New Trail: Appalachian Trail Conservancy (Harper's Ferry) to Rt. 522 (Front Royal)

Shenandoah River form Rt. 340 Bridge

Date: January 30 - February 2

Where: Blue Ridge Mtns. between Harper's Ferry, WV and Front Royal, VA

Duration: 4-day (72 hour outing)

Length: 53.2 m

With more balmy weather forecast and a light level of commitments (none) a mid-winter AT trek was too tempting to pass up.  So I set aside four days to complete this section to add to my VA miles.  On Monday I drove over to Front Royal and parked in the same AT parking spot I used on my last hike near the Smithsonian Conservation Biology Institute formerly know as the National Zoo's Conservation and Research Center on Rt. 522 with the plan of hitchhiking up to Harper's Ferry to pick up the trail near the Headquarters of the ATC and backpacking back. Time was 9:30a. Ben picked me up and we connected immediately because he had spent some time at Woodley outside of Orange on Rt. 15 as a youth and was kin to some Orange County folk I know.  He took me through FR to north of I-66.  At bit later, Jeff, an under-the-weather middle school exceptional ed teacher who had left school early, took me further along to where 522 and 340 split; I needed to proceed north on 340 to HF. Robert, a youngish Latino lad picked me up in an ailing Toyota Celica and off we went up 340. I asked how far he was going and he mentioned some indefinite work he had lined up in that area; his English was good but something was missing in the communication. When I asked more specifically if he could take me all the way he said he was going that way, so yeah. Our conversation picked up and I surmised he had been in country for 13 years but under dubious circumstances, so I did not press more. We stopped for gas and I offered $ to help out; I suspected some cash was much needed since a delightful picture of two children was fitted to the dash. He was exceedingly grateful and took me all the way to the steps of the ATC. After a farewell and God-bless I spent some time in the office checking out AT stuff and receiving the 50 cent tour from a volunteer. I walked the side (blue-blazed) trail from the ATC down into the river gorge and intersected the AT north of the 340 bridge over the Shenandoah River at about 12:15p, somewhat earlier than expected given the distance of my hitch-hike. I was on the trail.

Day 1: ATC to Blackburn Trail Center (PATC), 12.5 miles, 5 hrs, gorgeous weather. After a pretty steep pull out of the river basin to the south, the trail followed a set of ridges with gradual ascents and descents. The trail was rockier than usual so that slowed things a bit but I still made good enough time to push past the first shelter (that was my default if my hitchhiking took longer) to the hiker hostel at this well-developed retreat. The only person I met on the trail came across WVA Rt. 9 at Key's Gap while I was taking a breather and leaving M a text: a lithe and spritely young lady pushing for home somewhere in Maryland. At the hostel I met the winter caretaker, an ATC boundary tech. who, among other things, is one of the guys who applies those ubiquitous white blazes that mark the AT. He directed me to the little house that had two over/under bunks and a small wood stove with a stocked box of dry wood. Warm dining, reading, and sleep.  I made good progress today, but tomorrow will present a number of challenges.

Hiker Hostel

PATC Retreat Center

Day 2: Blackburn Trail Center to Rod Hollow ATC Shelter, 17.5 miles, 11 hrs, another gorgeous day, rocky terrain. Since I was packing no tent, I had planned to stay in shelters along the AT. In order to balance the miles for the remainder of the trek, I really needed to do those miles on Tuesday or I would be facing a hurried end to the hike. I was aware of what stood before me and that shelter: The Roller Coaster. Because the AT passes through private lands hereabouts, the trail is sometimes "pushed" away from what might (or used to be) a better offering. Such is the case through this stretch were the trail is forced down from the ridges so that it transects the hollows, necessitating a series of steep up and downs as one moves down toward the inevitable stream coursing through the lowest part of the hollow and then back up over a ridge extending down from the main ridge and, like a roller coaster down again (and of course up). The elevation of this section of trail was essentially the same at the beginning and end: 1500 ft above sea level, but the trail ascended and descended 11 times in the 17.5 mile span. If you total the elevation change of the ups, it comes to 4200 feet, which means 4200 feet of down. "Nuff said." It took much longer than I expected and I did not arrive into the shelter until 6:15p, and yes it was pretty much dark. I was never so glad to see the sign marking the turn off to the shelter, a short trail in, and the log lean-to appearing out of the gloaming. I was beat and agitated, but had completed 30 of my 53.2 miles with two days to go. I did receive some welcome feedback: I met "beagle girl" as I was on my first ascent after Snicker's Gap, VA Rt. 7. She passed me on a day hike with her dog and we greeted each other. She mentioned the "straight up" ahead across a couple of streams; she was right. I trudged along at my seemingly snail's pace (you just have to keep moving now matter how slowly) and at the top of the first big ascend (an overlook with splendid views) there she sat with the pooch. She exclaimed as she saw me, "You are on some impressive pace, it took me the better part of a day just to make the first up!" I stopped a moment, hydrated and then moved on. After a bit she passed me again on to the next height. I continued trudging. I meet her a few hours later after a number of ups and downs as she was on her return, she stopped and asked if I were going to the next shelter a mile or two away, but I replied I was pushing on to Rod Hollow. Her moth dropped open and she stated emphatically, "that is some serious backpacking!" So as slow as I might think I am, that fact that I rarely stop for long, and push through those ups proves that "slow and steady wins the race."

