Charles has become a legend on the AT. First off, we got a dinner invitation. There was only one other hiker, Bill Yeager, but there were several other church people. We showered before dinner, I think the father was anxious to see us cleaned up. By then I was a basket case, lacking the energy to stand. I’d had to sit in the shower and let the water run over me.
April 23, Pearisburg Hostel, 0.0 miles
Another
day off in the big city. Pearisburg is no New York, but it had all I needed, a
place to relax. The last few days on the trail had been my worst of the trip.
When I crawled into Pearisburg I was as close as I ever got to quitting. I
think it was only that I was too scared to quit, and couldn’t bring myself to
admit defeat.
I
think it was the kindness of Father Charles, and the comradeship of the other
thru-hikers, that kept me going. If I was by myself, I’m sure that I would have
quit. It’s important (and useful) to have someone along who can help you when
you’re feeling down. Both Father Charles and Eric helped me out.
For
breakfast Bill Yeager cooked French Toast. Then Father Charles drove him
downtown. Bill was going to hitchhike to Vermont, and then hike the northern
part of the trail. I only saw his name in the registers once.
I
dropped off my boots at a shoe repair place in town (I don’t know what the
specific issue was, possibly they needed resoling). They did a great job for
only $11. Then we went again to the Dairy Queen again and really gorged
ourselves. We just warmed up with a pint of ice cream. Then we bought groceries
and walked back to Father Charles Place. Even when I was rested it felt like a
long walk. The rest of the day was spent lounging. I reorganized some of my equipment.
Some additions included a pair of sneakers and a copy of “Walden”. I also destroyed
Eric in the quickest game of Monopoly that I had ever played.
I
guess a few words about the set-up at Father Charles are in order. His church
is a widely known place for hikers to stay for free. We slept on big foam pads
in the Sunday School rooms. For food we just whipped up a bit for community
meals. It was a nice place to stay.
