TRAIL DAY 56
Sat, Apr 16, 2016 Today would be a zero day. Laundry at the machines under the main house; resupply at the store; breakfast and supper in the common area. Theo roamed around and then made himself at home.
Ten-Degree and his boys were at BBR and spent a good bit of time in the common room. We got to know each other pretty well there and I was sorry to learn that Badger was still having problems with his foot. In fact they were going to hang around for a few days to see a podiatrist on Monday. They were not sure if they could continue.
And how lucky was I at 74, soon to be 75? Still going. Still O.K. I probably have very little appreciation of how fortunate I was and am to have gotten all the way to Maine.
Glider was also at BBR. He had impressed me at the top of Hump Mountain as perhaps a corporate lawyer or president of a bank. He had the bearing of a Dean Acheson, Secretary of State under Truman. I learned at BBR that Glider was a wood turner. This surprised me greatly until I learned that he was not just any old turner of wood. He wasn’t making table legs but rather very elaborate wood designs and he lectured about and taught his craft all over the world. He told me the name of the work he does but I don’t remember it. I’d ask again in Marion, Virginia and still I don’t remember. I apparently did not make a note. Searching “artistic wood turning” online has not helped so far. It was one of those things where you say, “Oh, I got it now. I won’t forget.” I know, right? Like when you put something away where you know you won’t lose it and months later. . .you’ve lost it. The place you put it for safe keeping has kept it safe from you!
Oh, well. We move on.
It was a zero day for me at BBR and a good time to see what I could learn about blogging. Virtually all hostels provide rides for the homeless hikers they welcome and so it was at BBR. The husband of the owners would be going into Hampton, Tennessee and anyone needing a ride in, common along.
We crossed the bridge and turned right along the road Theo and I were walking the day before when the driver’s wife picked us up. We passed the point where the AT crosses the road where there was a sign to another hostel in the area. And then we wound and wound down out of the mountains to Hampton.
I was in the front right seat – deference to age perhaps – and chatted with the driver.
“Have you seen any bears here?”
“Oh, yea, there are a lot of bears around here. Our hostel name is no foolin’. Last year, we frequently saw a mother and her cubs right along this stretch.”
We then talked about when mothers have their cubs and how many and how often. The conversation led us to believe that it would not be at all unlikely for us to see a bear or two on our way into Hampton.
We didn’t.
Hampton had one main street bisecting town E-W. Toward the end of the main drag there was a McDonald’s on the left. McDonald’s routinely has free WiFi so I opted to spend my day here to see if I could advance the cause of blogging that I had attempted at the Top of Georgia Hostel more than six weeks before.
I found a table along the right wall and sat facing the entrance. There was an outlet to use for my tablet or phone and you paid only once for all the coffee you’d like. I’d get lunch when the time came. Perfect. I was set.
To my left was a man I’ll call “John.” He was at the table in the corner and was carrying on conversation in a normal voice with a couple of friends facing him. Over time his friends left and others arrived.
I had wished my concentration didn’t have to contend with the voices of John and his companions but I had to accept this obstacle as I would a stream, boulder or fallen tree on the trail.
But I was not out in the woods. I was in a man-made environment sitting on a Formica-covered bench which, over time, got harder and harder to my depleted butt cheeks as I tried to figure out blogging. More than once, John greeted a slow parade of friends, filling all of them in on the activities of his week in a very slow drawl.
“How you doin’ John?” one would ask.
“Ooooooh, allll riiight. . .moooow’d the laaaawn on Wennn-sdee.”
And then they’d carry on with more vibrant chatter about nothing much at all until they’d filled each other in on the latest which surely couldn’t have been much different than the latest the week or year before.
Then the 3rd shift would show up.
“How you doin’ John?” one would ask.
“Ooooooh, allll riiight. . .moooow’d the laaaawn on Wennn-sdee.”
I remember a lot more about John and his friends than I do about blogging that day. Husband-owner would pick me up at 5:00 p.m. along with others who hung out in town.
Husband had to go get about 20 bags of ice, something he had done many times before. I watched as bags were tossed for loading in the back of the van – then back to the BBR.
Resupply complete then supper in the common room, chatter and gather things for the day to come. B-Hiker and I had the bunk room to ourselves, gender being a non-issue on the trail. We were both fully packed for takeoff in the morning and, after showers, indulged in good friendly chat before turning in for a hiker’s rest. Our bunks were along the same wall, foot to foot. Come morning, I would hug B-Hiker good-bye. She left first. I never saw her again.
Day #56 Black Bear Resort 0 miles