Sunrise 

Out of a hollow

Bottom of a hollow

Welcome sight (the morning after)

Day 3: Rod Hollow to Manassas Gap, 13.5 miles, 7 hrs, absolutely glorious day, shorts and a tee-shirt. Compared to yesterday, today's hike was a walk-in-the-park. Gradual rises and falls and a much smoother trail. Sacked in a bit in the morning, out by 8:00a and into camp at 3:00p. Not soon after I arrived, Doug, a local man who lived up the mountain but gentrified walked in while I was unpacking and enjoying the daylight at rest. We chatted on and off for the better part of an hour while I was performing my chores, he reading the trail logbook in the shelter, and regaling me of his hunting exploits and his fascination with "Bigfoot."  He was welcome company on a day with little interaction. I relaxed more than any time on this trek, while I listened to the road traffic plying through Manassas Gap on VA Rt. 55, a scant two miles away. But most comforting was the sound of freight (probably coal for export going east) being hauled over the mountain by diesels on rails. There must have been at least two grade level crossings because I was lulled to sleep by the whistle sound of four blasts: short, short, long, short that signify such an intersection.

Rt 50 at Ashby Gap 

Sky Meadows

Sky Meadows

Smooth Trail

Last Night

Day 4: Down to Rt 522, 10.5 miles, 6 hrs, started with a steady drizzle of rain, ended in bright sunshine. Since I knew I could be in rain all day and wanted to get back to Richmond before dark, I wanted to get started as early as possible so I was up and waiting for enough light to head out. In drizzle, I began at 6:30a with scant light due to fog and clouds. I picked my way carefully over the  wet, rocky bits and averted a number of falls with those incomparable and indispensable hiking sticks. The day brightened as I hiked. I held a conservative but steady pace, until the misty shroud cleared and picked up the pace as the trail descended a lovely three miles into Chester Gap, Rt 522. Of note is that as I was sorting things out at my truck I spied three younger looking folk walking down the north side of 522 toward Front Royal and looking out of place, not locals, and moving with purpose. They approached the truck beside mine at the parking spot where the AT crosses 522 and we struck up some conversation. The close-by Smithsonian Conservation Biology Institute, formerly the Conservation and Research Center of the National Zoo, which has fenced property on both sides of 522 extending for acres was their balliwick. They informed me of the Center's purpose and their roles as biologists. They had been on a four-hour hike collecting data and observing some ecological aspects of the area. Bright, young, enthusiastic minds, loving their profession and the opportunity to pursue interesting research: tax dollars well spent. They asked about my hike; upon my response their collective eyes widened with respect for an old man who was in his element as well: a fitting end to a most enjoyable adventure.

What a trail! 

Yes, that is definitely up.

"One Misty, Moisty, Morning"

A bright, sunny midday at trail's end

Reflection: One with my pack, one with my boots, one with the trail, one with nature, and one with God. Life is so, so good.

