TRAIL DAY 39
Wed, Mar 30, 2016 Morning requirements took me into the woods and on my return, the shelter stood sentinel on the barren hill and, back in camp, the wind was ripping through Ziggy-Doo’s hammock.
I had breakfast and got hiking to get warm and get going – just keep going. . . .
We descended Walnut Mountain and climbed Bluff Mountain. I first heard about Bluff in the context of summer gear. Some lady in the know cautioned not to shift gear until after Bluff Mountain. Others said not until after Damascus, Virginia. I waited until Marion, Virginia about 30 miles north of Damascus.
It was another sunny and clear-sky day as Theo and I hiked along in our little group of two. We came upon three hearty guys hiking together for a week or so and then, in an open area we met Sponge Bob and Mr. Bean who was going to have to leave his hiking buddy and return to Hawaii in a week or so. Sponge Bob would continue on to Maine and we would meet again.
Looking back on the southern trails after New Hampshire and Maine you appreciate how easy they were. But as far as climbing is concerned, I came to one simple conclusion: up is up. It’s a little word but if you encounter it, it means work. I was almost happier for a steep, difficult climb. I’m sure it was simply a matter of psychology but when you face a steep climb something inside gets ready and you take one difficult step at a time. Maybe that’s it. You put all your resources into a single step and then you repeat the process for the next step. But when you have a long gradual climb your effort is more strung out and rapid. You’re not just getting over one hurdle; you’re demanding more of yourself over a longer stretch. There’s a more constant hard push with less immediate reward.
I don’t remember exactly when I stepped on the sharp stone whose pyramid-shaped point stuck out of the ground in my path but it was somewhere in the south. The sharp tip met my left heel dead center and caused traumatic plantar fasciitis that would last over 700 miles until northern Massachusetts. But something equally bad – no worse – was about to take hold affect my feet.
Meanwhile, we were headed for Hot Springs, North Carolina which, for reasons I can’t quite explain, I always remember as Holy Cross. A little more on this later.
The first structure at Hot Springs to come into view was a red barn. Civilization! We’re coming to a town. But then the trail just went on and on never descending into town – that barn was just a teaser.
As I got lower, however, I came upon a 2″x4″ stuck in the ground off to the left of the trail with a paper tied to it. As would happen often on the trail, someone was being memorialized. It was hard to read as it was wrapped tightly around the post but I could make out:
In remembrance of our Dad; ROY (?): He was a wonderful father and loved the outdoors. Missed and loved by many. He never made his dream come true of hiking the Appalachian Trail but a kind soul whom we love has offered to post this for him on the trail and make his dream come true from heaven. LOVE YOU DAD, hope you are playing Ball in Heaven and drinking a beer and relaxing.
Below this appears the poem Woodland Cathedral by Patience Strong, the pen name for Winifred Emma May born June 4, 1907.
Woodland Cathedral
Go into the woodland
if you seek peace of mind-
As this time when Nature’s mood
is gentle, quiet and kind,
When soft winds fan the trembling leaves
about the cloistered glade-
And paths go winding deep into the green
and breathless shade.
Where nothing breaks the silence
of the warm and fragrant air-
But snatches of sweet melody. . .
and wings that rend and tear-
The stillness of the windless dells
where shallow brooklets flow-
And shadows fleck the water
as the sunbeams come and go.
An unseen Presence walks the woods,
a sense of holy things-
Haunts the dim Cathedral aisles;
and every bird that sings-
Is like some morning chorister,
and every breath of air-
Seems to bring the secret murmur
of a whispered prayer.
When we finally got to the valley where Hot Springs nestled, smack up against the trail was Hostel at Laughing Heart Lodge (HLHL). I would be here for 3 full days. I’d arranged for Donna of Cabin in the Woods to mail my package here. I’d found Minute-Man’s solar charger on an information board where the trail met a paved road and figured he had placed it there to charge it in the sun and forgot it. I’d hoped to see him again and, happily, he was at HLHL.
The attorney had responded to the appellate brief I wrote before departing. I finished publishing details on the trail by a call to the printer on leap day in February. It was now time for my Reply Brief. I would draft it here on my tablet.
I had reserved a room at the busy HLHL by cell phone from the trail for two nights and would extend two additional nights as my brief writing and package bouncing needs demanded. Hot Springs was going to be my home for a little while.
Day #39 Walnut Mountain Shelter > HLHL 13.1 miles