 | ||||
 |
Journal Entry: 8 April, 1995 Our packs are strapped on and off we go, through mostly hardwood forest along Bearpen Trail, crossing a few trickles of water and some rather muddy spots. We hike through the Little Wilson Creek Wilderness until we reach the junction with the Appalachian Trail. Along the way, we find a set of bones scattered on either side of the trail. My theory is that they belonged to one of the wild horses that roam the area, but we don't find a skull to check. Eem knows anatomy from his med-school classes, but not for animals other than people. We encounter a group of dayhikers with a couple of small doggies trotting along with them and exchange pleasantries, then stop on an open slope to admire the view below in the valley. Soon we pick up the Mountainsmiths and start hiking again. At a very small waterfall's catchpool we stop to refill the Nalgene bottles and shoot a picture. If we'd known to wait until the crossing at Wilson Creek we could have filled them a little easier then, but no. Across the Creek the trail enters Grayson Highlands State Park. On the other side of the bridge there are two guys talking and an old guy eating something, but what holds our attention is a big ol' dog. He gives us a quick sniff and walks off. I thought about what Sydney would be like out here, and decide it's too bad he's not decent enough to handle a trip in the backcountry. A good dog would be nice to have along sometimes. I get Eemer to snap a photo of me coming over the top of a stile, but it turns out he can't focus the camera. To be fair, the boy does need glasses and maybe when he gets them his photography will improve. With Eem leading the way, we stay on the A.T. through the park, gaining altitude. Soon he spies a clearing with a nice view just off the trail -- a good place for lunch. We guess that what we're looking at is Wilburn Ridge, which seems to be the only logical possibility from looking at the map & compass readings. As we ponder, we eat a variety of things -- 1/2 a bagel, some sharp Cheddar, dried apples & peaches, Honey Graham Oh's, a couple triangles of Toblerone, and chewy Granola Bars. It's a leisurely lunch, and we lay in the sun, relaxing, while I begin what would become one hell of a sunburn on my legs (at about the knees), arms (from the elbows down), face (all over, especially the ears), and neck (Redneck). Of course we hadn't packed any sunblock -- it was April, for God's sake! Who knew?! Eventually, we sit up (Eem had dozed off for a short while) and lift our packs, heading for Massie Gap and Wilburn Ridge.
We pass the boundary of Grayson Highlands soon thereafter, and begin to climb steadily & steeply up Wilburn Ridge. The rocks that cover the trail are taking a toll on my poor flat feet, and there are a couple of spots on my hips and shoulders that are getting sore from supporting the backpack. But the vistas from up on the Ridge are wonderful, and the open spaces full of rocky outcrops and scrub pine make me wonder if the hiking out West was mostly like this. I want to find out, soon. Eem got ahead of me (no surprise there), and I eventually see him waiting on a natural stone staircase that squeezes narrowly between a pair of giant stones. He had previously met "Flash" the dog, who wanted to give him the bone, but was barely restrained by the Fat Kid holding the leash. The Kid ended up taking the spur trail up Wilburn Ridge with his dad and another dude, but we would see them later at Rhododendron Gap. As we descend the Ridge and head for the Gap we come upon what must be some sort of "outing" group -- about 10 people going up the Ridge. I was under the impression that most hikers knew that the ideal group size is 4 (or 6 max.) to minimize the impact not only on the trail but on the others using the trail. Guess they never heard that one. It's kind of disconcerting when you go out to "get away from it all" and end up with another group parade. Then again, I realize that the A.T. is not exactly the place to go if solitude is what you're looking for. End of sermon. By the time we climb down to Rhododendron Gap I am ready for a water break. There is some guy up on the biggest crag with his Squeeze and they stay up there for quite a while -- I know that the last time I was up there the panorama was incredible, but I don't suppose they're up there admiring the view. Flash and Company appear shortly after we arrive, and Eem gives them directions to Deep Gap shelter. The Fat Kid cruises with the dog, telling Dad he is headed to Hardee's. They all put in their orders ("Oh, yeah? Well bring me some fries!") then follow in his wake. Meanwhile, Romeo & Juliet decide to clamber down from on high and get going. Romeo has a bit o' difficulty getting his pack on, but manages with Juliet's help. They shuffle off towards Wilburn Ridge along the A.T.
Eem has gone a-scouting, first down the Crest Trail, then the Pine Mountain Trail, looking for a campsite. He returns, saying there's a good one just off the Crest Trail in the rhododendron, but nothing close on the Pine Mtn. Trail. So we lift the packs once more and hop the fence along the horse trail, getting to a cleared slope that had a fairly level spot sheltered by the brush. A good place for the tent, and up it goes. Then we get ready to make dinner -- no mucking about in the dark this time. The culinary delight I prepare is Angel Hair Pasta w/ White Clam Sauce:
Very tasty, but the pan is kind of a bitch to clean. The Blossom Hill Chardonnay I brought in a Nalgene jar was just the ticket with this. The setting sun's light on Wilburn Ridge is exquisite and I take a couple of snaps, but we are too far down the slope to see the sunset directly. I suppose we could have gone back up to the rocks in the Gap to see it, but it didn't occur to me then. Probably wouldn't have gone anyway, 'cause I was bushed. My sunburn had intensified during the day, and it promised to be a rather uncomfortable night. But I'm tired, and I crawl into the tent and my sleeping bag. There, I learn how not to close up a candle-lantern. I write in the journal a bit, then blow out the candle. The lantern collapses vertically, so I reach up and grab the top to close it. The neurons in my brain must be on their coffee break as I do this, because I momentarily forget that heat rises, and that metal (which is what the lantern is made of) is a really good conductor. The end result is a severe burn on the index finger of my left hand. Ouch. (The actual phrase I used was a little more colorful than that. Same meaning, though.) Because that didn't seem to be enough to disturb my night's rest, the wind (which had been a nuisance earlier when we were trying to light the Whisperlite stove) really started to pick up, howling down the slope, and I'm sure if we were not sheltered by the rhododendron it would be much worse. As it is, the rainfly begins to flap and the wind goes whistling through the branches. I had been concerned about the lack of trees to hang the food bags from, but put most everything into the Tupperware & Eemer is confident that no critters will appropriate our breakfast. He's right -- any mouse that showed his face in this wind would get some frequent flier miles. The night is fitful for both of us. I don't believe I snored much, since I never fell into a good, long, deep sleep. We got up about 7:30 the next morning. outside || previous || next
|
|
||
 | ||||
ometime past the crack of dawn (7:30 a.m.) we get up. Eem has not yet utilized his powers as a Rain God, but I've begun my duties as King Condensation. The top corner of my Therm-A-Rest is soaked, and a substantial portion of my sleeping bag is damp, too. I am not surprised. Eem's stuff, of course, is completely dry. I lay my gear out in the morning air while we collapse the tent and scarf down breakfast -- a blueberry bagel with raspberry jam, dried fruit (the apples are especially good), Tang Instant Breakfast Drink (with 100% of your daily supply of vitamin "C"), a cup of French Vanilla Café for me, a cup of gourmet hot chocolate for Eem, and granola with freeze-dried raspberries (which taste remarkably like the Crunchberries in Cap'n Crunch's cereal. Hmmmm...). 