New Trail: Beahms Gap to Rt. 522 (Front Royal)

Date: January 7 & 8
Where: Shenandoah National Park around Skyline Drive MP 28 to north end of park near Front Royal, VA

Weather: Mostly sunny, 40s to start, near 60 in the afternoon on Day 1, 30 at night, near full moon, mid 40s on Day 2, bright sunshine

Length: 24.5 m

Elevation change: Beahms Gap - 2500'; Hog Back Mtn - 3500'; Gravel Springs Hut - 2700'; North Marshall Mtn - 3500'; Rt 522 - 1000'

Duration: Day 1, 5 hours of hiking; Day 2, 6 hours 

It's been a while since my last hike; what with holidays and family events, some happy, some sad, this hike was twice delayed. But perseverance and the beckoning of fabulous weather for January lured me out last weekend, so that I could complete the AT section within the SNP. I  have now completed a contiguous section of AT from Rt. 60 near Buena Vista, VA, north to Rt. 522, a total of 160 miles. When I add the 60 miles I have hiked around Hot Springs, NC that puts me just over 10% of the trail. I still have a long way to go but plans are brewing for longer trips, further from home. I feel like I am becoming more fit for backpacking with my regular walks at home and these "training" hikes. I want to be able to go out on any given day and hike with full pack between 15 and 20 miles, depending on terrain, and then get up the next day and do it again, and again, and again.

Day 1: Left home around 6:30a and with highway driving thanks to President Eisenhower made it over to Front Royal by 9 o'clock. I checked out the relationship between the trail crossing at 522 and the park entrance for logistics (5 mile separation), parked off road at 522, caught a ride with Corey, a local boy with some crazy tats, all the way to the entrance of the park and the Skyline Drive.  Paid my $5 entrance fee and walked up to the kiosk to obtain my backcountry camping permit - I love the sound of that. Since I had planned to stay in the Gravel Springs Hut, 11.5 m from Beahms Gap, I assembled my "speed" pack, consisting of a large day pack with hydration system, no tent, a minimum amount of essential gear, and some food to see what kind of pace I could accomplish. 

John and Olympus picked me up as they passed through the park entrance within about 20 minutes or so.  They had planned a day circuit hike around MP 12 and offered to take me that far. We talked about hiking, the mountains, Springfield, art, family, dogs, Asheville, the beauty of the out-of-doors, and our common joy of just being out in it. John went the extra mile(s) and drove me all the way south to MP 28 and let me out at the trailhead; it is 10:30a and I am ready to go. Love those trail angels.

Being a Saturday and fine weather I fully expected to see a number of folk and as the day wore on I encountered a variety of day hikers. The terrain was not particularly challenging; those ups are getting easier and  finding that pace that modulates the blood pounding in my ears and closed-mouth respirations is becoming natural. I pace myself so I essentially never have to stop but stop when I want to, usually about every hour or so for hydration and sustenance, and I rarely sit down or take off my pack. Catching a view lasts a minute or two just resting on my hiking sticks.

Clouds did crowd out the sun and a few raindrops fell, but nothing deterred me from my quest for a early arrival at Gravel Springs Hut. Open ridge trails predominated and with no leaves; vistas were plentiful. At one point there was a view where just beyond the mountain behind me there were 5 ridges piled one atop the other to the horizon, all shrouded in those magnificent shades of blue. I arrived at Gravel Springs Hut about 3:30p, feeling so fine and not particularly worn out, though I had hiked vigorously (I am in training) after having an extremely enjoyable day so far. Following are a number of photos that tell the tale better than I can.

Gravel Springs lived up to its name, easily one of the most productive springs I have encountered on the AT. Time to get out the old MSR ceramic water filter and fill up. Sweet delight!  George and Andreas were already in residence, but had pitched their one-mans away from the hut. Two park rangers strolled up as I was unpacking in the shelter and we had a good chat: tax money well spent. They were out walking trails and keeping an eye on things. We talked about the unfortunate and untimely shooting death of a ranger near Mr. Rainer; those guys (and girls) put their lives on the line everyday and for them I am exceedingly grateful. My dinner buddies are part of a local hiking club, both retired, and we shared stories, gear talk, and chocolate around the warmth of a fire, banked to throw heat into the shelter. Bedtime 8:00p. A near full moon blessed the evening with stark shadows of barren hardwood limbs.

