Pass Mountain Hut 1248.7 to Rock Spring Hut 1264 (15.3 miles, 1264 total miles)
I slept well, but snoozed my 6AM alarm several times, not getting up until the sun had risen at 6:45. After following the sunrise cycle for months, my body was resisting my attempts to change that.
I was ready to hike out by 8:30, when I stopped to chat with Hillary and Nick for a minute about travel non fiction. I wished them well, and got back to the AT by 8:42.
I was carrying a liter and a half of water, not wanting to stop at the parking lot with a spigot or the shelter 4.4 ahead with water a quarter mile down a blue blaze, willing to work with the extra weight to save time.
I had a mile of descent to get warmed up, enjoying the cloudless, mild day so far. The weather was calling for a 30% chance of rain and thunderstorms throughout the day, but for now it was clear as could be.
Past Skyline drive, the trail began to ascend for the climb up to Mary’s Rock, 1161 feet over 1.8 miles. I passed several people on my way up, remembering it was Labor Day weekend.
I was up the 1.6 past the power lines in 35 minutes, enjoying the switchbacks and steps up the mountain. I continued .1 on a blue blaze to get to the view, which I’d read was a good one.
There were quite a lot of people up top, but I had my music in and kept to myself, enjoying the view and cell service for half an hour, watching as a few gray clouds appeared overhead.
I was feeling a lot better today, and stronger mentally, as I began a mile and a half ridge walk and descent down to Byrds Nest #3 Hut, passing several cliff views and day hikers.
A 500 foot climb over a mile brought me to The Pinnacle. I pushed myself to hike fast, but wasn’t trying to burn myself out, since I had a big day tomorrow, and was on day eight in a row of hiking without a zero day
A mile and a half of descent and flat hiking had me at Pinnacle Picnic Grounds. I’d been intending to stop there for water, but still had enough to get me 4 more miles to Skyland Resort, where I was planning on having lunch.
My intent was to complete the 11 miles to Skyland in four hours, and crossing the campground at 11:36 had me somewhat tracking to achieve that.
However, the sky overhead was looking rather sketchy, and I felt sure it was going to rain soon. I thought about taking cover at the picnic grounds, but felt the rain wasn’t coming soon enough to justify stop.
Forty minutes later, I passed a view that reminded me exactly of one the right before Delaware Water Gap, where I’d eaten my weight in pepperoni, cheese, and tortillas.
It started sprinkling then, and I stopped after a minute under a big pine tree, needing a quick bathroom break. To my surprise, it began pouring rain around me, but the six foot stretch of trail under the tree was remaining perfectly dry.
I sat on the side of the trail for half an hour, while rain drove in sheets on either side of me, as I chilled in my little dry spot. I had cell service and snacks, and I waited out the rain patiently, thoroughly shocked that the rain wasn’t even making its way through the pine needles and onto me, as would normally be the case.
I saw quite a few day hikers pass by, drenched from the downpour, and felt more than a little lucky to have ended up in the right place at the right time.
The rain stopped and started up again a few times, but I trusted I’d know when it was time to hike out. After the storm clouds looked like they’d moved sufficiently, and I saw a bit of blue sky going south, I decided to take the chance and get moving again.
I had 2.5 miles to go to the resort, with a couple miles of climbing 800 feet up to Stony Man Mountain, with an optional blue blaze to the peak that I didn’t take, as it was .3 off trail.
About halfway up the mountain, I hiked by Little Stony Man Cliffs, where unfortunately the cliffs were just absolutely covered with people, looking at me very curiously for some reason.
Feeling self conscious, I hurried past, not getting a chance to enjoy the the views or craggy cliffs. There were several people hiking toward me, none of them seeming to know the person going uphill has the right of way.
The trail past the top of the mountain grew very wide on the descent, but was covered in day hikers. I got stuck behind a group of eight, and had to skirt around them the best I could on the side of the trail to move past.
I wasn’t quiet when I hiked up behind people, hiking with trekking poles, but several times I had to ask if I could pass by today.
Don’t get me wrong, I am definitely a day hiker when I am not thru hiking, it just feels very jarring to have the trail all to myself most of the time, then suddenly shift to being around so many people who are only out for a day or two.
As I was getting closer to Skyland, I started to have the feeling that it wasn’t going to be quite the laid back experience I’d had the day before at Elkwallow Wayside. There were just so many more people out today, and Skyland was a large place with a lodge and an actual restaurant.
As I made my way down a short side trail to Skyland, I saw my hunch was correct. The entire parking lot was full, and there were people all over the place.
Feeling even more self conscious, my anxiety returning, I found a place next to one of the buildings to drop my pack, and went inside to get the lay of the land.
I found the restrooms downstairs, and saw that the restaurant had a long line to get in. The restaurant was open for lunch from 12-3, and I’d arrived at 1:30, but there was no way I wanted to wait to sit and eat, knowing it would take much longer than I wanted.
My hopes of hot food dashed, I asked a kind woman at the lodge counter where the grab and go was. Turned out it was at the Starbucks in the other building, so I backtracked there and got in line, absolutely famished.
