Blackburn Trail Center 1180.8 to Bear’s Den Hostel 1188.8 (8 miles, 1188.8 total miles)
It wasn’t my best night of sleep on the trail, as it had been incredibly hot all night, and the cacophonous nighttime sounds of insects and critters were foreign to my ears now, keeping me awake longer than normal.
I slept in till 7AM, and I saw Early Bird heading out as his name suggests. He had told us the wildest stories over dinner, about the goshawks attacking hikers while he was in Maine earlier in the season, and hiking/running a 30 mile day to Route 2 in Gorham, including Mahoosuc Arm and Notch.
Bard told me later that Early Bird had started three weeks after him, and he was planning a 27 mile day today. I knew I probably wouldn’t see him again, similar to a few of the stronger hikers I’d first met on trail in Maryland.
I was keeping my ego in check, and solidly planning to only hike the 8 miles to Bear’s Den Hostel that were in my itinerary today. I lazed around Blackburn, making hot coffee and eating a bagel for breakfast.
Tessa was carrying too much food, and gave me five packets of high protein breakfast essentials, a Clif bar, and a couple snack cakes, putting the rest in the hiker box on the porch. She hiked out around 8:30 or so.
I weighed my pack, and it was up to 25 pounds with a liter of water. After a whole day on trail I’d only managed to shave a few ounces of pack weight, but I didn’t mind because I knew I could handle it fine.
Bard had been working on an original piece of music the evening before with the small guitar he carried on his back, and I heard him playing it again as I returned from the privy.
I was going to hike out, but instead was seized by a desire to sit on the porch swing bathed in sunlight and meditate while listening to Bard play the guitar.
I sat for about 20 minutes, letting memories of the trail and Frankie come and go, feeling the love I held in my body for the beautiful life I had lived so far. I felt goosebumps on my arms as I thought about how right everything felt in that moment. I was me again.
I heard Bard finish developing his song, and asked him if I could record it. I wanted to be able to listen to it again one day, and remember this significant time in my life.
Bard was thrilled, because his phone was broken, and he had been unable to record the song himself, so I told him I’d send it to him.
After he was done playing, we sat and talked for quite a while about his music, my writing, and our artistic journeys through vulnerability and hiking the trail. It was a beautiful conversation, one I felt quite lucky to have.
Eventually, I decided it was time to hike, and made my way up back up the blue blazed trail at 10:50, pleased that I’d let myself enjoy the morning and have such a late start.
When I was almost at the top of the ridge again, I recognized Uncle Iroh coming from the other direction. I whipped off my sunglasses and asked if he recognized me, and he immediately did.
We sat on one of the rock steps and talked for several minutes. He and Bard had been two of the first SOBOs I’d met, and couldn’t believe my luck at seeing them both my first two days back on trail.
Iroh was fresh off the four state challenge, similar to Early Bird and Bard. They’d hiked 44 miles and touched their shoes in Pennsylvania, Maryland, West Virginia, and Virginia in 24 hours.
Though technically the official Virginia border was still ahead, the trail passed between Virginia and West Virginia several times before that. The first such spot was where the four state challenge ended.
Iroh had been feeling drained since completing the challenge, and I gave him a packet of propel I had in my fanny pack, telling him if I saw him at the hostel later I’d give him a couple more from my food bag.
Iroh also said he’d been feeling lonely, and had gone three days without seeing other thru hikers recently. He was very pleased when I told him Bard was at Blackburn, and said seeing me had given him all sorts of energy.
Feeling more energized myself, I got on the Appalachian Trail again at 11:11, checking the map to make sure I turned south. I passed a stealth spot right on the ridge that I was almost positive was the place that Pockets and I had declared our relationship official at, seven years prior.
The first 1.3 for the day was very easy, a nice smooth ridge walk, with greenery that glowed and a beautiful forget-me-not blue sky overhead.
A gradual downhill brought me to Wilson Gap, which was a tiny dip with a sign next to it. The sarcastic comments in Far Out made me giggle to myself as I stopped to have a snack. (“Worth the first thousand miles alone”, for example.)
I had a small climb out of the gap, then another couple miles of beautiful flat ridge walking to the sign that proclaimed I’d reached the northern end of the Roller Coaster.
The Roller Coaster is 14 miles of steep ascents and descents with few views, according to the guide. I’d done it back in 2015, and honestly didn’t remember it being significant to me.
I did notice the trail became extremely sandy for a while, as I descended an easy 400 feet to a blue blaze leading to water, where I found a couple hiking with their dog.
They looked like thru hikers, so I stopped to chat, and found out their names were Uber and Patience, and the dog was Skeeter. She was a little thing, all bark until she came up to sniff my hand and decided I was alright after all.
Uber and Patience were from Pennsylvania, had summited Katahdin the 15th, took 11 days off, and were now back on trail. I imagined it was slightly easier to make the transition to SOBO life with a hiking partner.
I continued on a 240 foot climb, then .2 descent to Raven Rocks, which was right on trail. I saw Tessa taking a break, and we joked that she didn’t want to know what time I left Blackburn for the day.
I laid my sweaty shirt and pack out to dry, and had a very long lunch break, from 1PM to 2:17. I lounged around, laying on the rocks long after Tessa left and Uber came through with Patience and Skeeter.
I was 4.64 miles into my day, and only had 3.4 to go. I knew I’d be eating well for dinner, so I only had a bar and some cashews for lunch to preserve my appetite.
