Picture Dump!

Ryan3 Comments

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A break from the woods, into this gorgeous farm, about ten miles before DamascusIMG_2462[1]IMG_2465[1]

First day hiking shirtless, certainly not my last!IMG_2469[1]IMG_2479[1]

Woodchuck’s Hostel in DamascusIMG_2482[1]

Hey Joe’s in DamascusIMG_2483[1]

Hoodlum spotting, Gritz and the gang at Bonnie’s hostel.IMG_2492[1]

Entering the Grayson HighlandsIMG_2493[1]IMG_2494[1]IMG_2495[1]

Grayson HighlandsIMG_2497[1]

Flame Azaleas IMG_2496[1]IMG_2499[1]

I was accosted by ponies in Grayson Highlands (licked to death).  Video to post when I have a chance.IMG_2501[1]IMG_2511[1]

Leaving the Grayson HighlandsIMG_2513[1]

I purchased a loofa.  It’s how Dirty Girls get clean!IMG_2518[1]

You know you’re hiker trash when you do your laundry in a visitor center bathroom.IMG_2519[1]

Firebird, Turtle Goat, Mogli, and Lt. Left to right.  Waiting on the shuttle into Marion.IMG_2520[1]

Ladybug made it!IMG_2521[1]

Resupply crunch and swap in front of Walmart.  Plenty of police to keep us dirty hikers in line!  Be bought too much food…  Again…  We did get wise enough to swap snacks with each other for variety this time!

Damascus, VA

Ryan4 Comments

When you’re a thru-hiker, at least a NOBO, Damascus is kind of like Mecca.  Well over half of hikers quit before they get here, so it’s kind of a big deal.  It’s also the site of Trail Days, the largest festival on the AT.  Having attended Trail Days, it was nice to come back to a familiar place.

I’ve been traveling with the “Hoot’n Hoodlums” –a group of hikers some thirty members strong.  Started by Hoot and Gritz, the story as I know it goes like this:

Gritz:  “Hey, that’s a Great Horned Owl calling!”

Hoot:  “No man, that’s a Barred Owl.  They go HOOOOOWAAAAHHH.”

Gritz:  “Hooooyaaaa”

Hoot:  “No, no.  HooooWWAAAHHH”

Gritz:  “HOOOWAAHHHH”

Hoot:  “HOOOOOWAAAHHHHH!”

…And the Hoodlums were born.

I lost most of the Hoodlums after that night at the Barn.  I zeroed at Mountain Harbor (never try to out-drink Texans…) and most of them got a day ahead.

The night before reaching Damascus, I managed to catch up with Gritz.  His girlfriend Sam recently joined him on the trail, so he’s moving a bit slower than usual.  Endowed with the gift of gab, and southern charm, he’s the kind of friend you can call at 2am to get your car pulled out of a ditch.

A native Georgian with long dark hair and a gold ring in each ear, he exudes a presence I can only describe as “pirate born centuries too late.”  Indeed the Hoodlums are band of traveling pirates.  We roll into town, pillage all food and ale we find, then drift back to the mountains from which we came.

There is but one within rule to this tribe of wandering nomads.  Pack out ALL trash.  Some weekenders left five pounds of Mountain House wrappers in a fire pit?  It leaves on our backs.  Period.  Should you be traveling the AT and hear HOOOWAAAHHH’s in the distance, take heed and practice LNT!

I made it into Damascus around 4:30pm on the 1st, shortly after a baby bear sighting.  I passed fellow Hoodlums Mohican and Tumbleweed on the way down.  To my surprise, the grill I ate at during Trail Days is closed on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, so I went into an outfitter and asked around.  Having a guidebook is great, but it’s so much better to ask the locals.

Compared to the buzz of Trail Days, Damascus this time around seemed more like a ghost town.  The outfitter recommended Hey Joe’s.  I walked in to find the room full of friends.  Nine Lives, Elba, Suspect, Tuneup, and Lone Star were at one table, and a few others I knew by face only were nearby.  I scarfed down an “Everything Burrito” and several Budlites.

