June 6, 2008

Ugh what a rotten day. To explain why, I need to back up. The zipper on my hammock broke a few days ago, meaning I haven’t been able to close up my bug net. I’ve been getting eaten alive every night.

But last night was by far the worst. Compounding it was the fact that I also didn’t have my tarp – I had left it at the last shelter while taking my siesta yesterday. Luckily, it was a clear night – if it rained I’d be screwed. It didn’t, but all night in an open hammock wasn’t pretty. I even went and laid down on the ground next to a smoldering campfire – the smoke kept the bugs down, but lying in the dirt was not conducive to sleep. I got about 2 hours’ worth.

In the morning I can’t pack up and leave – I’ve gotta sit still and hope that Tetris or Mustang Sally bring my tarp down. Sally does, but it’s 11 am by the time she arrives. Given that it’s going to be yet another mid-90’s scorcher of a day, this means I’ve wasted the best hiking time of the day. At mid-day I’d like to be taking a break – instead I’m just getting started.

And of course the next few miles are on south-facing slopes with minimal tree cover.

I’m a sweaty guy under normal circumstances. In ones like this, the tank top and shorts that comprise the entirety of my clothing are soaked – literally dripping wet – within a half hour.
By 2 pm, we’ve done 5 miles, including an uphill. Sally calls it a day there, but I need to push on into town – the guy who makes my hammock has mailed me a loaner which I can use while I mail the one I have now back for repairs. I want to make the post office first thing in the morning to get it. So it’s 4 more miles, including crossing the James River on a footbridge. After half an hour, I manage to get a ride into Glasgow, and a room in the only motel in town.
Which, as it turns out, is a craphole. There are bugs, the water pressure sucks, and worst of all, the AC only gets it down to about 80°. This is an improvement on the 95° outside, but still not exactly comfortable. At least there is a mini-grocery next door, which helps with my dehydration – in the space of a few hours, I drink approximately 3 gallons of tea, lemonade and gatorade.

June 7, 2008

Yet another 95° day. This one I do not have the heart to face. I hitch a ride to Buena Vista, where a decent motel awaits. I spend the entire day napping, showering, and eating.

June 8, 2008

I arranged yesterday to get a ride back to the trail early in the morning – the forecast is a lovely 99°. It’s a little cooler at 3500 foot, though, and by the time I need to stop for the afternoon, I’ve reached Hog Camp Gap, and some unbelievable Trail Magic.

I knew it was here, having heard about it through the grapevine, but it’s still a sight to see – 30 or so people milling around, cooking up hot dogs & hamburgers, passing around sodas & beers. I’ve actually missed most of it – it’s Sunday, and the group of 1999 thru-hikers who do this every year are going back to work tomorrow – but there’s still plenty to be had.

Crutch more or less lives on the trail, traveling around doing magic, and he’s here dispensing goodness. I catch up with Daisy, and the sisters Wild Oats and Bone Lady, and Double D, and a few others. Double D has a set of clippers, and has given Daisy a Mohawk – practical in this heat. I go the whole hog, and have Wild Oats shave my entire head, including beard. It feels great, though I do look like Uncle Fester.

A couple hours later, I do something that will probably define my hike for the next month. While putting a burger on the grill in the main fire pit, I accidentally step into a pile of ash in a second fire ring. The ash looks harmless – but there was a fire there yesterday, and the ash under the surface is still hot.

To leave out a lot of very painful detail, the upshot of the event is that I have second-degree burns all over the top of my right foot. (The bottoms are fine, thanks to the sandals I was wearing.) We get the wounds cleaned, and I have blisters starting just behind the toes and running to near the heel. Right in the middle, there’s a golf-ball sized spot where the skin has come completely off. The pain is pretty awful. Thankfully, I have some vicodin in my first-aid kit. One of those and two Tylenol PM, and it’s goodnight.

June 9, 2008

Pain much, much less today. Mustang Sally comes in to camp and gives her nurse’s opinion – the only thing I need to worry about is infection. Other than that, the wound will heal in 2-3 weeks, and there’s not much that will change that. And if I can take the pain, I can walk on it.
In the afternoon, Crutch makes a run into town, and I pick up anti-biotic ointment, bandages and tape. The pharmacist seconds Sally’s opinion – it’s going to hurt, but I can theoretically walk.

After spending the rest of the day zeroing at the ongoing trail magic party, I’ll find out tomorrow.

June 10, 2008

Get up early, and am hiking by 7:30. I’m slow, but I’m moving, and the pain in the foot isn’t too bad on the well-graded dirt trails. It does start to hurt more as the day wears on. The heat is not as bad today, but it’s still clearly summer. I take a siesta, then make a few more miles before calling it a day near the top of “The Priest” – the last 4000 foot mountain before New Hampshire. 15 miles on a burnt foot – not bad.

Camped with Barley and Rain, among others, which is good since Rain is “two months” short of finishing her MD. She concurs with everyone else – it’s gonna heal at the same rate, whether I walk on it or not.

June 11, 2008

Downhills hurt like hell on this foot. It’s the first time I’ve ever wanted an uphill, and what I get is a 3000-foot descent.

Make the Tye River in midafternoon, and go in for a soak whit a whole crowd of hikers, before pushing on for a bit more. The trail on the North side of the Tye is uphill – but it’s also very rocky, and the pain in the foot is pretty bad. ½ a vicodin before sleep tonight. 8 miles.

June 12, 2008

First two miles are very, very rocky, and the foot is killing me. I reach Maupin Field shelter at mid-day, and it’s getting hot, and I just don’t have the heart to go on. I spend the entire afternoon in the shelter, napping, getting caught up on my journal, talking to whoever comes in, eating lunch, then dinner. Finally, at about 6, I head out. The path north of the shelter is a well-graded uphill, and the foot is OK. After a bit, I’m able to get over onto the Blue Ridge Parkway and walk on that. It’s not quite heaven – I’d prefer an escalator, thank you very much – but a smooth surface is way easier on the foot than the rocks and roots of the trail.

It’s a cloudless day, and, as I walk on, a cloudless evening. I’m going to miss several “view points,” (as they are marked on the map) by night-walking the BRP, but at this point I’m just dying to get to Waynesboro. I walk on until nearly midnight, then “cowboy camp” – a fancy way of saying “lay in the grass at an overlook ping and throw a blanket over myself.” 9 miles today. Waynesboro tomorrow, and probably for a day or two afterwards. Central Virginia has been miserable.