Day 2: Up and out by 7:30a with a quick so long to my buddies and an eagerness to hike the 14 miles to 522 by early afternoon. Another beautiful but not so balmy day; kept my stocking cap, gloves, and hoody on all day. The trail was even less arduous on this day with long stretches of flat ridge walks and tree lined soft paths. At one point I encountered large downed trees from, I suppose, one of the those ice storms in decades past that put many across the trail. Some dedicated trail maintenance crews worked many an hour and hauled some serious gear to clear the way. The clearing process was evident for at least a mile with as many as 100 downed trees requiring a cut through. That's a bunch of volunteer manpower.  The trail for most of the trip criss-crosses the Skyline Drive so development never seemed too far away this not being a remote part of the trail.  But near the end the AT veers east out of the SNP onto private lands on its way down to 522. Not long after leaving the park I heard gunshots to the west.  
After a rather steep descent the trail leveled off and a fence appeared on the west side. This 8 foot high chain link fence continued for at least two miles, all the way down to Sloan Creek on the south side of 522. This was some major investment as it followed a twisting hollow out of the mountain onto open farmland. I tried to imagine what kind of equipment was necessary to install that monster. Grapevines are attempting (and will probably succeed) to eventually take it down in this area. I crossed the creek with Lake Front Royal to the east and found the Ranger safely lodged in the parking area along 522. I decided to take the scenic route back to Richmond and headed south on 522 through Culpeper, Unionville, Mineral, Cuckoo, and Ferncliff, before hopping on 1-64 East. Feeling good! An amazing weekend on my favorite trail.

A Garden Tour: Pied-à-Terre

Pied-à-terre is a french expression that literally means "feet to the ground", but linguistically refers to a small city dwelling that is like a home-away-from-home, more than likely used perodically to ease longer distance commuting during the work week. The expression can be generally applied to any second home or getaway. So, such is the moniker we chose for our house in Orange. Rewind to 1985: when my father retired from teaching at OCHS he and mom were still living in the Main Street house on the corner of Landon Lane where I lived as a high schooler and summer resident during my college days. They had a relationship with an elderly lady  down the street who was in a nursing home. Her desire had been for her house to pass on to them at her death but she sped up the process (not dying but the transfer of the house) and my folks moved in about a year later. Since then our family has enjoyed many memorable events there, one of particular note was the reception following the marriage of the youngest which took place in the garden in the back of the house. The family has diminished over time due to age and illness and now M and I are the sole proprietors and still enjoying place. 

A dear friend and I were standing out back the other evening and she commented on the beauty of the view and how the back porch was arranged. When I am there alone I usually work like a Trojan and miss those beautiful moments, but two days later, I was mowing the 2 acres of lawn, most of which is in the back arranged in a set of three descending terraces and beyond them what we lovingly call the "lower 40." The angle of the sun cast remarkable shadows so when I finished I was compelled to capture this particular moment. The photos came out OK for an amateur so why not share them? Following is a sequence of pictures beginning on the steps of the back porch, and proceeding down through the center boxwoods, the terraces, the lower 40, and then back up the south lane around the terraces to the shop and house.

The last picture is "Papa's Shop". When mom and dad moved in it was a small garage at the end of the drive and my dad converted into his workshop by adding the ell to the right in place of the garage door and the porch in front with the curved roof. You may have noticed (go back if you missed it) the same curved roofline on the back porch which my folks also added so they could sit and enjoy the view. Many a leisurely hour has passed on that porch and scads of friends have been entertained there as well. The ever-present hill viewed from west to east from the back is appropriately called "Henry's Hill", or at least as far as those who did the porch sitting were concerned. My mom and dad loved that view and never let the spell of a beautiful moment escape them. I have some practicing to do.

New Trail: Allen Gap to Devil's Fork Gap

Date:  October 21, 2011

Where: Tennessee - North Carolina Border near Hot Springs

Weather: Mostly sunny, 40s to start, breezy, pleasant in the afternoon

Length: 20.2 m

Elevation change: Allen Gap - 2200' to Camp Ball Creek 4700' in 6.6 m; ridge trail to Big Butt Mtn -  4838', then down to Devil's Fork gap - 3100'.

