Why you shouldn’t shave your legs, and what to do with a deer carcass?

I have fallen behind with posting on the blog as I have hardly been in town. I have been doing 20 mile days for a while to make a rendezvous in northern Virginia with my American family. This is the first catch up.

Day 35: Shadow of death

It was 22 April and it was a frosty morning after a cold night which had us all tossing and turning in our tents and waking up several times. By the time I had struck my tent, my hands were numb and I was pretty cold. This had the effect, of making me go too fast in the first few miles in an effort to warm up again. There were a lot of beautiful ice crystals once out of the trees and on the grassy fringes of the Grayson Highlands.

A little later back in the woods, I saw something that I never had before. I have found that before the leaves appear on the trees, I almost always notice birds of prey when looking down rather than up. This is because when the sun is out and the birds are flying low above the trees, their shadows swoop over the carpet of dead leaves. Sometimes it is an eagle, and sometimes a vulture. Or maybe, as on this occasion, a raven. It did a couple of circles above me and then went to the top of a dead tree trunk. Initially I thought it was struggling to keep its balance as there was a lot of flapping of its wings, and swaying backwards and forwards. But it was attempting to extract something from the tree. Once it had succeeded, as it began to fly off, it dropped something to the ground. The Raven followed it down and there was a short battle amongst the dead leaves, in which a fledgling attempted to escape. It lost. And the Raven flew off with it.

The day warmed up nicely and I had a long lunch break at Comers waterfall where I recovered from going too fast early on. I watched several hikers carefully making their way over the rocks in a  slightly more challenging and fast flowing river crossing than normal. When Spam crossed, his dog Percy stayed on the other side for a while after giving Spam an, “are you kidding?” look. He then went down stream , and very nimbly leapt over the rocks to the other side on his chosen route.

Day 36: A controlled burn

A sunny day after another cold, but not frosty night. I was last out of camp. I caught up with Ghost, Last Mile, Peanut Butter and Spam at the Mount Rogers National Recreation headquarters. They were waiting for a bus to go to Marion to resupply. I pushed on, and after a couple miles came to a blackened mountain and a sign saying the AT was closed. However, a ranger radioed a colleague on the mountain, who said I could proceed and that they would meet me along the top. That person was Jake Smith, the recreation programme manager of the Mount Rogers area. He was very interesting and informative as we walked along a stony Ridge with blackened and smouldering trees on one side.  He told me about how controlled burns are carried out. It is a very complex logistical task involving lots of different experts. The previous strategy of preventing fires for a long time had altered the ecology. Fires are a natural part of forest life here, but rather than waiting for one they try to plan them in instead. The subject is fascinating and could fill out a whole post by itself.

Once I had left the burn zone I made my way down the other side of the mountain and stopped for lunch at a stream. There I met a section hiker with a dog called Zeus. He said that couple of women told him that meant he should have the trail name of Kronos. I said that would make him not a very nice man. He said he only found out what a mean god Kronos was sometime later, but was stuck with the name by that time. Covid had forced a reassessment of work and he was now happily having time for himself. He said he would shortly be riding his horse into Love Valley, North Carolina. It is a re-created western town where no motorised vehicles are allowed. Living the dream.

Near the end of the day, I came upon an old settler single classroom school which was very nicely preserved. Inside was some trail magic provided by the Sunny Hills community Church. There are some very thoughtful items included, such as a toothpaste that I needed. It was a quiet peaceful place where I reflected for a while before pushing on to end the day.

Day 37: Burke’s Garden

I had  not paid enough attention the previous night so did not realise that the shelter I was camping at (David Path), had no water. Probably one of the reasons why I was the only person there. So although my tent was wet from rain by the morning, my water bottles were dry. And I had to hike a few miles to get to a spring. I also realised that I had been been burning big calories and had not replaced enough. So I was lucky to be able to go to the Bear Garden hostel near the trail and get some supplies and hot food.

So the day was already looking up when shortly after lunch, I bumped into old friends, Tomcat and Hotdog. Although we hiked separately, ending the day with a 2500 foot climb, we arrived together at Chestnut Knob shelter. We had it to ourselves as well as the magnificent view over Burke’s Garden a long way below, lit by the late sun. It is an 8 x 5 mile depression caused by a massive sinkhole. The view was quite unlike anything on the trail prior to this point.

Day 38: Why you should not shave your legs

A frosty night lit by a full moon high up in the mountains and breakfast with Hotdog and Tomcat on an icy bench as the sun rose over Burke’s Garden, was something special. The sun was at one horizon and the moon near the other.

The day’s hiking was hard going for a while and I did not push onto too quickly.  Although we were too high up the previous night for there to be leaves in the trees, spring was much more evident lower down, with foliage and an abundance of birds and insects. I stopped for lunch at leafy Hunting Gap Creek where I dried out my still wet tent in the sun and ate my food with my feet soaking in the water. Two hikers came by, Powerslide and Pitch. They thought I made a perfect picture and offered to photograph me with my phone. I accepted.

Less pleasant was the end of the day when I set up camp by myself. I felt the hairs on my leg being tickled. I looked down to see a tick rushing upwards to a hiding place. It did not have the opportunity to attach itself to me. Hotdog also had a tick two days previously. Time to be alert and check every night! Leg hairs offer an early warning so are very useful. But now I am very sensitive to every itch.

Day 39: Mile 600. Where do you put those deer carcasses? And are Dismal Falls dismal?

I called in at Brushy Mountain Outpost for breakfast and resupply. Vegetarian options were absent from the breakfast menu, but they’re very kindly cooked me a veggie burger and I did not mind the long wait that that entailed. They also gave me a bit of trail magic when I left, courtesy of their church.

From the Outpost, there is a bit of a road walk before the AT re-enters the woods. At the place where it does so, there is a sign asking people not to leave their deer carcasses in the rubbish container. One of the more unexpected requests I  have come across so far. The woods here were filled with thousands of cobwebs on the ground, highlighted by the dew from the misty damp start to the day. Eventually it gave way to the sun.

I ended the day at a campsite near Dismal Creek. But before that I made the more than half a mile detour to Dismal Falls. The name alone made them unmissable. But there was also the prospect of a swimming hole at the bottom of the falls. When I arrived, it was clear that swimming was out of the question. There is road access on the other side of the river and were three big southern dudes with big beards fishing in the swimming spot. One of them landed a fish as I arrived. However, the waterfall was pretty impressive. Initially I resisted the urge to find out the origins of the name. When I did, some of the naming mystery remained. The waterfall gets it name from the creek but the origin of that is unclear, but is thought to stem from disappointed early farmers.

600 miles  passed on this day. 

Next post: Is something rattling?