Week 4: Big shoe mistake

Cow Camp Gap Shelter > Catawba Mountain Shelter

Days 22-28

Week 4 AT miles: 101

Total AT miles: 326.6

Four weeks in and I’m still getting the hang of this whole thru-hiking thing. I made the mistake of trading in boots that weren’t quite working for a pair that were way worse. Fortunately I made that mistake on my way into a town with an outfitter, so other than a couple of very painful days, I’m no worse for wear.

Day 22: Cow Camp Gap Shelter > Punchbowl Shelter

15.6 AT miles (3576 feet up, 4255 feet down)

Today was a wonderful day of hiking, though apparently I was too busy enjoying it to take many photos. The few I do have show cloudy skies, but my memory is of sunshine, perhaps because I was so delighted by my surroundings. The trail was incredibly varied, with some trudging up mountains through more knee-high drifts and some beautiful smooth tread that finally allowed me to pick up a bit of speed.

A highlight was walking along the lovely Brown Mountain Creek, which was much more picturesque than it sounds. I realized how rare it has been on the AT to walk along a creek rather than cross it, especially a relatively flat creek. I savored my time on the valley floor, the trail for once rambling along it rather than rushing back up to the ridge.

Despite a slow start, I made it to the shelter around dusk, happy to have spent a full but not exhausting day in the woods.

Day 23: Punchbowl Shelter > James River Bridge

10.6 AT miles (1873 feet up, 3698 feet down)

I got going early this morning to be sure to make my scheduled 2pm pickup for a ride to Stanimal’s Glasgow. I was thrilled to discover that most of the snow had melted overnight. This more southerly section had received less snow to begin with and the trail was now clear, with snow only lingering on fallen logs and piles of leaves. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop and to encounter a long snowy stretch but only ever hit small patches.

With the snow-free trail, I was in such good spirits that I welcomed the atmospheric mizzle that accompanied my first few hours of the day. Almost every hike I took during my autumn living in Scotland was in the same heavy falling mist, so the weather seemed perfect for the day I was headed into a town called Glasgow (the Virginia version rhymes with cow rather than crow).

A little over halfway through I ran into my first hikers in days, members of the Natural Bridge Appalachian Trail Club. These members were out for a hike, but the NBATC also maintains this stretch of the AT. Chatting with them made me realize that I’ve completely forgotten to shout out the different trail maintaining organizations here, even though I mentally thank them many times a day. Since I’m catching up late on blog posts, I’ll save those shout-outs for the zero day I know is coming up.

My morning’s hike got even better by ending with another beautiful stream-side stroll like the one I enjoyed so much yesterday. The crystal clear water alternating between small cascades and deep pools made me want to return in warm weather for a picnic and a dip in the swimming holes. This summer visit was especially nice in my imagination because there weren’t any of the insects that plague actual summer in the woods.

The lack of snow and smooth trail meant that I arrived at 11:30am for my 2pm pickup. Since there’s no cell service in that valley, I hitched a ride to the Glasgow junction and walked the last mile into town. (These types of side miles don’t get included in my running tally, which is why I call all my forward progress miles “AT miles” even when not on the officially designated Appalachian Trail.)

Day 24: James River Bridge > Thunder Hill Shelter

14.8 AT miles (5161 feet up, 1900 feet down)

I was the first guest of the year at Stanimal’s Glasgow, and my faster than expected morning yesterday meant that the team was just finishing getting things spick and span as I arrived. I had a restful night in the cozy house and enjoyed getting to know Jim, the new onsite manager who seems perfect for the job.

The boots I’d been wearing since Harpers Ferry weren’t quite right for this hike, especially in the snow and over rocky trail, so I asked my parents to mail a different pair to Glasgow. Unfortunately I discovered within the first couple of miles what a big mistake I’d made. The replacement boots were the ones I’d used on the Wonderland Trail, and while I remembered a couple of blisters and some discomfort, I’d apparently blocked the true level of pain from my memory. Classic type 2 fun.

