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.

A Mom and Child Trail: Six Days of Perambulation

M and I arrived at Lake Champion, a Young Life (YL) Camp (resort) located near the junction of PA, NJ, and NY near Port Jervis, NY, on August 6th after completing an 11-day anniversary trip to parts north (see previous blog). Click on the links for specific information published by these institutions. The camp offers a week-long camp experience for teenagers from all over the US and YL has a number of these camps in the US and abroad. In addition to a variety of fabulous camp activities and entertainments, the campers have the opportunity to hear about Christianity, in particular, the person of Jesus described in the Bible. 
For this particular week, the campers consisted of teen moms (or expectant ones) and their children as part of YoungLives, a specific ministry under the YL umbrella. Our mission was to care for the children during the day and evening so the moms could be liberated to experience the camp program. During specified periods of the day, the nurseries would be open and moms could drop off their children. M's job was to take care of children in the 6 months old nursery along with some other women. My job was to be a "runner", someone available to go get the stuff the nurseries needed, like diapers, wipes, formula, snacks, and to deal with other stuff to support the care-givers. This often resulted in an ad hoc child-care assignment (we all were trained accordingly) when things got dicey (more unhappy babies than care-givers could handle at one time).
So for 6 days M spent a significant amount of time holding babies, and doing all the other things to keep them happy, which included a fair amount of pushing a perambulator. Most of these moms are from urban environments that differ drastically from the beauty and serenity of the camp, so this environment was also new to the tots as well. I spent 6 days hoofing it around camp making deliveries and just taking care of whatever business was pressing. My center of gravity was Ferndale where M and her group were stationed; this was her dorm space and mine as well (all the women stayed in several rooms and since there were so few guys we took up one room on the top floor of the same dorm). I spent literally hours pushing a stroller with a small one who was somehow placated by the motion and scenery, thank God!
All in all the experience was quite rewarding; we were not campers but workers so there was little time for us to enjoy the activities available at the camp, though I did have a spur-of-the-moment opportunity to take on the challenge of the ropes course since we were there child-minding and some participant slots were unfilled. As a runner, I did have the opportunity to take in the beauty of the out-of-doors more than the others and for that I am thankful, and I did walk my fool legs off as I criss-crossed the camp. Having a small backpack was convenient and M suggested I dig out my old Boy Scout canvas backpack from 45 years ago (that boy smells good!) and use it to hold the stuff I needed with me. We also had limited interaction with the girls since our job was to free them for activities, but we spent many hours with their children, getting to know them quite well. There were moments where we observed the girls, such as exiting the bus on arrival (a wide variety of expressions manifested themselves from fear to exuberance), delivering and picking-up babies, meal times, and free time when they had responsibility for their children. We often made ourselves available so they could, for example, go on the ropes course or zip line. Most rewarding was to see the effect of the camp on them: many hearts were softened toward God and a number of girls expressed a commitment to follow Jesus more closely in their lives.
Another thing that was amazing was to see the transformation of the camp from its conventional set-up (no small ones, just teenagers and staff) to a multi-nursery enterprise geared for child-care at its best and then back again. An army of high school and college staff descended on the nurseries and the stuff hauled in at the beginning of the week (an sea of strollers were positioned beside the cabins) and taken away on the last day to be stored for the next year. Young Life is an amazing group of people in amazing surroundings at camp and at home and God is using them in an amazing way to draw young (and old) folk into relationship with him. Pretty important stuff, in fact, I cannot think of anything more important: broken lives made whole for eternity.

