- Miles 787.2-797.8 (10.6 mi.)
- Total ascent: 3638’; descent: 1152’
The breakfast after resupply day is always interesting. Today, it was shredded wheat, giardiniera vegetables, peanut butter, and ginger ale (give me bold or give me OJ).
We ate while half-heartedly helping Mowgli and Drafty start a fire. But because Mowgli cared at least as much about playing “Wonderwall,” and Drafty about whatever was on his phone, we didn’t get much done at first. It wasn’t until a man who I suspect is long-term homeless produced, somehow, a telescoping silver tube he used to blow on the fire that it really caught.
After eating all the shredded wheat I could stand without a bowl or milk, I took advantage of the outdoor shower. Behind the shower, in the city park, was a residential water heater, so, feeling like a king among hikers, I worked up a warm lather of apple shampoo.
As the wind shifted, apple scent turned to smoke. I decided I couldn’t wait it out, with just one shower for a dozen hikers, so I got out. Without a towel to dry off, I was a smoky, cold plebian once again.
Taking advantage of my cold wetness, I washed a t-shirt and shorts at the spigot and line-hung them to dry. While drying them and charging our devices, I struck up a conversation with someone named Lens Cap, who is a recent grad in parks and recreation management. Standing in Nickelodeon pajamas, he told me he and his hiker relatives had just taken home five dogs.
I have no idea how it would be possible to corral five dogs at home, much less take care of them. It sounded like quite the additional trouble: this group started February 23 but hoped to pick up their pace, as many of their stops and site choices were dictated by the dogs. Lens Cap offered us a ride back to the trailhead, but it became clear he wouldn’t be able to leave soon. It was nearing 11, and we wanted to get hiking.
We tried our luck hitching, but had none this time. Everyone in town seemed to be leaving church and going to the grocery store, not out of town. Finally, as we were giving up and walking back to camp, an older woman pulled up and called to us from a Ford Fusion. She was bringing her husband to the same trailhead for a section hike south. The couple had three kids, they told us, and it sounded like hiking is mostly the husband’s thing. She apologized for tossing us about in the back seat, but it was the windy roads to blame more than her driving style.
It was a hard hike, and we were heavy. But it was beautiful, and we spent a lot of time pointing flowers out to each other to keep our minds off our feet (‘Whine Less,’ graffiti in the shelter in Glasgow recommended). We also got some lovely views of the James River, split by the footbridge we crossed the day before, and of what we think is Big Island, Virginia.
We got to camp a bit late, after 6, but many others walked in after us. There are probably a dozen tents set up, in addition to the two or three sleeping in the shelter.
For dinner, we tried the bacon bits protein option. I hate to say it, but bacon hit it out of the park: more calories, less weight, less space, and less money for a darn good grits accent. We also added oregano, garlic powder, black pepper, salt, and olive oil. I am glad to have EVOO back in my diet and have never experienced the digestive issues some hikers attribute to it.
At our shelter tonight is a pond which we think must be the “punch bowl,” with what sounds like fifty frogs. The birds must feel defeated but will be back in the morning.
People who haven’t experienced morning or evening in the deep woods would be surprised at how loud it can be. The night flock of birds or frogs can drown out conversation. It feels wrong to be annoyed at, but difficult not to be.
It’s not our house, Rachel and I remind ourselves. We are here to look and to listen and to sleep, but we’re the guests out here. It’s important to remember that.
