War Spur Shelter 1523.7 to Rice Field Shelter 1548.9 (25.2 miles, 1548.9 total miles)
It was a cold night, and a very cold and dark morning. I slept with my head under my quilt for most of the night, till I woke up having trouble breathing. I deflated my pillow some, and heard the distant sound of howls as I tried to drift off again.
6AM came and went. Then 6:30, and finally 6:45 when I was finally able to get up, roused from dreams where I’d already packed my bag and was hiking out.
Sadly, I definitely still had to pack, though the preparation I’d done the night before certainly helped. I had to change into my hiking clothes to put my warm layers on over them, and contemplated just going to bed like that the next evening.
I started hiking at 7:30, without having eaten any breakfast or drank caffeine. I was grateful to have a climb to start my day, something I used to dislike during warmer weather.
I could see the sun rising through leaves that were turning with autumn, and stopped when I began to warm up, stripping off my rain coat, fleece, and wool hat, but leaving on my leggings.
I drank half the Bang energy shot I’d been carrying since Glasgow, and ate poptarts that Iroh had given me as I continued on. After 2 miles of hiking, I stopped at a trail junction to find a spot to dig a hole just before 8:30.
Half a mile more climbing, I reached the ridge and stopped after another 3 miles to check out Wind Rock. I was surprised to see a view from the short side trail, as the sky above had been a solid pale gray for the last hour.
Instead of cloudy spots over the mountains, there were little sun spots here and there, and in the distance I could see a sunny ridge that appeared to be in the direction I was hiking.
There were no pastures visible from Wind Rock, just an endless expanse of forest with one house planted in the center. Beautiful bare trees save for the moss that covered them reached plaintive fingers skyward.
I switch off airplane mode, hoping to have service soon as I continued along the path, almost missing a sudden left turn with no double blaze to indicate the change of direction.
I found strong signal when I reached VA 613, and stopped for a while, where Peacock passed me by with a hello. I couldn’t believe he was casually hiking in short sleeves and shorts, cold as I was.
I’d heard from Iroh, who told me they were staying at the Plaza Motel in Pearisburg until they could get antibiotics for Sydney.
I soon made the mistake of overcomplicating and under-explaining things, as I realized I could hike 23 more miles in addition to the 5 I’d already done, and get a shuttle at a road to meet them there.
It would only be 3 more miles than I had planned, plus I would then only have about 16 miles to hike to Woods Hole Hostel from the road in the morning. I’d wanted to hike a bigger day today than tomorrow because the hurricane rain and wind was supposed to start tomorrow.
Communication didn’t work very well, and I ended up wasting a good amount of daylight, angry at myself for squandering it as I continued on, still unsure of my plan.
I was freezing cold on the ridge and had put on my fleece to hike in for a couple miles, annoyed that I kept having to stop to adjust my layers when I needed to pack it away again after a while.
As I began to descend from the ridge, I saw a hiker going north, who offered me a wristband to do laundry at Angel’s Rest Hostel. I thanked him, but told him I was going to Woods Hole, though he did indeed smell like fresh laundry.
The hiker told me he’d stayed at Pine Swamp Branch Shelter the night before and Slice had been there as well. In fact, Fresh Grounds had stayed too, the notorious trail angel who I kept missing by mere hours.
He’d made them breakfast that morning, and I was happy to hear Slice had gotten such great trail magic, though I was still determined to run into Fresh Grounds one day.
After departing from there, I descended over half a mile to Big Stony Creek Road, where I met a section hiker going north who’d been at the shelter as well the evening before.
I talked with him for a bit, then pressed on over a beautiful large bridge over the creek, listening to Harry Potter complete the first task of the Triwizard Tournament aloud on my phone.
That was something I wouldn’t normally do, but I’d accidentally packed my earbuds in my puffy jacket. I made sure to pause the audiobook each time I saw someone, before I was able to get my earbuds out at lunch.
I saw two more young men hiking north, one looked like a section hiker and was leaning against a tree looking sick, though he said he didn’t need anything.
The second one was called Crazy Blazer, and it seemed to suit him well. He was a traditional NOBO, who’d started June 6th at Amicalola and was going to hike through winter to reach Katahdin.
Through rhododendron groves and up and over little valley bumps I hiked to lunch at Pine Swamp Branch Shelter, arriving at 1:30.
I’d taken off my leggings on the way, feeling the lovely valley warmth of the sunny fully out now, my legs feeling free and unburdened in my shorts again.
The shelter was quite nice, with an actual fireplace and chimney on the back wall, though someone had left a plethora of things on one of the bunks, including water bottles, a cook pot, etc.
I ate a bagel with cream cheese, a packet of goldfish, and finished my energy shot sitting on the picnic table. I packed away my leggings and retrieved my earbuds, stopping to use the privy on my way out.
At 2:00, I swung my pack over my shoulder, when I heard the unmistakable sound of a tree starting to fall. It thundered down, enormous by the sound of it, and somewhere very near the trail area that I’d just been hiking on.
Spooked, I started up the ridge, away from where the sound had been. It was the third tree I’d heard fall in the forest, this one the closest and loudest by far, my mind sifting through the variables that had ensured I hadn’t been hiking there when it fell.