A Northern Trail: 11 Days (and more) above the Mason-Dixon Line

M and I marked 40 years of marriage at the end of July with an anniversary trip. We decided earlier in the spring to be volunteer staff at a YL Camp in NY in August (next blog) which galvanized our summer plans. We then planned of a 11 day (7/27 to 8/6) adventure dans la voiture with our northernmost destination being Quebec City in the province of Quebec (which some say is in Canada and others say is a different country altogether; we'll see) to proceed our mission at camp. 
Day 1 to 3: Left Richmond for Lancaster County, PA; we had always wanted to visit the Amish Country, so we spent two nights near Bird-in-Hand. We enjoyed most traveling in the countryside and were overwhelmed by the magnitude of the farming enterprise - a tribute to the work ethic of those buggy-driving clans. Highlights included a mega-meal at a traditional Amish smorgasbord, a farm produce auction that was not on the tourist map (100s of Amish and otherwise buyers and sellers showing how farm produce moves from here to there in a hurry, horse-drawn wagons amid produce trucks and literally tons of produce), the best ice cream we have ever consumed at the Lapp Family Farm, the purchase of a new belt at the Village Harness Shop and a trip up to Lititz. That harness shop posted a sign out front, No Tourists, but John our host said to go in as long as you bought something. Amish owned and operated for 90 years with a fabricating shop in the rear with a ceiling mounted drive shaft out of the Industrial Revolution that powered the individual work stations by pulley and belt drives. To the unfamiliar eye they had everything needed for a life that appreciated and utilized horses as they were intended; the smell of leather and hardware was mesmerizing. I bought a sturdy brown leather belt for an extremely reasonable price but it will take a bit of breaking in. Lititz was a quaint town, home of the Wilbur Chocolate Company (we got more than samples). It was a bit rainy so we walked about a little and took refreshment at a local Pub and Cafe. Next morning we were off to Pulaski, NY at the eastern end of Lake Ontario to moderate the long trip north on I-81.

Day 3 to 4: Arrived at Rainbow Shores Hotel in rain to an amazing camp-like atmosphere. After the rain moderated we enjoyed sitting by the lake shore (a bluff) waiting for dinner (a delicious seafood platter) and an amazing sunset. Up early to an exquisite breakfast; we left well-fortified for our trip into Alexandria Bay, NY. We took the Scenic Highway to get the feel of the country alongside the lake, such as the Tibbet's Lighthouse.

Day 4 to 6: Arrived at the Channelsyde Motel just east of Alexandria Bay on the main channel of the St. Lawrence River. After a short rest we headed into town and took the long river cruise of the 1000 Islands scattered throughout the headwaters of the St. Lawrence River, a light dinner and a visit to an island park. We thoroughly enjoyed learning about this part of the world unknown to us until now. Next morning (our anniversary) being Sunday we worshipped at the local Episcopal Church (amazing architechture and craftsmanship as well as a welcoming and genuine community of faith). Then a morning trip to the Bolt Castle and another walk-about. We had a special dinner up on the bluff overlooking Sunken Island Lighthouse and the Bolt Castle. Up early the next morning for the longer trip to Sainte-Anne-de-la-Perade, the Tommy Cod ice fishing capital of the world.

Day 6 to 10: We again took the Scenic Highway south of the river and crossed over into Ontario, Canada from Ogdensburg on the US side. We bypassed a congested Montreal on the north over a ferry then through Oka, known for its Trappist Monastery which produces fragrant though delicious cheese (we got more than a sample). Back on the main highway in Quebec and onto our B&B. We spent the next four days exploring Quebec by visiting Quebec City, Trois-Rivieres, and Montreal. We enjoyed the cities but we know we are not urban folk so the small villages and byways were enjoyable in and of themselves. Few native English-speakers but we were graciously received and when language was a barrier the natives did all they could to welcome and guide us, so to us we experienced a warm and inviting place. A former colleague of mine from my engineering days lives in Montreal and his wife's father owns and runs the B&B were we stayed along the Ste. Anne River where it flows into the St. Lawrence. We received royal treatment in quiet and beautiful surroundings. The river is life in this part of Quebec and all revolves around it to some extent. In winter between December 26th and February 14th when the Ste. Anne River is frozen, hundreds of little houses are formed into a small town on the ice with light poles driven into the ice and stores offering their wares to comfort the thousands of ice fisherman (and a few women) who brave the cold (though the shacks are heated) to catch some of the massive numbers of Tommy Cod that live in that particular part of the river at that time of year. Some say that there is more interest in camaraderie and good cheer than fishing.
We took the scenic route into Montreal and were rewarded with magnificent river views and indigenous countryside. Our last day was in Montreal with my colleague, his daughter and wife. We strolled around the riverfront, did a little shopping, and had dinner in a trendy part of town. In the morning we were off again headed for the good ole USA.


