Trail Letter 9: 4/26, 4/27, and 4/28

20.0 refreshed and sweaty miles today. Yesterday I stayed with Karen and James all day. IN the morning James and I kayaked the James River, then we poked around at a spring on their land — we got our feet wet and I skipped rocks. We came home and James showed me around the garden — we picked lettuce and spinach for a lunch salad. In the evening, James (who plays violin in addition to piano) was performing with a local orchestra, so I had some cultural experience — they played 4 pieces, two of which were Mission Impossible and March the Droids(?) — the Star Wars March I think. They fed me incredible meals — homemade pizza with from-scratch dough, sauce from homegrown tomatoes, spinach from the garden, morels from the mountain… mmmm! James made waffles one morning and pancakes the next — and the lunch salad was the best I’ve ever had. This morning Karen made killer omelets. They have an African ?some kind of bird? that knows over 200 words and mimicks noises like sneezes, creaking doors, farts, etc. It uses its vocabulary at the appropriate time, too! His name is Yogi. After a soak in the hot tub — and a couple more homemade that-day chocolate chip cookies, I had my choice of 3 guitars to strum before hitting the hay.

So you can see why I said to James before I hit the trail, “I feel like a new man.” They were both so kind, hospitable, and conversational I felt like family.

But the climb outta town today was super-sweaty. After a while, some thunderstorms rolled in, but they were mostly thunder and lightning and just enough rain to replace my sweatiness. I’ve got a maildrop in Montebello — 17 miles away — and today is Saturday, so I’ll take tomorrow to arrive and pick up the drop Monday morning. There’s a big group of weekenders at this shelter, so I set up my ponchotarp, even though it’s raining. I need to start using it more… It’s leaking on me as I write, so I’m gonna try to fix what I can… adios!

4/27

18.1 overcast miles today. I must’ve woken up early, because by 2:30 I had traveled 17 miles — and I took my time. So I’ve read a lot today, tinkered with the poncho shelter setup, and ate all my food (except 2 days of oatmeal).

I have a mail drop in Montebello from Sylvia — it was sent to Pearisburg but I had already resupplied so I forwarded it here. Anyway, I was going to hitch a ride at the road crossing, but the “road” is an old beat up dirt/gravel path, so I walked down and found a flat spot across from a fish hatchery to set up the tarp. Tomorrow morning I’ll head to town and pick up the mail drop, eat, and resupply.

Looks like it’s gonna rain, so I tried to make the tarp more taut so the rain rolls off it quickly. Also, I picked up some $.99 foam insoles at Wal-Mart in Lynchburg and today (two days in a row now!) I was shine splint free!

I don’t think Feezel and Bigfoot passed me, even with my zero day. In 5 consecutive shelters they had written nothing in the registers. Perhaps my short day today will close the gap, or even put me in the rear…

4/28

18.2 guess-what-kind-of-miles-you-walk-after-a-night-of-super-leaky-poncho-tarp miles today. I need to seam seal the hood better, and the velcro, but more importantly I need to figure out an effective method for shedding water… because I was a sponge.

I woke up at around 6:30 and forcibly dragged myself out of my sleeping sponge. I didn’t know what time it was, but I figured the Post Office’s porch would be drier than my bathtub. So I trekked the mile or so into town, and when I arrived at the PO, I noticed a sign for the Dutch Haas Bed and Breakfast — 1/2 mile up the road. Well I was hungry, and the Dutch Haas feeds free lunches to thru-hikers, so I figured they’d be friendly.

They were. I surprised Leprechaun, Fester, Dropkick, and Jake — I mean, here I show up at the door, dripping wet, at 7 in the morning. They had all stayed there the night before. Anyway, the couple in charge fed me coffee, grapefruit juice, 5 pancakes, and eggs with cheese. They told me it could be my free breakfast instead of lunch. I offered to vacuum or wash windows or something, but they said they didn’t need any of that, but they did need someone to hike The Priest’s Shelter’s journal to the shelter. So I packed it up and was on my wet merry way.

After depositing the journal, I summited The Priest, and there I met a 76 year old(!) section hiker, who was very talkative. The Priest is the last 4,000′ mountain until New Hampshire, I think. Anyway, at around 1-ish, the rain ceased and Mr. Sun tried to come out and play. The constant rain had saturated the mountains, and the Trail was being used as an emergency spillway in many places. The existing creeks were roaring with the added volume — the entire water surfaces where whitewatered.

But the forest and mountains are loving these spring showers. I smell newness, freshness, and a host of nector-ish smells after the rain. The greenery is ever-steadily moving up the mountains — making a unique blend of Fallish (brown, orange, amber) colors and Springish (vibrant and dull greens, colored blossoms) colors. It’s hard not to feel like it’s becoming Spring inside me — changing with the woods.

Finally caught up with California Joe — tomorrow he, Fester, and I are gonna split a room. The General is also at this shelter — I saw him last at Damascus before he flip-flopped north to hike into Trial Days at Damascus. Alright, time for leyendo y durmiendo.