Everyone except Nine Lives had decided to stay at Woodchuck’s hostel on the edge of town.  I met Nine Lives in Hampton.  He’s an interesting guy, deserving of his own post.  I’ll get to that when I’m in the mood.  The bar began to empty, and I walked to Woodchuck’s with Elba, a 24 year old Optometry student from Alaska.  I met her a couple days before, and unfortunately she’s on the “cool people I cannot keep up with” list. As with everyone on that list, I’ve learned to enjoy their company while I have it.

The hostel was buzzing with good conversation, and what smelled to be an epic meal on the brew.  An hour or so later Nine Lives strolled in, after trying to spend the night at “The Place” a donation-based church hostel in town.  He was pretty tipsy and was interrogated a bit by the caretaker for it.  Nine Lives is sixty-eight, and retired as a patent lawyer in New York.

“I told that guy I needed a place to sleep, not an interrogation.  Then I told him to go fuck himself, gave him the bird, and walked out!”  Nine Lives is kind of awesome.

Soon the feast was on.  A fellow thru-hiker named Tron cooked barbecue chicken, with a full compliment of southern side dishes.  His price?  For me it was dishes.  Well worth it.

Woodchuck made breakfast around seven this morning, and I find his hostel quite endearing.  I sat on the porch with Nine Lives and Elba, talking till 9am.  I bid them both farewell, as they packed and left.  As usual, I was one of the last ones out.

I walked to Mount Rodgers Outfitters, bought a summer-weight sleeping bag, and a few other odds and ends.  There is a cross-fit gym next door, that sells Lems and Altra shoes.  I swapped my heavy, swampy, waterproof Keen’s for a pair of Altra trail runners.  The lady who ran the place was great, and even offered me 30% off a pair of Lems when I talked them up.

Last on the list was a trip to the post office, where I mailed my winter bag, and 70% of my clothes back home.  With highs in the mid 80’s and lows in the mid 50’s, it was time.  I shaved somewhere between three and five pounds out of my pack.

At the library I met back up with Turtle Goat, and it looks like most of the group is getting some last beers, then hiking out.  We’ll probably only go a few miles out tonight.

From what I understand, cell service in VA sucks for AT&T.  I’m not sure how often I’ll be able to update.  I’ll update as able.

Take the best of care my friends.

 

 

 

 

June 1st

Ryan1 Comment

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I cleared the NC/TN line today.  Finally! I’m about two miles outside Damascus, VA.

I met back up with Gritz, so last night was fun.  Most of our group is ahead but they left a nice page for him in the log.  We night hiked from this shelter to a campsite about six miles out.  My entry was:

“Grits’ roids are so bad, he cannot sit for very long.  Hiking with him to low gap”  –Dirty Girl

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Shawshank reference.  I thought it was pretty funny.IMG_5742

May 31st

Ryan1 Comment

I woke this morning to a girl hounding her brother to get out of bed at 6:30am. They’re both pretty young, just out of high school, and a riot most of the time.

I am the last one out of camp as I sit here at 8:55am. I admire the tenacity of my fellow hikers and to be fair, Damascus is closer than ever.

It seems to me however, that when waking to a view like this, the only proper course of action is to enjoy a cup of tea.

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Cheers!

May 25th

Ryan3 Comments

I had finally made it to US19. If memory served, there was an Ingles nearby. so I put out my thumb to hitch. A few cars passed but then a beat to hell Honda Civic rolled to a stop on the shoulder. I approached the passenger side window and a cute little brunette with dreads and aviator sunglasses greeted me.

“Where you headed smelly man?”

In no time we were on the road. She told me she lived near by and offered the use of her shower before my resupply. This is not a terribly uncommon occurrence on the AT, so I agreed.

We stopped at a small, single story, brick house and made our way inside.

“Shower’s in there. My roommate left a bunch of stuff under the sink so help yourself.”

The shower had real soap, real shampoo, etc. I ventured under the sink just to see. That’s when I found a real gem; a brand new loofa still packaged and everything! Elated, I began the best shower I had had in weeks. As I was about to turn the water off, I heard the bathroom door open.

“Hey, you clean yet?” she asked.

“This is the cleanest I’ve been in a month!” I excitedly replied.

“Cool, can I join you?”