Day 10 to 11: We enjoyed a lovely drive south of Montreal, across the border and down through Adirondack Park (we need to come back here someday) to Albany, NY. This was our transition day to wash clothes and car, and to reset ourselves for the drive tomorrow into Lake Champion near Glen Spey, NY. We stayed in an Econolodge for not much money, but it was fine and everything we needed was within a short distance including an eatery with a not so fancy name or exterior but wonderful food for a reasonable price: the end of an anniversary trip with lots more memories than I could possibly write here. We had a good plan (reasonable driving distances and expectations for how much we could experience in the time allotted) and we executed well, thanks as much to that fine driving machine of M's as anything else. We picnic well so lunch was usually anywhere that seemed pleasant and convenient. We met many delightful folk and experienced cultures and climes new to us while enjoying just being together. Life is good; living is better, especially when you have someone to share it with.

A Tick Trail Part 2: Things May Not Be What They Seem

Thursday AM

Ring, Ring.

Hello.

Mr. Micks, this is Angie at Dr. Matt's office. I have your lab results: negative for Lyme Disease and Rocky Mtn. Spotted Fever and a few other things they normally check for: your white count is low as well as you platelet level, so he believes you contracted a virus. He wants you to continue to take the antibiotic because of the rash on your leg and come back in a month to have your blood checked.

Did you say, negative for Lyme Disease?

Yes, no Lyme Disease. How are you feeling today?

A little better but still a bit shaky; so did he say anything else about the rash?

How is the rash? Is it irritated or changing?

As a matter of fact, it looks a bit angry this morning, but there is no swelling or discomfort.

Well, that's good; just keep a eye on it, and if there is a change that concerns you give us a call.

Well, thanks. I guess I'll call in about a month and we'll see you then.

Sounds good. Bye, Mr. Micks.

__________________________________________________________________________

So, I amble into the garden room to consider the situation.  Certainly, I am relieved not to have Lyme Disease; there can be a number of long-term consequences that are unsavory, and I am feeling a bit better so I expect the virus has petered out and time will bring about a restoration of vigor and a cessation of the those blasted headaches and the exacerbated arthritis in the neck. The cognitive dissonance I have been experiencing about my backpacking discipline is resolved, since I thought I had checked myself for ticks and I just could not reason how I missed that little sucker, especially if he had to be attached for at least 24 hours and probably more. Reported cases of Lyme Disease are rare in Virginia.

So the only question that remains is:

WHAT THE HELL IS THAT THING ON MY LEG?

__________________________________________________________________________

I am posting this a few days after the lab report: the rash is fading and I am practically back to normal. I expect my blood test in a month will indicate proper white count and platelet levels, so, this adventure comes to a close.

Back on the trail soon!

A Tick Trail: Thar's Danger in Them Thar Hills

On my last hike I made note of what I considered significant natural encounters on the trail: a rattlesnake and a bear. I mentioned these because these creatures can cause serious injury to humans and therefore make the adrenaline rush a bit. I failed to mention that I saw ticks out there as well. Dog ticks are the bigger variety that we can see easily and I brushed one off my leg (no long pants on) on day three of that hike. Deer ticks like the one blown up at left are quite a bit smaller and evade detection, even to the most diligent observer.