Duration: 10 hours of hiking 

My 91 year-old mother-in-law is a North Carolina girl, who grew up in Hot Springs, attended Tusculum College in Greenville, TN, taught English in Asheville, NC then moved around a bit in Virginia after the war before returning to the old home place (which never left the family) in Hot Springs. That being so, as my life transected M's, we found ourselves in that house beside Spring Creek every summer and often on holidays. If you did not know, Hot Springs is one of the few towns with the distinction of having the AT run right sack dab through the middle of it and if that were not enough the French Broad river plows through the mountains with this town straddling. The intersection of these features along with what used to be the main road over the mountains from Asheville to Tennessee made for a spot I loved the first time I went there with M to be introduced to her grandmother prior to our marriage (needed a blessing). And I would venture that my time spent there with her family and our own expanding one (girl-boy-girl) deepened my appreciation for the out-of-doors and especially the AT (see earlier posting on Max Patch).

Fast-forward a bit - MIL is an 11 year a resident of a retirement community in Asheville (A.K.A. palace) and the house with the sleeping porch overlooking (and overhearing) Spring Creek is in another's hands. Battles raged to see who would get to sleep out there at night. I usually prevailed with random ankle-biters vying for the uncomfortable leftovers. Even when the day was torrid, an extra covering was required to comfortably enjoy the nighttime hours - love those cool mountains.

So last week M and I drove down (check out M's fine Swedish wheels) to Asheville for MIL's birthday and hooked up with some other family. Now there was a 20.2 m stretch of trail sandwiched between sections I had previously hiked that I wanted to complete and I figured with a small pack it could make a pleasant but challenging hike - I am still in training for the longer hikes since I want to be able to do 20 m on any day at any time. So the plan was to borrow MIL's Park Ave., drive two cars over to Devil's Fork Gap, park the Park, have M take me over to Allen Gap to start my trek and then she would return to Asheville. Then it is up to me to make my way back to DFG where my ride awaited. We left A'town before light but the trip took a bit longer so it was 8:30am before I actually started the hike, but with light until 7:00pm I should be fine if all goes well.

Untouched by human hands

In reflection this had to be one of the most enjoyable days I have ever spent on the trail; the weather was near perfect and the variation in the trail from meadow to ridge to light canopy was astounding. I had plenty of time and could enjoy myself. The pictures will tell the tale. Being a Friday I encountered a few folk earlier in the day and many more as evening approached. The Flint Gap Shelter a mere 2.7 m from DVG was overflowing as I passed; I felt a bit sorry for the other 5 hikers I passed all of whom asked me about the occupancy level. But what could one expect - this was the peak color weekend and the weather was hiker perfect.

Some things worth noting: after the first 6 m ascent the trail developed along a ridge that is also the demarcation between NC and TN; this had to be one of the most amazing ridge walks I have experienced in years; due to the lack of leaves on the trees which colorfully covered the trail the views were expansive; the scattered clouds dappled the mountainsides and valleys; there were two high elevation meadows with lush ground cover; no bugs other than a few butterflies. This trail with a few mild up and downs persisted for about 12 m and then dropped gradually into DFG. How delightful is that. 

I did have two watch-carefully-for-that-AT-white-blaze episodes. A hiker cannot depend on what appears to be the obvious path since at times an abrupt change in the trail can occur. At one point the trail broke out of some woods onto a fire road and appeared to continue at a slight slant on the opposite side with no obvious signs indicating otherwise, but after a few hundred yards I realized the absence of any blazes. I backtracked to the road as two gents were coming out where I had some minutes ago headed across the road like I did. Woah, I said, this ain't the trail. Collectively we viewed left and right along the road and spied a faint blaze 20 yards down. We headed that way and the road was the trail for a good quarter mile before a double-blaze clearly indicated a departure. No great damage. Later when I was on the steepest part of the downhill 5 m from the end I noticed out of the corner of my eye a log along the left side of the trail but took no serious notice and continued on down the straight path. I was making good time and so sure I was on the trail and watching closely so to get each footfall secure that I was not blaze conscious. When I awoke to a lack of memory as to the last blaze I felt foolish, then when I spied a NO TRESPASSING sign and an open unmarked meadow I was angry with myself. I trudged back up the trail at least a quarter mile with no memory of where I could have gotten off. As I approached that log I had seen earlier that was now on the right side I noticed a trail and a post with a blank board  attached where I expect at one time there had been some kind of marking visible on the downhill. Anger dissipated, relief flooding in, legs shaking, I sat on that log to regain the peacefulness that comes with the regular presence of those little vertical stripes of white however faded they can become. Those misses cost me about an hour so with the remaining daylight fading into dusk I heard motor vehicles climbing into the pass and knew I was close. Shortly thereafter the terrain manifested the upcoming gap and I sprang out of the woods close to the Park Ave, as always the ride is a welcome sight. Even after such a glorious day my body would have protested any further exertion. My hiking day was done.

