May 18-May 30, Miles 344.3 – 470.6 Posted from Pearisburg, VA mile 637.0

I know it seems like I focus a lot on the more challenging aspects of this trip. Really much of it is quite beautiful awesome hiking, and pleasant weather. I’d describe it similar to how I’ve heard storm chasing or sailing described: hours (or days) of boredom punctuated my moments of sheer terror. While it’s rarely boring out here, hiking itself is quite monotonous. The momements I learn something tend to be the challenging ones, so I tend to post more about that.

On that point, we return to our story at the tail end of trail days. I catch a lift back to Erwin late in the day and am anxious to get back on the trail and away from people for a while. I clean up a bit at Uncle Johnny’s hostel and head out at like 6pm with the intention of hitting the first shelter about 5 miles up. As I’m leaving someone asked if I was going to do some night hiking and said her friends were hiking in the full moon the night before and it was awesome once you got up on the ridge. It seems like most people have hiked at night at some point to get some miles in and I hadn’t, so it seemed like a good time to try. It was warm, full moon, and I was feeling ready to hike.

I hiked up to where it looked like the trail leveled out which I assumed would be a ridgeline and arrived as it became dark. I stopped and ate dinner around 9:30 to wait for the moon to come up. By 10:30 it was still quite dark, so I decided to hike with my headlamp until the sky lightened up and I could walk in the moonlight. This is where things don’t work out so well. First, the trail is not on a ridge. It’s quite level, but traverses a steep hillside so the trail is slanted and drops off. While the moon is coming up, it’s blocked by the hill, and I don’t actually end up seeing it for another couple of hours. The trail is rough too, through rhododendron groves with lots of roots and super dark and thick forest with lots of rocks. My ankles were not happy, and even if the moon was up it probably would still be very dark under the canopy. While most of the trail had fairly frequent stealth campsites where you can stop for the night, the fact this section was on a steep hillside meant there were no options to stop and set up camp for several miles. And to top it all off, 20 minutes in my headlight blinked twice and switched to low brightness indicating the batteries were about to die. Without it, I was in the dark on a rough trail on the side of a steep hill.

In my training as an airplane pilot I learned that accidents rarely occur because of a single failure. Typically, a light comes on, it is overlooked or ignored, leading to multiple cascading failures which ultimately leads to an accident. I’m reminded of this as I depend on my dying headlamp to get me 4 more miles to where I can set up a tent. I’m pushing hard to get as close as I can in case I have to walk in the dark, and am looking for contingencies. There are few. After a couple of hours of stumbling over rocks and roots I reach the ridge line. I can see the moon but it’s still dark. At about 1:30am I finally roll into the campsite. There are two tents already there, so I do my best to set up quietly. Just as I’m about to put my pack in my tent, my headlamp gave a final blink and powered off. By 2:15am I was finally in bed and actually had a hard time falling asleep due to over exhaustion. The next morning the other campers were surprised to see another tent there, and apparently I managed to set up without even waking them up. In the end, it was surely a memorable experience, but I think it’s safe to say I did it all wrong and next time I’ll be sure to check the trail more carefully, have extra batteries, and hike with a buddy if I’m going out at night.

After a few days of nice day hiking I approached the climb to Roan Mountain. At the top is the highest shelter on the AT. I didn’t make it to the top but camped a couple miles down. Herbie had found some Chicken of the Wood mushrooms and brought some over to share, which I fried up with some olive oil and added to my ramen. The hike up the mountain was fairly uneventful and the top was socked in, giving it an eerie feel. Apparently there’s a visitors center nearby you could just drive to so there were plenty of tourists up there, also giving it an eerie feel. Past Roan Mountain there are the most amazing series of rolling balds with amazing views. The rolling low clouds and haze only served to accent the picturesque scenery and the sun was warm and welcomed. The nearby parking lot makes this a popular spot for day hikers and weekenders, and many of the pictures from the Roan Highlands are iconic.

At the bottom of Roan Mountain is TN 19E, the road that brings you into the town of Roan Mountain. However, it’s also home to a couple of hostels, one called The Station. When I was initially doing research on the AT they started a “trail magic” campaign where you could buy a hiker a beer or a bunk and they’d send you a picture of the lucky hiker who cashed it in. I thought it would be fun to do this (pay it forward sort of), and sure enough I received a picture of Bob who got the beer and bunk I purchased. Since they boasted a great craft beer list and good food, I at least wanted to stop in and check it out. Lots of hikers milling around and enjoying themselves. I had a couple of beers and a great corned beef and cabbage meal the bartender’s wife made with home made sauerkraut, and a mustard sauce that was amazing. But rather than get stuck in the vortex, I decided to hike on.

Before leaving, the owner suggested I avoid stealth camping for the next 5 or 6 miles of the trail. Apparently the land was taken from the Clawson family who had been using it for nefarious purposes for probably over 100 years. Apparently they start drinking around 7pm and will mess with hikers camped out in the area. Stories of fishook snares and other booby traps to cause grief to hikers are not unsubstantiated. Apparently they’re still fighting a family feud with another local family as well. He said just last week one of the Clawsons was murdered, and revenge was anticipated. The local police won’t get involved because it’s too dangerous. With regard to hikers, though, the hostel owner said they won’t hurt you, but you really don’t want to be there.

Moonshot, a friend who hiked the trail maybe 30 years ago, told me the story of how he got his trail name hitching into town on 19E when some hillbillies in a pickup truck shot him in the ass with a pellet gun for no apparent reason. What definitely will get you shot in this area, though, is accidentally wandering off trail into someone’s ginseng patch. Over the years, hill folk have gone from distilling moonshine to growing weed to making meth and now, yielding over $800 per pound, ginseng is the new backwoods cash crop. It only grows in certain locations and apparently this area is the perfect climate for it. Given the value, the plots are heavily guarded and it’s wise to avoid them. This area definitely felt like the deepest backwoods of Appalachia and the only time I felt remotely nervous based on the stories I had heard, but it was a short stretch and I hiked through without incident.

Leaving the Roan Highlands were some nice waterfalls. A stop at Boots Off hostel provided some nice rest before hitting the Laurel Fork Gorge and Laurel Falls. This was a very scenic descent into the valley culminating in a gorgeous view of the waterfall. It was my first 18+ mile day and my knees were complaining after the long descent. The next few days into Damascus proved to be challenging and my right knee swelled up pretty good. Getting back into the town I was in over a week earlier for trail days was a relief as I needed a break, but it definitely had a different feel without all the hikers, vendor booths, and partying going on. I stayed at the Damascus Hiker’s Inn which had a lovely private room for me and a freezer stocked with ice packs for my knees. The owners, Paul and Lee, were very good hosts. The cherry tree on the side provided some much needed fresh fruit as I fought the birds for the few that were left. After a much needed zero and a couple of nights in a real bed, my knees were feeling a little better I was ready to hit the trail again.