Fast forward 10 days (Friday) from the end of that trek and Hiker Hank is starting feel a little feverish and achy. Thinking maybe I picked up a little virus, I did not do anything about it. The next day, Saturday was no better and I was pretty much useless around the house, but I still expected it to pass; that night I was wracked with trembling, fever, and aches throughout. There was no reason to suspect anything other than a virus; who gets the flu in the summer? Sunday night I sleep fitfully and wake up twice drenched in a cold sweat. M looks over and says: Hank, look at your leg! She is looking at the back side of my left thigh, which I cannot really see. There is a sizable rash around what appears to be a bite site. OK, now we are getting a little edgy; no trip to the ER, but a phone call to Dr. Matt and an early Monday afternoon appointment. I am feeling crappier than I have in 9 years. After some discussion Dr. Matt says: looks like Lyme Disease to me, we are going to treat you for that. Heavy duty antibiotics for ten days, should be feeling better in a few days. Diagnosis to be confirmed via blood test but the classic bulls-eye rash is evident. How about that new camera.

In reflection, those larger beasts in the woods proved to be no more that a novelty. The real danger to me was that tiny little deer tick that I never saw. You can bet that on future hikes I will assiduously check myself over at the beginning and end of each day. In order for me to contract Lyme Disease the tick had to be secured for a least 24 hours, likely more. How could I have missed that? Those suckers are tiny and dangerous; eventhough they do not make your heart pound when you see one, the bacteria they carry will knock the wind out of your sails, completely.

The Beginning of a Daily Trail: Two Miles in the Hood and Quiet Time

If I am going to be a conditioned backpacker then at least I need (and want) to be a regular walker. If I am going to be a faithful servant then I need (and want) to spend some time with the Master. So for about a year I have taken up early morning neighborhood walking to get those legs in shape and that ticker pumping. Each morning about 6:15, after the coffee gets going, I take one of several routes of about two miles. My standard and favorite takes me about 30 minutes and is exactly 2.0 miles, which calculates to a speed of 4 mph, about twice what I accomplish on backpacking treks.

So, out the back door and across the yard past M's garden on Forest. Those Shasta Daisies just keep multiplying. The garden is producing well; we had so much lettuce, cucumbers are prolific, beans OK, tomatoes on the way, other flowers in abundance. Now I head down Stuart Hall Road past Trinity Methodist and where C&T used to live back in the day of youngsters at home. Trinity is a wonderful part of the neighborhood. At noon and six in the evening the chimes play some of our favorite hymns, a fitting testimony to the grace of God. I walk over the creek and then up to Baldwin Road where I take a left. This creek flows down to the lake at University of Richmond. A walk over there and back takes an hour (about 5 miles) and is for the most leisurely of days. 

Here's a typical street view with overhanging hardwoods and spindly pines. Over the course of weeks I see that same folk mostly with the same pets. Squirrels, rabbits, chipmunks, birds, cats, and leashed dogs are my animal companions.

Turning right I am now on Hollins Road, a lovely divided street with a small creek down the median. I ignore the sign that says Do Not Enter and forge ahead. At the top of the hill I turn right again onto Woodberry Road for one block then down the hill on Sweetbriar Road. To make the trip total 2.0 miles I bear left on Rock Creek Road and continue all the way down past Baldwin to Forest Avenue on the other side of Trinity. I zig zag over to University and then left on Arlington Circle which loops up, around and back to University. Another zig zag onto Essex Avenue for a block, a right on Fairfax Avenue and I am coming up on the back side of the house with a good view of the Mini-Monster (a short green wall that is supposed to remind me of the Green Monster in the Fens). Looks like the WSJ is waiting for me in the driveway, coffee in the kitchen and morning devotional materials in the garden room. I use a devotional guide called Encounter with God by Scripture Union, a plain Bible (no commentary), a journal, and prayer cards (index cards for various themes) to continue the day. My walk is peppered with all sorts of musings depending on what happened recently or the plans for the day. I make all these wanderings of mind into prayers since God is interested in what I am thinking and He can better speak to me in those quiet morning moments if my mindset is on Him. So there we have it, the beginning of a day ripe with opportunity.