SNOW

 

 

New Trail: Crabtree Farm Road (Rt. 826) to Long Mountain Wayside (Rt. 60)

Trail Head

Date:  August 23 & 24, 2011

Where: Near Blue Ridge Parkway (BRP) between Crabtree Falls Meadow and Rt. 60

Weather: Mostly sunny, 60s to start, breezy, pleasant in the afternoon

Length: 20.0 m plus 6 m to access trail head

Elevation change: 3500 feet at trail head with some ups and downs until descent to Rt. 60 at about 2000 feet.

Duration: 14 hours of hiking 

I had hiked from the Tye River across the Priest to the meadow at the top of Crabtree Falls some time ago so I wanted to add some miles to the south end of this VA stretch. My plan was to hike further down the trail to BRP milepost 51.7, a total of 30 m, but a little earthquake changed my plans.

One of the challenges of hiking the AT are the logistics of getting on and off the trail; this is exacerbated for section hikers because we do this more than a thru-hiker who stays on the trail for extended periods of time before taking a day off in a town near the trail. I am dependent on people being willing to pick up me and my pack where I plant my truck at the end of my hike and deliver me to a more convenient place to access the trail. So I left my truck at BRP 51.7 (Punchbowl Mtn.) and caught a ride with Jeff and Mike at about noon on Tuesday (I had a meeting with my VASS lady at Wintergreen in the morning so I had a later start.) They took me all the way to Rt 56 which crosses the BRP near Crab Tree Falls. These were good ole boys from Lynchburg doing some roofing on a friend's cabin. I could tell they warmed up to me quickly because soon after I had climbed into the rear section of the extended cab they settled into their country vernacular heavy with cheek-reddening vocabulary. The most common description of any variety of humankind was motherf...er and I wondered if the guys realized what a society based on this lifestyle would look like.  O well, they are still angels in my book. With that great provision I had hoped I could find rides down the mountain on Rt 56 to Rt 826, the road that goes into the meadow above Crab Tree Falls and the AT. Nope, I ended up having to backpack all the way into the trail head, a distance of 6 m and Rt 826 was not kind to me, gravel, yes, but pitched up nearly the entire way. I was pretty much beat by the time I reached the trail head at 3:45 pm. During this time there was that little shakeup in Mineral; I felt nothing except the weight of my pack and the heat in my feet.

After a brief rest and snack I set out for the Seely-Woodworth shelter a mere 5.6 m away. The terrain was fairly level and I began to enjoy the hike since I was now cranking on some AT miles (those access miles don't count if you are counting - and I am) and felt pretty good. Communication on the trail is another challenge; with the seemingly ubiquitous mobile phone coverage in our expansive land there are still many places without service, so letting M know what's up is spotty. She does worry about me being on the trail alone which is understandable. I have found that if I know people are worried about me and they have not heard from me in a while then I feel some anxiety which is just the opposite of my desire for a trail experience. But this is a reality we have to learn to deal with, so occasionally I will turn on my phone and hike for a while possibly passing into a service area where I will hear the distinctive "plunk" of a text message. So it was as I made my way down the trail that I received a message from M stating "earthquake in Mineral, chimney fell at house in Orange, call when you can." Ouch! Now I have a host of things on my mind, all of which translate into "what do I do now that I am more than 25 miles from my journey's end two days from now?" I try calling but no service. I have seen nary a soul so far except for that bear crashing through brush off to the left of the trail. Am I having any fun now? I reach the shelter at 7:00 pm pretty wound up and indecisive. Out comes the mobile and providence smiles with service. I contact M, we chat and the world seems brighter even though darkness is settling in with the sun dipping behind the ridge. I decide I should abbreviate my trip, go by Orange, check out the damage and then back to Richmond on Wednesday (I have a meeting on Thursday night - which had been the last day of my hike).

