Glasgow, VA 1407 to Thunder Hill Shelter 1421.8 (14.8 miles, 1421.8 total miles)
After a nice night of sleep in a real bed, I got up around 8AM, as I’d decided to take the late shuttle back to the trail since I was only hiking around 15 miles, and thought it would be nice to spend some time with my hiking partner before departing by myself.
Captain Hook had taken the early shuttle and was gone, but Charlie had left a platter of a dozen blueberry pancakes in the kitchen for Iroh and I, which we scarfed down with plenty of butter and syrup.
I finished my coffee by the time Charlie arrived around 10AM. I said my goodbyes to Iroh, feeling rather anxious about going off alone, but knowing I’d done it many times before, and I would be fine after a little while.
I was back at the trailhead just after 10:30, backtracking a tiny bit from the parking lot to the road where I’d left off. I crossed the James River Bridge as the first part of my day, feeling slightly sick to my stomach.
The day was lovely, a perfect, sunny Sunday, so I saw a group of day hikers right away, and a couple people taking kayaks out on the river. The James River Bridge is almost 1,000 feet long, and holds the distinction of the longest footbridge on the Appalachian Trail.
I read the inscription regarding William T. Foot, who the bridge is dedicated to. He seemed like a very interesting man, and I found it fascinating that he and his wife had been the first to hike the American Discovery Trail, something I’d thought about doing for many years.
As the trail followed next to the James for a while, I realized I hadn’t hiked alongside a river since the 100 Mile Wilderness. It was a nice feeling, with a cool breeze coming off the water, making my hair dance around my face, the soft sound of waves lapping at the shore in my ears.
It was an easy 2 miles to the shelter, during which I took the time to sit with my feelings mentally, letting them come and go, deciphering my thoughts into a walking meditation.
I was in a much better headspace when I saw the shelter up ahead, a woman sitting at the picnic table with her back to me. I wasn’t sure if I was in the mood to socialize or not, thinking I might just pass by.
Upon my approach, I saw there was a man across the table, and as I got a good look at him I was happy to see it was none other than Rude, my fellow flip flopper friend from the first half of my hike who I’d last ran into near Waynesboro last week.
Rude was with his friend Lucia, who was slackpacking him for the day. He was in fine spirits as always, and of course had to give me a good natured hard time about catching back up to me because I like my zeros.
I told him about my adventures at Devils Backbone Brewery and bringing a new logbook to the Priest Shelter, and he told me how his hike was going since I’d last seen him.
He was taking a day off tomorrow to work on replacing a piece of gear, and said Daddy Long Legs was only about 90 miles ahead of him on trail, since he’d done his flop further south than we had.
As I was speaking with Rude after Lucia left to go to the car, another few hikers had walked up. Apparently everyone but me had seen a copperhead on the trail that I must have walked right past, though fortunately it had apparently not seen me as a threat.
The three hikers turned out to be a SOBO named Seeker, and a couple of his family members that had come out to hike with him for a few days.
Seeker seemed like a nice person, with a ginger beard that had a shock of white and gray going through the middle, though he had plenty of youthful energy to him. He also had a leg tattoo to commemorate his thru hike that he’d gotten in Vermont that I really liked.
I left first, feeling much better now that I’d run into other thru hikers and had processed my feelings of transition, which can always be a little difficult for me.
Rude caught up to me about a mile past the shelter on an incline, and I let him zoom past, sprightly with his lightweight daypack. I was still working on moderating my pace, so I was happy to let him go by.
Most of the day was climbing, with 5,200 feet of elevation gain over the 14.8 miles I was hiking. When I was higher on the ridge I found cell service, and used it to redownload Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, which had been removed from my Libro.fm app because of an update.
I had been meaning to resume listening to the Harry Potter books, not having listened to an audiobook in a while and missing that. Seeker passed by while I was standing on the trail, and I let him go ahead after a brief conversation about our destination for the day, which seemed to be the same location.
After a chapter or two, I arrived at a brook 4 miles into the day, where Seeker said he’d decided to have lunch and I thought I’d join him, wanting the conversation.
As I gathered water and ate a Promeal bar for lunch, I learned that Seeker is from Maryland, worked for a conservation corps company and is very familiar with the trail and maintenance, and is hoping to be done hiking before Halloween so he can attend his neighbors celebration of life who just passed away.
I had a great time talking with Seeker about our hikes and experiences, and he said he’d contemplated a flip flop, but had been worried he wouldn’t have the motivation to get back on trail after Katahdin, which I totally understood, and think is one of the biggest challenges of hiking this way. I told him how I’d used a bevy of psychological tricks and planning to make sure I got back to Harpers Ferry to start my second half.
