Samwise Hikes the Appalachian Trail! - Trail Journal -
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June 12, Punchbowl Shelter - mile 776.4

 

I must sound like a broken record sometimes, but again I say, what an interesting day. I started out this morning by crossing the James River on a newly-built 600 foot bridge, built just for the A.T. hikers. The plaque by it says it was built in memory of the former president of the Natural Bridge Trail Club, and it just opened last October. It was a gorgeous bridge, too. It was extraordinary to cross a river that large after 2 months of hopping rocks across little streams and trickles. The funny part was, once we were across, we couldn't seem to find our way back onto the trail! I had caught up with Monya at that point - she's a fascinating 60-something year old lady who I just met a couple nights ago. We both turned in circles for about 5 minutes before we discovered the trail led under the railroad tracks, which were fenced off in front of us.

Once we got through that hurdle, we had two big mountains to climb today, both just over 3000 feet. I've discovered a system recently that I've been using particularly on uphill climbs, which helps a lot. I've found that I average 2200 steps per mile (give or take 200), so when I'm facing a climb I look at the distance on the map and figure out about how many steps it will take me. For whatever reason, when I know I've only got 1100 steps or even when I have 5,000, like today, it makes it a define-able goal and therefore, easier to do. I've even got a reward system devised - at 100 steps, I can stop for a breather and a drink of water, and at 1000 I can have something sweet from my gorp. Lately my favorite treats have been Skittles and gummy worms. Tony put both in my last batch of gorp and I've been picking them out like crazy.

  On top of the second peak, there was a memorial gravestone for Little Ottie Cline Powell, a little boy who died in 1891 when he wandered too far from his school, looking for firewood. As I stood there reading the plague, inexplicably the tears started rolling down my cheeks. I didn't know why I was crying, but it made me so sad to think of that little 5 year old boy lost up on that mountain and eventually sitting down and dying. But apparently I wasn't the only one affected. His little grave stone had been piled high with small stuffed animals, toys and some coins. Tonight when I reached the shelter, I learned that Monya and another hiker behind me, Sticker, both confessed to having the same reaction.

The shelter tonight sits on the edge of a pond and already the air is filled with sounds of frogs and peepers. I can't believe how much noise they make! I'm starting to worry that they might be as bad as snorers. And they need to eat more bugs around here, too. My feet have been turned into bloody, swollen pulp from the gnat bites, even though I had on my "bug socks" made from no-see-um netting. Of course, I must be a very slow learner, since it's taken multiple bloody bites to convince me these socks are useless. And although my feet and ankles seem to be the most popular targets, I have bites every few inches all over my legs and arms and on my ears as well.

We had the most fun experience after supper this evening! Monya and I are here with a hiker I met two weeks ago, Italian Scallion and his friend Pat who has joined him for this week. Those two guys have perfected the art of making microwave popcorn in a sierra cup over an alcohol stove flame! It was amazing to watch and even more fun to eat, especially since popcorn is one of those (many) things that I crave on the trail. He actually scrapes out some of the kernels and butter from the microwave bag, and then he folds a big piece of tinfoil into a funnel-type spout around the top of the cup, so that when the corn pops up, it shoots up out of the spout and into a waiting cup on the table. I'm definitely going to have to try that trick myself after I get home!