To make matters worse, feet tend to spread out over the first few weeks (or longer) of a thru-hike, so there was even less space for my toes than last summer. My imperfect but much more comfortable boots were being whisked back to PA, and I had a 57-mile hike to Daleville, where I could hopefully acquire new boots.

Through a slight haze of foot pain and associated crankiness, I was able to observe the contrasts in today’s hike. The first 10 miles after crossing the James River Bridge had burned a few months ago. In some spots most trees and shrubs seemed to have survived with just the ground scorched, while other patches of forest were completely charred. I appreciated the kind soul(s) who had already come through and repainted all the white blazes marking the trail.

I got to the shelter at dusk, just as the wind picked up and a drizzle stared to blow around. I realized that with the forecast low of 57 tonight most of my recent camp routines were unnecessary. My boots wouldn’t freeze, so I didn’t need to fully loosen the laces and leave them wide enough open to easily slide in my feet. My fuel canister wouldn’t need to be warmed up inside my jacket, and my water bottles wouldn’t freeze even if I left them upright and outside my quilt.

With wind gusts wafting moisture into the shelter every few minutes, I decided to take advantage of the warm night and leave my quilt and other insulating gear safely dry in my pack. I figure staying compressed overnight is probably preferable to getting wet. I instead bedded down in my sleeping bag liner with my rain jacket protecting my feet and lower legs and my all weather parka over the rest of me. Both were soaked by morning but I slept soundly beneath them.

Day 25: Thunder Hill Shelter > Bobblets Gap Shelter

23.7 AT miles (5141 feet up, 7139 feet down)

Starting a significantly longer day with already sore feet was not a great position to be in, especially when that day included so many miles of painful descent. But I knew that those miles were what stood between me and different shoes, so I gingerly walked onward.

I honestly remember very little about this day except the foot pain… and the knee pain that must have started because the foot pain was making me walk funny. I do have some photos of pretty scenery, though, which I’m sure provided excellent opportunities to stop walking for a moment.

Even in my sorry state, I found the rock formation below enchanting, the sort of passageway where there was a small but real chance that you’d end up in a different time or dimension on the other side. Sadly I found myself still in this reality in these uncomfortable boots. (Don’t worry, this post is my peak level of whininess.)

Day 26: Zero day in Daleville

0 AT miles

So… this morning, as I tried to psych myself up for the last 18.5 miles to Daleville, I finally realized that I didn’t actually need to inflict another day of damage on my feet, knee, and whatever was going to start hurting next. I wasn’t alone in the wilderness. I was less than half a mile from the Blue Ridge Parkway and could get a ride into town, purchase new boots, and come back to hike the remaining 18.5 miles in those.

I have no idea why it took over 35 miles of walking in pain for this option to occur to me. As I said in this week’s summary, I’m still getting the hang of this thru-hiking thing.

With this new, much more appealing plan, I looked at the map with fresh eyes and decided to backtrack a couple of miles to Bearwallow Gap and a cross road headed down into the valley. The first vehicle going my direction stopped and a kind man who had turned to farming in his retirement gave me a ride as far as Buchanan, where he needed to pick up a part for his tractor.

From there I had a cell signal and was able to get in touch with Homer, trail angel and trail maintainer extraordinaire, who shuttled me the rest of the way to the outfitter. Learning about his life and work along this stretch of the AT was fascinating, and we were even able to arrange a shuttle for tomorrow morning so I could get back where I left off and finish my hike into Daleville.

Outdoor Trails delivered big time. The woman in charge asked a few key questions about what I was looking for and suggested the same boots I’d read about and was thinking might be worth a try. They felt way better than what I’d been wearing, and although I knew they might seem less comfortable after a few hours of walking, they definitely couldn’t be worse than what I’d endured the past two days.

My good fortune continued when, as I was leaving the supermarket next door to hike down the highway with my pack and groceries to the motel, a past thru-hiker offered me a ride right to the front door.  What I expected to be a miserable day turned into a day full of trail magic and comfy new shoes!

