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5/2: Deep Gap to Fox Creek

Miles 496.6-511.8 (14.9 mi.)

Total ascent: 2444′; descent 3862′

We saw not one, not two, but five-plus wild ponies today!

We learned at an area known as “Scales,” where livestock was once weighed for sale, that the ponies were reintroduced to the area in the 1960s in order to maintain the grasslands where cattle once grazed. The effect is golden grasses and red gneiss, broken up by thickets of conifers.

The ponies — white, chestnut, black; all diminutive and dirty — grazed without fear of or interest in us hikers. But, my goodness, were hikers interested in them. Many got closer than we thought safe, and at least one we saw was kicked at (though not hit, fortunately).

We began this morning around 7:30 by discovering a miscount in our breakfasts: The oatmeal, which we eat two packs per person per morning (plus Pop Tarts and Breakfast Essentials), was all gone, save for a single unflavored packet.

Because we were also low on fuel, I ate it dry; I did try to share it with Rachel, who told me I was being gross.

We soon crossed Thomas Knob, apparently a popular overnight and day-hiker spot, which had been our planned site until we’d heard it was full. The shelter, like all we’ve seen here so far in Virginia, was built to last, with railroad ties making up its walls and boulders beneath it. Tents peeked through the forest in a half-mile radius in every direction.

At Thomas Knob, we said goodbye to Tree, a retired Bostonian who was hiking the 500-mile stretch from Springer Mountain to Virginia. Embarrassed, Tree asked a day hiker for food; we sighed in relief that the day hiker. We were also short on food and didn’t want to short ourselves further, if not strictly necessary.

Not long after we left Thomas Knob Shelter, what trail signs there were disappeared. We found ourselves in a wide open bald, into which we followed a trail nearly 200 yards before realizing we’d taken a wrong turn.

We backtracked to the AT and, due to the horse trails going every which way, struggled throughout the morning to stay on trail. We stopped for lunch at a junction of trails and watched some robins right, probably over a lady bird because they didn’t seem interested in our food.

We began hiking again, only to stop 10 minutes later to reapply sunscreen. We knew we were in for a long, exposed day, and that we really should have done so earlier.

In fact, today’s challenge wasn’t sun or elevation but terrain. Rocky, unimproved trails dominated the day, with forests and valleys teasing us on either side.

We saw almost day hikers, given how popular the Grayson Highlands is and, we decided, the slew of reasons that tends to slow thru-hikers down: delays at and dropouts in town, mostly. We continue to hear stories of injuries, which most hikers choose to nurse in town or at a hostel (in fact, the hostel closest to use caters to injured hikers with massages and an on-site nurse).

Sore but uninjured, we cruised past the 500-mile mark today. We ate an extra Clif Bar to celebrate and talked of real food in Marion, Virginia, our next resupply.

Also near the 500-mile mark, we saw Cindy and Suzanne filling their water at a stream that seemed to be out of the ponies’ stomping (pooping) grounds. We got water as well, despite feeling nervous about potential fecal contamination (we didn’t have many other source options ahead).

We ate second lunch at Wise shelter, which is unique for being painted and in a state park. While eating, we noticed a spare bag of electrolyte mixes, which we snapped up, on the picnic table. Two of them even contain glucose, unlike the aspartame-only mixes we’re typically limited to.

We walked after second lunch another four hours, until almost 7 p.m., in order to make another few miles before the three days of rain ahead. We skipped Old Orchard, a large and wooded tent site, for Fox Creek, the only other option for miles.

Unfortunately, we didn’t see until we’d already set up our tent and begun dinner the “Bear warning: Camping not recommended” sign posted in 2019 due to multiple bear encounters.

We took as many bear precautions as we could and are hopeful that the bears found a new home. There’s been no word on the trail or on Guthook of more recent bear encounters.

We camp here with one another person, a media studies grad from a SUNY school. He interned as a video editor on a reality TV show about a real estate agent hocking $1,000-month apartments in New York City who is himself struggling. He reminds us of Tom both in his interests and in his eager disposition.

Tomorrow, we have another 15-mile day in store. The rain is supposed to start around 1 a.m. this upcoming morning and to continue off and on through Wednesday.

We hope to arrive in town Tuesday via a free-to-hikers town shuttle. Fingers crossed that there will be a room available for reservation just a night ahead of time, assuming we can find cell service tomorrow.

I should be more anxious about the room, but all the stress I can muster is already allocated to the bear warning; I wish that didn’t feel like a fair compromise.

By Bob

Bob is a newly married word herder who's gone looking for himself where anyone who knows him would: in the mountains and around the campfires of America's greatest trail.

One reply on “5/2: Deep Gap to Fox Creek”

“Sore but uninjured, we cruised past the 500-mile mark today.”

Congrats on the milestone (milestick?)!

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