My eyes opened and adjusted to the moonlit tent canopy above. I woke to a cruel reality. No shower. No dreadlocked trail babe. No loofa. My watch read 2am. US19 wouldn’t be for another 2 days. …

Soon I heard what woke me initially. It was the last thing any hiker wants to hear; the sound of their friend’s projectile vomit hitting the forest floor.

I smelled what seemed to be three day old, spilled milk and wondered if my tent had become a casualty to my neighbors sickness. Upon further investigation I realized it was just my armpits. Relieved, I rolled over and went back to sleep. It’s a shame you can’t resume dreams.

Norovirus is a big deal out here. It runs rampant on the AT every year. Privies, shelters and limited access to soap provide the perfect environment for these bugs to spread. Hikers are friendly people and all the handshaking, food sharing and “safety meetings”, spell disaster for many a stomach.

I drag myself out of bed around 7am and walked over to the fire pit. Turtle Goat told me to watch my step and sure enough, there was gastrointestinal minefield near his hammock. He was pale and weak. Firebird sat on a log with her head in her hands speaking to no one in particular. “It’s just….I NEED those calories. I cooked that meal, I dehydrated it, I mailed it all the way from Texas!”

“Now it’s ant food.” OSHA replied.

Firebird looked like she was on the edge of tears. So not one, but two sick friends now. The rest of us were worried and kept our distance. Firebird and Turtle Goat shared a beer yesterday but I shared some wine with them as well. I felt fine though.

Soon enough the culprit was identified. Neither had been treating their water in over a week. I cannot believe the amount of hikers who are already getting lazy with their water. Probably one in five are doing this and we’re not even in Virginia yet.

Thankfully, there was a hostel .5W so they decided to head there and zero. Ladybug, Lt. Safety and I decided to make for the Barn some seventeen miles away.

The Barn is one of the largest shelters on the AT, and a known party spot.  As you might guess, it’s a huge converted barn.  I had been there before and I was looking forward to seeing a familiar place again.

When I arrived, some twenty thru-hikers were there, along with “Gentle Ben” -a former thru hiker.  Ben gave us pizza and beer trail magic the day before.  He lost all of his food to a bear on Max Patch during his hike.  Now he does trail magic to repay the kindness of a stranger.  This stranger fully resupplied him for free at a gap the next day.

The shelter was hopping.  Every conceivable hiker-trash dinner concoction imaginable was being prepared.  I saw Knorr Side filled tortillas with peanut butter, pop-tart sandwiches with peanut butter and Fritos, an entire pack of Oreos, etc.  I had hiked out an entire pound of sharp cheddar.  My dinner was salmon and cheddar in a tortilla, with a Snickers, and a blackberry turnover.  Have I mentioned that I’ve lost thirteen pounds out here?

I slept in the loft with fifteen others, and signed the shelter log before bed.  Nearly every shelter has a log (notebook) in it, that people sign and leave messages in.  I left a note for Firebird and Turtle Goat, wishing them a fast recovery.  Hopefully they’d be there to read it within a couple of days.

On a side note, Joe (The Canadian) still writes to Black Sheep to encourage him along the trail. He draws a sheep and writes “Keep Going!”  Joe’s trail name is now Lumberjack, and I’ve not seen him since Franklin.  Black Sheep should be a few days behind me.

I see Flo, Pretzel, and Hatchet in the logs too.  They’re about three days ahead of me now.  Flo simply draws hearts, Pretzel leaves some wisdom, and Hatchet is always telling one of them to catch up.

What’s really fun is catching up to people you’ve read entries from, before meeting them in person.  It adds a whole new level to the instant camaraderie.

log

Tomorrow I’ll write about the amazing Roan Mountain Highlands, and share some pictures.

Take the best of care my friends.

One Month on the Trail

Ryan6 Comments

May 23rd, 2016

Refreshed and Refueled. In the past 24 hours I’ve eaten 15 slices of pizza, a side salad, two beef burritos, rice and beans, three eggs, two slices of toast, hashbrowns, two country fried steaks, 8 glasses of sweet tea, and 11 PBRs.

One month on the trail will close at 354 miles. Headed out to Damascus, VA, 115 miles away. Trying to get there before June!

This is home for the night. I’m with a group of six and we just can’t pass this up:IMG_0309

I’ve got good neighbors to chill with!

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Best evening on the trail. A great way to close out my first month out here.

Cheers!