I saw that Seeker had been using earbuds earlier in the day, and asked him what he usually listened to. It’s not a question I normally ask unless I know someone well, but had to laugh when he told me he listens to Harry Potter on trail.
A man arrived heading north as we were getting ready to depart, and introduced himself as Shower Cap. He was very friendly and enthusiastic, with all sorts of questions about our hikes, and told us he was section hiking with three friends behind him.
Shower Cap carries a walkie talkie, and a highly unique walking stick that appears to be made of a pool stick with a striped ball on top of it, and is finishing the Virginia section of the AT this coming week.
We congratulated him on the accomplishment, before continuing on up another mile of steep climb. I let Seeker go first, again just not interested in competing with other hikers anymore, and enjoying that feeling.
After reaching the ridge, there was a nice few miles of easy hiking along the side of the mountains, beautiful views in the distance of other peaks just visible through the trees.
I stopped at the spur trail to Marble Spring shortly after 3PM, wanting a little break before making my way up Highcock Knob, which of course had several amusing comments attached to it in Far Out.
I sat on a log for half an hour, impatiently batting tiny flies and gnats away from my ears and eyes. They had recently come back with a vengeance, and I watched bees buzz around my feet, saw grasshoppers and crickets making their way through the grasses as well.
After a few snacks, propel, and crystal light, I switched to music for the 1.2 mile climb of 700 feet, then went back to my book as I descended down to Petites Gap Road, starting to feel a bit tired as golden hour approached.
I still wasn’t used to the days being so much shorter, and stopped a mile and a half from Petites Gap at Harrison Ground Spring at 5:15 to collect water for camp with another 3.4 to go to the shelter.
The water was in a pool full of green algae, and I found myself wishing I’d gotten water .4 before at a different spring. I collected three liters of water in my CNOC and water bottle, trying and failing to avoid the algae, deciding to filter it at camp instead of the water source.
That still took 15 minutes, and when I was climbing again I could feel the extra 6.6 pounds I’d just added to my pack pulling downward on my back, making my shoulders protest.
Things got a little easier after that, on a more gradual uphill, but I was seriously thrown off when I walked up to Thunder Ridge Overlook and saw an entire wedding had just taken place in the small clearing and photos were now being conducted.
It was disconcerting, especially because the wedding party and guests just didn’t seem to be that friendly. I waited awkwardly to walk through the group to get to the stone overlook as they ignored me, though they were standing directly on the trail.
Finally someone told me I could pass through, and I inhaled a potent mixture of perfume and cologne as I did so. My “congratulations” to the bride and groom was likewise ignored, though the giggles as I walked back through the party told me they were certainly aware I was there. I was sure they could smell me just as well as I could smell them.
I tried to follow the trail, and ended up in a parking lot, where I was at least able to dump my trash. A cutesy chalkboard sign near the spur trail told me whose wedding it was.
I saw on my phone I was not on the trail anymore, and sighed as I made my way back to the group at the overlook. Determined not to cross through them again, I awkwardly climbed around some rocks to get back on trail, a pristine, white handled lint roller sitting on a stone next to me highlighted how out of place the whole thing felt right then.
Relieved, I hurried on up the slope, crossing the Blue Ridge Parkway, and putting on some pump up music to get me ascending the last mile to shelter. It seemed to work, because I energetically made my way up in good time, happy to see the spur trail just before 7:00.
Skeeter was sitting at the picnic table getting ready to make dinner when I showed up, and he set up his tent nearby while I had the shelter to myself, which is always a nice feeling.
I made the Knorr pasta side I bought in Buena Vista with tuna, sad I didn’t have any more fancy backpacking meals to eat. It was the first time I’d made food in my cook pot in about a month, though it didn’t taste all that bad.
I chatted with Skeeter while eating, and read some of Grandma Gatewood’s Walk in the growing darkness until I was forced to turn on my headlamp.
Skeeter turned in around 8, and I fought a little anxiety at being by myself in the shelter, hearing critters scurrying about and trying not to think about the scary movie Iroh and I had watched in Glasgow.
I felt calmer and more self assured than I had the last several times I’d ended up by myself on trail at different points. I had traveled over 200 miles with Iroh so I definitely missed hiking with him, but knew it was only temporary.
It had been lucky to run into Rude and meet Skeeter today, and it was a nice change of pace to have some time to myself and start listening to my first book in quite a long time.
I couldn’t wait to see Shrek and catch up with her, and was really anticipating some of my favorite parts of the trail coming up in southern Virginia. I’d begun seeing more fall colors today, and the beauty of nature continued to call to my soul and made me feel alive. I couldn’t think of a thing that wasn’t going exactly the way it was meant to right then and there.