Lost Mountain Shelter 1706.4 to Damascus, VA 1722.4 (16 miles, 1722.4 total miles)
Although the temperature dropped below freezing for a second night, I was still comfortable sleeping in my tent with the fly on. I had to imagine it was warmer than staying in the shelter.
I’d found out the night before that it was unseasonably cold, and we were in for a very cold winter as well. I had assumed this was normal, having never lived outside in the south during fall.
Slice told me later that in past years the days had stayed in the 80s till November. I had been wondering why people say flip floppers get better weather, but now I understand this isn’t the norm. It does make me feel tougher and like I’ve been handling the cold very well, however.
I tried to get up at 6AM, but it was just too cold and dark, so I was moving around 7 again. It had been so long since I slept in my tent with the fly, I had to consider what the order of events should be.
I packed up and was hiking by 8:48, after all but one of the section hikers had left. I was feeling rather tired, and realized after today’s miles I would have hiked almost 160 miles in 8 days.
My original plan was to spend a night in Damascus after hiking 16 today, then do 10 the next day, and 32 the day after, so I could say I’d done a 30, then have a zero after that.
However, the run of days going up to Damascus had been too much for me to want to keep with that plan. I know I could have easily done an extra 4 miles the day I did my marathon, but had needed to stop in Atkins to get my shoes.
I decided I would most likely take a zero in Damascus and contemplate my mileage from there. The 30 wasn’t off the table completely, but I was in need of a day to rest both physically and mentally.
I had an idea I could complete the 16 miles to Damascus by 3:00, but wasn’t in a total rush since I was thinking I was going to zero. I wanted to make it before 5:00 to get a couple packages I’d had sent to an outfitter, so I could keep my options open if I did decide to hike tomorrow after all.
I tried not to overthink it, because I knew I’d make a decision when I needed to and go from there. I used to get panicky making these decisions, and sometimes have to stop hiking to decide what to do. I felt I’d made great progress on choosing when it was time, and letting things be before I needed to know my next move.
I hiked a short incline to start, then began a mile of descent toward a gravel road. As I stood by the road having a sip of water, I realized water droplets were falling on me. I looked up, confused because there was not a cloud in the sky around.
I kept going on the downslope, passing the river where Slice and the others had camped last night. The temperature dropped quite a bit, and I felt glad about the choice I’d made, knowing it was always colder next to water.
It was then that I realized the falling water that was continuing probably belonged to frost melting on the leaves above me. I climbed onto the Laurel Creek Bridge, an enormous bridge on the Virginia Creeper Trail.
As I crossed, I was eye level with hundred foot tall trees that sported yellow and orange leaves glowing in the morning sun. I spotted my first frost glistening like diamonds on the railing of the bridge, and watched water flowing beneath.
It took several minutes to cross this bridge, continuing to stop and admire the scene in front of me. It made sleeping and packing in the freezing cold supremely worth it.
The trail followed the Virginia Creeper for a little while before turning back into the woods. The Creeper is a very popular rails-to-trails bike route going into Damascus.
Sometimes thru hikers take advantage of the flat, level ground and walk to Damascus on the Creeper. In that moment it certainly tempted me, but I continued to follow the AT faithfully as I’d done this hike, thinking maybe on a subsequent thru hike I could let myself be a little more flexible.
I passed by the father and son section hikers taking a break and waved to them as I went along. The AT began ascending for almost 3 miles, while paralleling the Creeper. It was Columbus Day, and I saw several people biking through the trees to my left.
A couple small but steep ups and downs took me past Saunders Shelter, which was a quarter mile off trail, so I wasn’t stopping there for a break. I dropped a couple miles from there, switchbacking down the mountain.
In a small valley I passed a tiny waterfall, and ran into Pits. He was a section hiker who had his van and motorcycle with him, and would hike 20 miles a day, then ride the bike back to the van, or vice versa.
I liked Pits a lot, and had seen him moving north the past three days. He had a kindly demeanor and plenty of questions about my hike, so I stopped for 10 minutes or so to chat with him.
I had to find a spot to pull over and dig a cat hole after a flatter mile or two, and spent a few minutes sitting in the rhododendron grove I’d found back from the trail, eating a snickers bar, drinking caffeine and consulting the guide.
I’d been taking my time hiking, and saw I was slated to arrive in Damascus around 3:30 or 4:00 now. Reluctantly I picked my pack back up and got moving, more than ready for a rest day.