As I mentioned a few days ago, I’ve forgotten to give them shout outs here but have mentally (and sometimes audibly) thanked the local trail clubs who maintain the AT multiple times a day. I’ll encounter, for example, a particularly effective bit of trail engineering, a crucially placed bridge, or a white blaze at a point of ambiguity and feel immensely grateful for their contributions. I know how hard it is to wrangle volunteers, raise funds, and negotiate with land owners and managing agencies to maintain and improve the AT for all of us hikers.

So far I’ve benefitted from the work of:

• Potomac Appalachian Trail Club – 240-mile section from Pine Grove Furnace PA to Shenandoah National Park, including managing excellent hiker facilities like the Blackburn and Bears Den Trail Centers
• Old Dominion Appalachian Trail Club – 19-mile section from Rockfish Gap to Reid’s Gap
• Tidewater Appalachian Trail Club – 10-mile section from Reid’s Gap to VA 56
• Natural Bridge Appalachian Trail Club – 90-mile section from VA 56 to Black Horse Gap
• Roanoke Appalachian Trail Club – 120-mile section from Black Horse Gap to Rt 611 near Bland

A big and grateful thank you to all these volunteers!

Day 27: Bobblets Gap Shelter > Daleville

18.5 AT miles (3773 feet up, 4449 feet down)

Today I hit the trail in my new kicks to finish the miles into Daleville that I’d skipped yesterday. Since I was hiking back to the same motel, and as an apology to my poor feet, I left a large portion of my gear behind for the day, known on trail as slackpacking. Hikers (and armchair hikers) feel a variety of ways about slackpacking, and I can tell you that I felt great!

I floated down those 18.5 miles thrilled to be free of my painful boots and to have eventually had the good sense to wait to walk those miles in boots that fit. I marveled at how happy my toes were and how I didn’t dread each step.

Rain had poured down the night before and the creeks were all running high. I was delighted to have boots that equalled or exceeded the comfort of my first pair but also offered the stability needed to trust them on careful rock hops.

Feeling accomplished after navigating several tricky crossings with dry feet, I reached Curry Creek, where the water was flowing over all the rocks and the banks on either side quickly became too steep to look for an alternate crossing upstream or downstream. I ended up having to wade through water up to my knees. I was bummed to so thoroughly soak my new boots on their first day out but pleased to find that they were still comfy in this soggy state.

Day 28: Daleville > Catawba Mountain Shelter

17.8 AT miles (4301 feet up, 3350 feet down)

Today started with a half mile walk up 220 to mail my niece’s birthday card and pick up a few additional snacks at the supermarket. I was glad to be able to leave my pack at the motel for this excursion through pedestrian-ignorant infrastructure.

Even before the extra snacks, my pack was probably the heaviest it’s been so far. I’ve finally accepted that I’m not going to cook anything most days, so I loaded up on heavier, ready to eat options.

I knew from past trips that I have trouble making myself cook after a long day of hiking but had hoped to do better this time around. In fact the opposite was true and I’d only had two hot meals on trail so far, both on days I’d arrived in camp well before dark. When I finish hiking at dusk or after dark, which happens most days because the sun sets so early, all I want to do is shovel in enough snacks to avoid getting cold overnight and get ready for bed.

And so it was that I climbed up to two well-known Virginia landmarks, Tinker Cliffs and McAfee Knob, with a very heavy pack. Next to Springer and Katahdin, McAfee Knob is probably the most popular photo op for an AT thru-hiker. (All those photos of a hiker standing or doing a handstand on a rock that juts out over an expansive mountain vista.) Unsurprisingly for 5pm on a January Monday, I had the iconic overlook to myself and therefore no fellow hikers to take such a photo.

Where I did find a fellow hiker, however, was at Catawba Mountain Shelter — my first time sharing an AT shelter! I was very relieved that he was a sweet young man and I didn’t have to continue down the trail to the next shelter, one I’d rejected for its likely lack of water. He’s a recent college grad who plans to start from Springer in February and was doing the “Virginia Triple Crown” (Tinker Cliffs, McAfee Knob & Dragon’s Tooth) as a shakedown hike in preparation.