Right after Raven Rocks, I arrived at the Virginia border sign. It was the last state crossing that I’d been to previously, and I happened to see one of only a handful of day hikers walk by, and asked her to snap a photo for me.
I kept down the hill less than half a mile to Raven Rocks Hollow, where I found Uber and Patience collecting water from a very small flowing puddle amidst a tangle of rocks, that used to be a “large, rocky stream” according to the guide.
I collected half a liter with difficulty using my Smartwater bottle, then used my CNOC water bag to collect a liter, which went much easier. I hadn’t carried the bag in the north past Duncannon where I sent it home, but had brought it down south because this area is dryer and a lot of the sources seem to be off trail down ridges.
I had three more small climbs and two easy descents on my way to the hostel, and it felt good to feel my body working it’s way up a little bit of elevation gain.
I found myself in a flow state, rotating albums on my Spotify including Glass Animals, BØRNS, The Weeknd, Mac Miller, and finally rounding off my day with The Swan Princess movie soundtrack. I was going to let myself listen to whatever I wanted to help ease back into my normal hiking self.
At Snickers Gap I crossed VA Route 7, where I had to run across four lanes of highway, and had a sketchy moment when a Mack truck came barreling down a bend in the road I couldn’t see past.
I spent a while reading the informational board partway up the climb, and admired the carved wood icons of various animals and plants found on the trail.
I hiked by Bears Den Rocks .1 before the hostel spur trail, which had lovely views. I arrived at the hostel, which is a large stone building that looks like a castle, at 4PM.
I was glad I’d spent the day having a late start, long breaks, and stretched out my miles to get to the hostel in the afternoon.
I was enjoying giving myself a break in period to the southern portion, and doing lower mileage days to adjust to the difference in temperature, humidity, wildlife, and transition away from my northbound experience.
Bear’s Den Hostel main area was closed till 5, but the hiker lounge was open 24/7. I used the key code I found in the guide to unlock the door, and picked a lower bunk in the first room downstairs.
I was the first to arrive, so I immediately took a shower and donned town clothes. Uncle Iroh got there while I was braiding my hair, and I chatted with him for a bit while he decided if he was going to stay for the night.
Tessa got to the hostel after a bit as well, and we went upstairs at 5:30 to purchase the hiker special: $35 for a bunk, laundry, shower, pizza, soda, and a pint of Ben & Jerry’s.
Compared to up north where bunks were $30-$35 and typically only included a shower, with up charges for laundry and meals, that was the most value for the money I’d seen in a long time. It was true what other hikers said – the south was cheaper.
The frozen pizzas were a good size, and I chose a taco pizza while Tessa made a supreme. We hung out with Iroh while we ate and I perused a People magazine from March that was in the common area.
Bard and an older woman hiker got to the hostel for overnight stays later in the evening as well. The woman was named Ghost, and had hiked Georgia to Virginia before, and was on her way up to Shaw’s to begin the 100 Mile Wilderness to Katahdin.
I had the pleasure of giving Tessa her first actual pack shakedown by a current thru hiker, and managed to shed between 5-7 pounds off her base weight, with 4-5 pounds more to go when she would be able to exchange multiple pieces of gear in a few days.
It was my first time giving someone a shakedown, and I found it a thoroughly enjoyable experience. For the first time I felt confident enough to give advice I had learned over 2,000 miles of backpacking over the years.
Ghost hung out with us during the second half of the shakedown, and we had a great time cracking jokes and messing around while the guys hung out with the caretaker upstairs in the common room.
It was a late night, and we ended up turning in around 11PM after laundry and socializing. I had a wonderful second day of my flop (or is this the flip?) start to finish, and was feeling like my normal Amelia self again.
I knew taking on Virginia was going to be a long journey in itself, over 550 miles of trail, encompassing the longest trail state by far. I had already hiked the vast majority of Virginia in 2015, going north except for the Shenandoah section, which we hiked south.
Luckily, Virginia had been my favorite trail state since then, so I was excited for a chance to revisit all the memories I had here, and to make new ones as I progressed.
I’d been fortunate the first couple days of this new part of my hike to spend time with really lovely people and get to have the social experience I enjoyed, while getting accustomed to a more independent style of hiking.
I knew everything could change tomorrow, so I was keeping my expectations in check and making sure I was ready to go with the flow and hike my own hike whenever necessary.
SOBOs were definitely a different breed I was finding. They were typically strong hikers, which I already knew was a requirement, they didn’t seem to mind carrying all sorts of extra weight (Early Bird said he almost never carries less than 40 pounds, and Uncle Iroh was carrying two physical books and two journals), and were are largely independent and self-sufficient.
I was starting to think it was going to be really interesting having the SOBO experience. In a way I was getting to do my hike half and half, and experience both sides of the same coin.
I could draw the strengths as I perceived them from both NOBOs and SOBOs, and use that to become the best version of a backpacker I could be.
I could see now that hiking past the SOBOs during Vermont, New Hampshire, and Maine had barely scratched the surface of what they were like and how they differed from the NOBOs.
It seemed it could be a wonderful gift that I’d be able to gain twice the knowledge and experience on one trail by hiking it two different ways.
Maybe I was exactly where I was meant to be, and being open to the experience was going to take me farther than I could have ever gone if I tried to wish things were any different than the way they were.