I passed several more section hikers as I continued on, and noticed something interesting. When they asked me where I was going, I told them Springer.
Because I was now less than 500 miles from my destination, I’d started receiving “congratulations” as a regular answer to that statement. It reminded me vividly of hearing NOBOs have that same conversation about Katahdin in New Hampshire and Maine. It was beginning to feel more and more real to me.
I stopped to collect and filter a liter of water, noting how much less I needed to drink in the cold weather, before climbing a couple easy miles to the next ridge.
My mind had been churning, even though I’d been listening to an audiobook and music starting 5 miles into my day today. At one point, I stopped and sobbed right on trail for a few minutes when no one else was around, letting out the emotions that threatened to derail me momentarily.
I had a nice little view up on the ridge of the changing leaves, and stopped for a few minutes to catch up with my friends via text when I saw I had service. Slice messaged me to tell her I was in town, so I let her know I was 3 miles away and would see her soon.
After the ridge, I had a couple steep miles down, hearing road noise as I moved ever closer to town. I reached Route 58, crossed it, and started back on the Creeper trail into Damascus.
A woman almost collided with me on a bike, coming up very fast and warning me rather late. I moved over to the right from there on, as dozens of people on bikes passed me on the left.
As I walked next to the road, busy lanes of traffic were to my right. It was a little overwhelming, hiking into Damascus on Columbus Day. Of course, I’d been to Trail Days twice, which was much crazier and intense many times over.
I followed the white blazes off the Creeper and onto sidewalks, where I could stop worrying about bikes but still needed to watch out for vehicles as the trail took me past many driveways leading to businesses.
I walked through the center of the very small town, recognizing where I’d already walked during the hiker parade in 2015. After about a mile of road walking I reached Adventure Damascus.
As I was approaching, I heard a yell and saw White Walker and Hippy Gandalf waving at me, both in town clothes and looking very clean. I told them I was probably zeroing in town tomorrow, and was pleased to hear they were going to as well.
They told me a big group was in town, including Peacock and The Bard, and everyone was getting dinner at 5:30. I grabbed my rain pants I had ordered to the outfitter, finding out the other package was at the post office still and I could get it tomorrow.
It was 4:20, so I hurried over to The Place to get showered and ready for dinner. Bayou, an older and jolly gentleman with an infectious laugh, checked me into a bunk next to where Slice was sleeping.
The Place is a very large building with the bottom floor a church run hostel that is the oldest one on the AT. There is no heat, and the bunks are wooden requiring us to use our own sleeping pads and bags, but there are hot showers and coffee in the morning.
The Place requests a $10 donation per night, so it was the perfect way to save a few dollars on a stay in town. I thought I’d see how cold I slept that night and decide if I wanted to stay there a second night or pay for a warmer bunk at one of the other spots in town.
After Slice was done showering we caught up on our days, and I took a hot shower and changed into my sleep clothes, which were the cleanest I had. There was no laundry at The Place, therefore no town clothes.
We met everyone at 7 Trails Grill, a local restaurant that was rather busy for the holiday. We’d run into Beer Girl in town and, though she didn’t remember meeting me briefly, she’d been hearing about me nearby.
She had joined us, and so had a special guest: Acadicus from Hikers Welcome. He was done caretaking for the season, and about to get started on a string of long hikes he’d put together out west next week.
In the meantime, he’d been kind enough to offer to stop by and do trail magic for us on his way through. There were ten of us by the time Wawa arrived as well, and it was an amazing time having dinner with the whole group I’d been at Woods Hole with.
I was extra proud of KT and I, as we’d hiked out a full day after everyone else. Wawa had even hiked out a day after KT and I and still caught up. It was really cool to be around a group of fast hikers that I paced well with at the moment. I was still hiking solo, but getting to be with some truly amazing company as well.
The Bard came out and said hi and ate his dinner with us quickly, as he’d found a temporary job working in the kitchen to make a few dollars while hiking. It was fantastic to see him for the first time since Front Royal, which was only a week into my southern half.
After a couple very fun hours at dinner, we all cashed out and walked back to our various hostels, Slice and I the only ones at The Place for the night.
She was going to hike the 10 and 30 the next couple days, and I was planning on catching up to her again when she slowed down to hike with friends next weekend. I was really glad to be around her, and feeling extremely grateful for all the amazing people the trail had brought to me. I couldn’t have planned it better myself.