I put on Everlong Radio, which I’d downloaded from Spotify in Daleville, and jammed out to rock music as I made my way up the incline to the next ridge.
My stomach was uncomfortably full, and I felt weighed down until I realized I’d hiked the .9 to the water source in 15 minutes, which boosted my morale. I collected almost a liter for later, and continued on.
The climb got much easier after that, as I traversed great long switchbacks for another mile and a half, only graded at 500 ft/mi.
I was zooming up the incline, as I’d now consumed 300 mg of caffeine over the day. Sublime, The Killers, and Foo Fighters urging me on ever faster.
Of course, came the inevitable crash up on the ridge, a few miles later. I investigated what a shuttle into town would cost, which slowed me down, then found out getting my puffy jacket sent to me had ended up being $76 so it would arrive while I was at Woods Hole.
Irritable from too much caffeine, and being really mean to myself for some reason, I broke down into tears after stopping to pee at one point.
Malia cheered me up immensely when she insisted on paying $25 of the shipping cost to help me out. I knew I’d have to spend two or three nights in town to avoid the weather coming, and hoped I could maybe do work for stay while I was there.
I was by no means at a point where I needed to be concerned about money, but I had certainly reached a point of spending on this trip that seemed excessive to me, and I knew there would be other hikes to pay for in the next few years.
I hiked on, listening to one of my comfort playlists. My feet were in quite a lot of pain, not having hiked a 20+ mile day in a while, and wearing my thin cushioned socks. Not helping was the treads on my shoes being almost gone, and my insoles having 1,000 miles on them.
The ridge was extremely rocky, and my feet were taking a beating, as several times I stubbed my toes on rocks, or tripped over them. I saw a couple distant views, though mostly I was just hiking through large areas of thorny and flowery undergrowth that snagged at my clothes.
I passed a random small herd of goats that had apparently been living on the ridge for some time, and seemed to want to aggressively approach me, so I ran up the trail, laughing at the absurdity of it.
I made the mistake of eating some energy gel I had in my fanny pack with 20mg of caffeine, thinking it would help. All it did was spiral me down further into a very self-loathing place I didn’t even think existed in me anymore.
Frustrated, I made the decision to spend the night in the woods. With more daylight, it would be easy to hike another 3 miles, but I would be getting to camp at sunset as it was.
I hiked through beautiful fields with plenty of apple trees and my first real views of the day. It cheered me up a little to see mountains behind me, and town below, though I didn’t stop for more than a few seconds to check it out.
At one point I saw I was 2.4 away from the closest water source to the shelter for SOBOs, where there was a tentsite as well. Little though I wanted to camp alone, I gave myself an out there if I needed it to not continue on to the shelter.
I got to the spur trail at 6:15, where it took 5 minutes to collect 2 liters and chug the half a liter I’d been carrying with Liquid IV. I decided to keep going 1.4 to the shelter, where I could catch the sunset and most likely be around other hikers.
I’d been on autopilot for miles now, and resumed it as I kept hiking. Through it all, I was enjoying the feeling of hiking a big day again, pushing past the limit my body thought it could go, using my mind to extract more from myself.
I ate a fig bar as I hiked through a beautiful power line view, the sun shining on me and in my eyes, still feeling surprisingly warm. I tripped my way through a forest section with more rocks, before emerging into an open field of my last .2 for the day.
Donning sunglasses as I was now being blinded, I made my way up the hill, where I passed a tent, and could see a spectacular sunset was indeed on the menu for tonight.
Arriving at the shelter just off trail, I was pleased to see Slice, Peacock, and a woman section hiking eating dinner at the picnic table with a fire going in the grate.
It was a little before 7PM, and I was grateful to have made it to the lovely shelter. I began to set up my things between Slice and the woman, who I later found out was named Anna, making conversation with everyone.
As my food rehydrated, I joined the others back on the hill to watch the beautiful show in the sky. It was the first real sunset I’d seen since being in the Whites, the rest of the visible ones happening through the trees as I hiked.
It was gorgeous and vivid, but I went back after a few minutes to put on my warm clothes, now starting to feel cold again, and eat my dinner. Peacock was the one tenting, but I talked with the Slice and Anna for a while.
Unfortunately, Slice’s other knee was now bothering her, though she was planning on trying to hike to Woods Hole tomorrow, where we knew we’d both probably have to take a couple days off.
I wasn’t sure if I’d get a ride to Woods Hole from Pearisburg or hike all the way. Either way, I’d resume where I left off. I’d been monitoring the weather, though, and the rain and wind had moved up from 4PM to 2PM, and I doubted I could finish 19 miles before then.
Maybe in the summer when I could start at 6AM, but it didn’t seem possible now, plus hiking to the hostel required climbing down from the ridge and up the next one, a sketchy place to be during a hurricane.
I’d have to see in the morning how things were looking, and what I could do. It wasn’t worth endangering myself, as Sunshine told me earlier today when we talked. As reluctant as I had been to admit it before Franconia Ridge, she’d been right then and was right now.