Considered options were to complete my hike as planned, go to Orange and then try to make it back to Richmond in time for my meeting or to hike 14 m tomorrow to get me to the intersection of the trail and Rt 60 near Buena Vista, hoping to catch a ride back up to the BRP and south 6 m to my truck resting place. I had planned this trip to be somewhat leisurely and now I am going to have to hightail it to leave time for logistics. The solitary shelter sleep was punctuated by night sounds and the presence of an adventuresome field mouse practiced at inspecting every part of my gear for food (or something to chew). I had religiously hung by bear bag so no morsels existed in or around my stuff. I heard him (or her) skittering and scratching and two times shone my flashlight to encourage departure to regions unknown. Silly me, no sooner had I settled back into my cocoon and he was back. I figured that after a while he would give up since there was no food, so I drifted off to the sounds of his investigation. I was up at first light and off by 7:00 am with an expectation of finishing by 2:00 pm.
With that far to go in a short time and much weighing heavy on my mind, I pretty much hustled all the way and, therefore, did not enjoy the trip as planned. The brightest spot along the trail was at a place called Ball Knob (I think) which was an expansive area that had just been recently mowed, so unlike the rest of the overgrown trail, there was much more to see, save the fact that fog rolled in from time-to-time and then cleared in amazingly short order. The trail was blazed on posts and rocks for the lack of trees. Further on there were abundant wildflowers and the weather was fine for hiking. My descent to Rt 60 was more pleasant than my trail map indicated with well-designed switchbacks, nonetheless, due to my Olympian pace, I worked up some blisters on the balls of my feet; still a tenderfoot, just have to keep training. The boots are fine, I just need to watch those hot spots. As I neared the termination of my hike I could hear the sound of diesels humming as 18-wheelers made the ascent over the pass going west into Buena Vista; with this much traffic hitching a ride should not have been a problem. I arrived at the Long Mountain Wayside, a lovely lay-by in the pass, set out my pack on the side of the road and chilled under some nearby trees. 
After about 30 minutes a Chevy 10 pickup making painful objections to climbing the pass slowed and pulled into the wayside. Danny (man) and Tom (small dachshund) invited me in, so with pack hefted into the truck bed, otherwise full of other man's treasures, we set out. They were going to Buena Vista, so I would be making it to the BRP. This was the best part of the entire trip. Sputtering for need of a fuel filter that would pass the amount of gas needed to ascend we crept up the mountain, Danny gingerly manipulating the gas pedal for fear of a stall and Tom on my lap taking in the breeze with his head out the window in the fashion most enjoyed by canines. Tom was most agreeable with my presence and allowed all manner of stroking and petting while the breeze held his ears out at 90 degrees to his head; he could have flown. Danny and I chatted about the earthquake, trucks, and divine providence. As we approached the BRP he asked where I was going and when I said: a few miles south, he said: I can take you down there, that woman in Buena Vista that keeps calling me to come help will just have to wait a while. Once on the BRP the truck kept cutting off going downhill, but Danny just put the aging transmission in neutral, engaged the starter and as predictable as the mileposts along the side of the road the engine roared (uh whimpered) to life. Danny did not have a care in the world and knew that his ride was not going to let me down. We pulled into the Punchbowl Overlook at about 3:00 pm and my truck was welcoming me with implied impatience (where have you been?) Off to Orange, chimney inspection, and home.
Reflections: I learned a few things on this outing: first, it is not prudent to plan a trip that has obligations as bookends - I planned and squeezed a hike into an available time slot between two meetings - a hike needs to be able to have a schedule that can breathe, take an extra day if one desires to; secondly, communication on the trail (or lack thereof) brings anxiety - how long has it been since I talked to someone? what is happening back home? how many people are worrying about me being out here all alone? what obligations require a change in plans? how does one manage priorities? I now am beginning to appreciate the sacrifices made by hikers and folks back home when someone decides to take off for 4 to 5 months and attempt a thru-hike much less a section that takes a couple of weeks (my goal for the future). As much as I need to continue my physical preparedness, some additional mental and emotional preparation is required by me and others in order for me to enjoy myself.