I was originally going to take three zero-days with my family, since I was feeling the shock of being out of my trail element pretty strongly. But thanks to my begging sisters, I was forced to spend four and a half days off trail. I survived somehow, occupying my time with normal people activities such as cooking in a kitchen and walking without an intent. I also was able to import and organize some pictures, which I will be sharing very soon. After being dropped back onto the trail, I had a day's worth of elevation gain close to 5000 feet to conquer, which proved to be very tough for me, especially after several days off. However, what seemed like hell to me barely phased other hikers who were passing me on the upward-facing mass, which felt somewhat discouraging. At the beginning of the trip, almost everyone has to develop their "trail legs", which allow them to ease into big miles and will stay with them until the end of the trip. The couple of days I spent back on trail required me to build back some of the trail legs that I lost.
I eventually got to the road crossing near Buena Vista, VA, where I made my way down to Trail Days in Damascus, VA. Disclaimer to my Mom: if you don't like the idea of me hitchhiking, consider skipping this paragraph. Now that I got that out of the way, my journey down to Trail Days proved to be very tough. It took me four hitches to get to Interstate 81, down to basically the bottom of Virginia, and over to Damascus, a journey which usually takes 3 1/2 hours but took me 7. After getting to an Exxon station close to the I-81 entrance ramp in the back of a pick-up, I spent almost an hour and a half asking around seeing first off if anyone was heading south. Most people were heading north, which they may have said because they actually didn't want to pick up a grungy hiker, but I like to think more positive. Eventually, a Christian father of four from the North Carolina backwoods offered to bring me south on I-81 under one condition: that I drive so he could enjoy a couple of Bud Lights. That's right, he handed me the keys, I nervously remembered how to drive until I could put his rickedy 90's model Saturn on cruise control, and we got to talking about life, faith, and everything else under the sun and over the asphalt. It was great getting to know him, but he eventually needed to head eastward to get home, so he dropped me off and I took two more hitches which were less eventful before I headed into Damascus.
The town of Damascus, VA is occupied by about 600 full-time residents, but it swells to about 3000 during Trail Days. Among these are current and past thru-hikers, locals who consider it their version of a county fair (complete with smelly creatures, though the ones here wear packs apparently), and numerous trail angels such as Miss Janet (all hail the Oracle). Most of them set up their tents on the outskirts of town, which becomes aptly named "tent city". I can tell you first-hand that it is closer to a tent metropolis, as you can walk almost a half an hour through fields and woodlands and are constantly surrounded by tents of all shapes and sizes, makes and models. The buzz of energy and merriment and the smell of sizzling meats and bonfires is all consuming and constant, as you pass by "camps" manned by big-name trail angels and their assistants, each one surrounded by thru-hiker tents. A short walk outside tent city brings you to an extensive string of gear vendor and food booths, all meticulously engineered to satisfy the thru-hiker in everyone. The ATC, Gregory packs (the one I have, offering free repairs and exchanges), and even David "Awol" Miller (author of the AT Guide) all had booths set up. In all the public areas of town, historians, botanists, and notable hikers were giving seminars and workshops. I got to listen to the second person to ever thru-hike talk about his journey back in 1951 with an 80 lb pack including a canvas tent and a lead canteen (a stark contrast to the modern thru-hiker's gear). The second day had a hiker parade, with past thru-hikers grouping up and sporting banners and current thru-hikers peppered among. Marching down the main avenue, we were sprayed with water guns by townsfolk, a tradition started in order to clean off dirty hikers. Evenings were spent around a bonfire, jamming on whatever instruments one had or could fashion (my ukelele was a big hit).
While most people headed back on trail after the festivities, I decided to participate in a trail maintenance opportunity called Hardcore, hosted by a Chuck Norris-esque trail legend named Bob Peoples (jokes abound on the walls of a shelter outside of his hometown in Hampton, TN). A major perk in participating is that everyone gets dropped back onto the trail from wherever they came from through a ridesharing system, a lifesaver for me considering how far north I got off. Our group was one-hundred-strong and shared in communal dinners For two days, we combated erosion on one mile of the trail in the Roan Highlands, sweating and toiling our way toward an even better trail. It was a wonderful experience, and I got to opportunity to meet some wonderful people :). And plus, I even got the views that I missed the first time through the Roan Highlands.
After finally getting back onto the trail, I felt the onslaught of bugs for the first time on this trip. The fact that my buff covers my ears was a godsend (actually, the thanks goes to my Aunt Patty for giving it to me for Christmas, I've also gotten many a complement over the AT map design), considering how many flies attempted to kamikaze into them, but got stopped. However, I had to wear my sunglasses just to keep the bugs out of my eyes, despite the weather being fairly cloudy and them almost fogging up due to the extreme humidity. As I got to my campsite at Spy Rock, before me stood a stone mass rewarding me with a 360 degree view from to top to melt away the troubles of my day. The sunset from there was indescribable and probably the best view I have gotten so far on my trip.
The next day, I made my way over The Priest, notorious for it's long and rocky descent. But first, I stopped by The Priest Shelter and read from the blog that has traditionally become a catholic-style confessional, due to the mountain's namesake. The confessionals ranged from comically innocent to downright shocking, but were all accepted on part of the log being a confessional. It's just one of those gems of the trail. The day ended with a visit to Devil's Backbone Brewpub, which was offering half-gallon jugs of award-winning beer for half-price that day, as well as an assortment of great pub-style dinner options. These were all enjoyed by the ravaged thru-hikers, who were also allowed to camp along the field next to the brewery. The next morning was very special though, as we got to enjoy an incredible breakfast made specially for us thru-hikers, complete with eggs, bacon, hashbrowns, and homemade sausage that was out-of-this-world (or at least out-of-this-country, as the founder is of Polish descent).
The day that awaited us was cold and rain, but filled with high spirits from the incredible breakfast. We headed into Waynesboro and zeroed the next day, filling up on the acclaimed chinese buffet in town. The next day, I entered Shenandoah National Park, which is renowned by hikers for it's wayside snackshops and abundant wildlife. The second day in, I saw my first bear, which I became aware of when I heard a scream from a fellow hiker a couple of yards ahead of me. The scream scared me way more than the bear to be honest, but I apparently learned that the scream was meant to get the bear off the trail, not as an initial response. The bear was cool, but the scream became the talk of camp, as it reminded us all of a trademark horror movie scream.
In the middle of the Shenandoahs, I got to visit with my cousin for the evening, which was very rewarding, and I made my way uneventfully through to the end of the park yesterday. Today, I will be spending my day in Front Royal, VA and will be staying at a historic hostel called Mountain Home Cabbin (spelt with two b's to honor the original owner who built it in the mid-1800's). I will be crossing the 1000 mile mark very soon and will finally be heading into my next state--West Virginia! I can't wait to tell you all about the next states to come!
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