I saw what looked like just one sandwich left, but didn’t want to cut in front of the person ahead to grab it. When she reached over and took it, my blood sugar was so low I nearly cried.
When I reached the register, I asked the man working if there were any sandwiches left. He said he would check, and after a few minutes came back with a ham sandwich.
I bought an iced latte and a cinnamon roll as well, taking them outside to eat. There were so many people about, that I ate sitting on the sidewalk next to my pack by myself, feeling a bit like an alien species.
The ham sandwich was incredible, though it definitely wasn’t objectively that great, I just have an appetite that can’t really be sated anymore.
I went back inside to get my water bottle filled and to heat up the cinnamon roll in the microwave, which I devoured by hand back on the sidewalk.
My blood sugar stabilized, I was ready to get out of there and be back in the woods. It was a shame, because there was a beautiful grassy lawn I would love to have dried my other hiking shirt and socks on, but I felt much too uncomfortable and out of place to do so.
I don’t know to explain why I felt so awkward. If I’d been with other thru hikers, I don’t think it would have mattered. It was just that my mindset was so different on trail.
I knew I smelled and looked dirty, and I think most people don’t expect a petite woman to be backpacking alone, based on reactions I’ve gotten many times. There’s a reason thru hikers affectionately refer to ourselves as “hiker trash”, and there is safety in numbers and commonality.
It was a huge relief to be back in the forest, into a breezy and sunny ridge walk. I’d already ascended 3,000 feet and descended 2,000 for the day, and the remainder looked like an easy traverse with only a fraction of the elevation.
I found a sunny spot and laid out a few things to dry, but after several minutes, more steel gray clouds began to roll in. I could see ahead to another range that looked like rain was coming down heavily, and figured it would be better to get to the shelter sooner rather than later.
Clouds kept gathering over me, but I told myself to keep my head down and stay moving. It was only another 4.7 from Skyland to the shelter, and if it rained there was nothing I could do about it but hike anyway.
My luck held out, however, as I traversed a series of short ascents and descents, passed a few views, and several rocky sections. The sun finally came back out when I was half a mile from the shelter, and I dropped to a casual stroll on the way in.
There was a .2 side trail down to Rock Spring Hut, which I approached hoping no one else was there. I wanted to stay in the shelter tonight due to the possible rain, plus I could get an earlier start in the morning.
A man arrived right when I got there at 4:20, but I was feeling friendlier than I had yesterday evening, not caught in the middle of a mini panic attack.
I made conversation with him and his partner who arrived a few minutes later. I found out their names were Annie (Melting Pot) and Spencer, and were tenting up on the hill.
Annie/Melting Pot had section hiked in Virginia previously, and they’d both traveled from Houston to do a 47 mile section from Big Meadows to Front Royal. I told them how I was hiking with someone from Texas (Iroh), and how his dad had just come out to join him for a couple days.
Tessa arrived not long after me, and we all chatted and hung out for a while. I got myself set up in the shelter, and tried to finish drying my clothes on the clothesline strung up in the shelter.
I had a Mountain House chili mac for dinner, and realized I’d gotten used to having a dehydrated meal each night since midway through the 100 mile, when Pharm and Longshot had given me some of their resupply, and then Honeybadger and Sunshine had supplemented that after Katahdin.
I knew dehydrated meals were more expensive, but provided extra calories and better nutrition than tuna and ramen. Plus they tasted better, with the added bonus that my cookpot didn’t get dirty, either. I thought I’d continue that trend as I kept hiking.
A couple section hikers arrived around 7 to tent, then one more section hiker got in around dusk, wanting to stay in the shelter. Tessa made room for him, and we got to talking a little.
He was hiking from Troutville, VA to Harpers Ferry, and had been out for a little over a month. His morale was low, and we tried to cheer him up, pointing out how much he’d done already, and how close he was to Harpers.
It had been nice to see Tessa tonight and hang out with her. She’d even told me Rude had reached the B&B yesterday, so it was nice knowing he was only a couple days back.
Tessa was going to continue going north back to the B&B, then look into making up the 13 miles she’d skipped when she needed to get into town and take a zero.
Tessa had a new Gossamer Gear pack like mine, and had exchanged several more items, so she now had a base weight that was probably even less than mine, now that I’d added a book and a couple more pieces of clothing.
I was pleased that I’d been able to help her like that, and found it incredibly fulfilling. Backpacking had become one of the things in life I truly felt I had a talent at, and I loved talking about it and sharing the knowledge I’d gained from much research, trial and error, and learning from other hikers around me.
Of course, I only offered opinions when asked, because no one wants to be told how to hike their hike. When the opportunity arose, however, it made me happy in a very deep and meaningful way.
It had been a good day, with much luck and a little persistence. I was now just shy of my first 100 southern miles completed, which made me a little sad to realize. That was 10% of this portion of my hike, and I hated thinking about it ending.
All good things must, however, and I’d find new adventures and things to keep me happy afterward, I was sure of it. I’d take these lessons with me, and the promise of new trails to come. It wasn’t worth sweating before it happened, that was for sure.