Day 13 – That’s all she wrote, folks…

So bottom line on top: I’m ending my southbound trek.

The night in the shelter was an uneasy one; Annabelle and her nest-mates began their chewing soon after dusk. For the most part they stayed up on the top of the walls, although that put her/them above my head all night. At one point it sounded like something (a rat body?) fell, but with no subsequent consequence. The noises ended when Gummy Bear and I started moving about around 6am.

It didn’t really started raining until around 8am, although we were in the clouds all night and there was a fair amount of dripping from the trees.

The tenters all came by to pack up in a dry place. So it was another social morning, with stoves heating water for coffee, and talk of plans for the day. The couple was heading to Mountain Home B&B ( I asked them to say “hey” to Scott and Lisa from me), and Jake was ending his shakedown prep for thru-hiking next year in Front Royal, as well. Gummy Bear was aggressively shooting for Whiskey Hollow Shelter.

My plan was, shin willing, to go 13 miles to the Pass Mountain Hut, with stop at Elk Wallow Wayside at 5.7 miles for a snack or soda. As usual, I was the last one out of the shelter.

I started relatively strong, climbing back up to the AT, then heading south. The treadway was pretty easy with not much in the way of elevation change. It was wet, though, and my shoes were soaked through almost immediately.

The distance to the Wayside was 5ish miles, and I had it in my head that I’d be there by 10:30. The rain was intermittent, sometimes a drizzle and sometimes fairly steady. The first couple of miles went by with little issue, except the condition of the left shin started in a more aggravated state than yesterday.

At this point chafing began to be a problem, since the pack-cover and raincoat directed runoff right down my but. I swear rain takes all of the physical issues and magnifies them exponentially. I felt everything: shoulders, shins, hands, feet… with wet shoes and socks I started feeling hot spots for the first time.

I kept figuring I was closing in on Elk Wallow, but then I’d check and I still had 3 miles to go. Time seemed to stretch. And the rain increased. In my head, I kept thinking about the additional 7 miles left to Pass Mountain, and felt like I just couldn’t do it. By this time I was completely soaked through, and couldn’t imagine getting myself comfortable at the next shelter. Or that the shin and feet were going to be able to carry me there.

When I finally reached the Wayside (after traveling for quite a while in the Twilight Zone), it was pretty clear I’d hit a wall I was soaked through, as I already said, and couldn’t get warm. The Wayside is like a little grocery store/souvenir shop, and after May 5the they open a grill. But today there was no hot food or drink, so no way to get myself warm. Also no seating under cover or in the warmth of the store. I had decided that I’d call a shuttle to transport me to the town of Luray, get a room at the Quality Inn and work out next steps.

I entered into this journey with the intention of living in spaciousness. I wasn’t assured that my body could support that intention over a long period of time. Up until a few days ago, it seemed like it was getting stronger and setting me up for the long haul. When my left shin acted up, my body was sending me a message. I think that message is: “Go home. Set up some smaller scale hikes closer to home. Lighten your pack further. You’re retired now; there is another type of spaciousness that is right there.”

So the question becomes: do I hole up somewhere down here until my shin improves (and since there’s no way to know how long that will take, that’s not practical, or at the least would very expensive) or do I go home, let it heal in spaciousness? Since I put the bottom line up top, you already know the answer to that.

So tomorrow I’m shuttling to Charlottesville, and the next day I’ll take the 12 hr Amtrak train ride back to Boston. C’est finis!

This blog may easily morph into a record of smaller hikes on the northern end. We’ll see how quickly the shin heals…

Thanks to everyone who has found these scribbles entertaining, enlightening, inspiring or instructive. Knowing you have been reading has been a blessing that I’ll treasure. See you on the flip-side!!