New Trail: Day Three - Wildcat Ridge Trail to Rockfish Gap

Date: Wednesday, June 29, 2011 (day three of a three day hike)
Where: Skyline Drive (SNP) near Rockfish Gap

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

Length: 13.5 m

Elevation change: Wildcat Ridge - 3000, So. fork Moormans FR - 2000, Calf Mtn. - 3000, Rockfish Gap - 1800

Duration: 8.0 h including break for lunch and more rest periods

Since I had kicked major trail butt yesterday or was it the other way round(?), I had a shorter hike today. My tent was thoroughly soaked underneath but I had a dry sleep so I call that a success. Stuffed all the wet gear in the appropriate sacks, loaded up the pack, had a quick oatmeal breakfast (love that JetBoil stove), and headed out, feeling well-rested and invigorated for the trek ahead.

The trail was altogether lovely this morning, with a mix of the normal closed in shadowy parts, to some open pasture and meadow. Having hiked mostly undercover until now, I was a bit surprised by how much the trail, usually no more than a foot wide if well-packed, was encroached by overhanging brush and grass. With recent rains and bright sun no wonder. There were places where recent trail maintenance had been performed but keeping it all clear is a major undertaking and the volunteers are doing a marvelous job. The up and downs were manageable and since I knew I had fewer miles to go, did not seem to be too challenging; just put one foot in front of the other as the song says.

My first encounter was with a local on horseback, out for a morning ride on one of the intersecting blue blaze trails. We had an informative one-sided chat regarding the history and geography of the area. My loquacious educator just would not let me go, saying something like: well, let me tell you about ...   I cannot remember how I broke the suction.


My second encounter was with Grasshopper, a thru-hiker and about my age. We had an uplifting conversation and parted ways. I am truly humbled by these hikers that do this day in and day out for months at a time. You should check him out at  Grasshopper's Blog. Come spring I plan to start with some of them at Springer Mtn. GA, the southern terminus of the AT and hike for a couple of weeks up to Hot Springs, NC. I have some serious training between now and then to be successful.

All during my trek, and for that matter anytime I hike, I want to see the natural flora and fauna. This can be problematic as a found out Monday confronted with an indigenous snake, but nevertheless it became the big event. Same goes for seeing a bear; I wanted to see one (many folks I had encountered mentioned seeing them) but not necessarily have to deal with a confrontation like I did with Mr. Snake. Well, here he is. This is not an actual photo I took since I had left my camera at home and my mobile was useless. So to the best of my recollection this is what I saw. He was thrashing about on the right edge of the trail enjoying the bountiful berries. He did not sense me, so I watched for a while, just enjoying viewing him doing his normal stuff. He was much bigger than I expected based on previous observations. After a while, feeling the pressure of my scheduled meeting in Richmond, I tapped my trekking poles together. He looked up, ears at attention and stared. I did not make eye contact and he moved across the trail and into the brush. Not seeing him now, I advanced down the trail tooting my whistle as a further encouragement for him to move on. Did not see him again. Now I am making a big deal of this and others talked about it casually, but again experiencing these events on the trail are what make it interesting to me, not watching you feet for hours on end to make sure you do not misstep.


The rest of the trip was anticlimactic and delightful. After passing Jarman Gap and taking on a little more water to finish the trip I just idled along. I knew I was on a good schedule so I slowed my overall pace a bit.


The long decent into Rockfish was well-designed so I did not feel like my toes were banging against the fronts of my boots (trail runners today to be precise and I had them pretty tight). And before long I could hear the semis on I-64 groaning upgrade to the pass. Not an unwelcome sound but still a mile or so away. Finally dropping down sharply onto the parkway near the entrance I felt relief and euphoria at this modest accomplishment of 44.3 m in three days. All told, I hiked for about 22 hours of the 50 hours I was out, something I had not done since the boy and I went to Philmont 20 years ago. I am encouraged and looking forward to my next hike, yet to be determined.