Transcription of journal page photos can be found below. A more traditional blogpost of this hike can be found HERE along with lots of pictures.
- Trail Map Says: 10.0 miles
- Laura’s Watch Says: 10.34 miles
- Elevation Gain: 962 feet
- Elevation Loss: 2,828 feet
- Start Time 8:41 am
- End Time: 2:09pm
- Active Hiking Time: 4:31
- Average Pace: 26:11 (best 22:56, worst 31:14)
- Average Heart Rate: 105bpm (high 142bpm)
- Calories Burned: 2,719
So it turns out my watch does the worst job when I’m going uphill carrying the heaviest load. I like that, actually. It’s like my watch gives me more credit when the effort hurts more.
Every night on this trip, as I’ve wrapped myself up to try to fall asleep in a variety of strange and mostly uncomfortable locations, I’ve wondered, “What am I doing trying to sleep in this weird place? People don’t sleep in places like this. I’m doing something wrong.”
I never have gotten the knack for sleeping this trip. When we hiked the Tetons, the first night was rough, then exhaustion each day. took care of the rest. Here? I dunno. Perhaps that each night has been a slightly different environment rather than a tent every night?
JOURNAL INTERUPTO: I was writing this entry as we drove north toward DC the next day when suddenly got when I very, very sick. We pulled off the interstate so I could get over what I hoped was a bad and unprovoked bout of motion sickness, but it just kept getting worse, so we headed to an urgent care clinic. By then I couldn’t open my eyes without the world seeming to collapse on itself, and I couldn’t have walked to save life. Urgent Care sent me to the ER, where I was diagnosed with Benign Paroxysmal Positional Vertigo and spent the next six hours learning to open my eyes and keep the contents of my stomach where they belong. Which is all just an excuse for why this entry is late, in case anyone was actually wondering. Back to your regularly scheduled Trail Tale:
We were up unusually early today (“today,” whatever, humor me) because another man had set up camp nearby, and he was not a quiet morning prepper. He was also a mega-talker. I’ll be grateful to Hobz for the rest of my life for accepting the brunt of that extreme morning conversation.
Finally, off we launch into our last day, 10 miles that would be just a little up, and then a whole lotta down. I made a pact with my knees that if they would carry me gently down, I would give them the whole next me week off, and a hot bath as soon as I could find one.
The hike itself was the most unremarkable of our trip. We had enough water, our packs hade noticeably lightened, the weather was a little warm, but the trail well-shaded. Sometimes we chatted, sometimes we contemplated life, the universe, and everything. Feeling confident in my identification of chanterelles, I stopped every time we spotted a healthy patch and plucked a few to bring along. We sniffed a few wild flowers.
We could hear the town of Damascus before we could see it. Cars and a few other random industrial noises filtered out through the trees. The trail spit us out into a pretty little residential area, and then it was just a moment before we located our car, tucked in its nicely shady corner by the library. High-fives were exchanged and boots immediately traded in for sandals.
Dustin worked some magic on the contents of the car while Hobz and I went to raid the library for stamps (none) and advice (too much), so that when we got back there was a whole empty seat available for Hobz. We started by dropping him at a hostel so he could settled, then went in search of food.
“Hiker hunger” is a thing that happens to through-hikers (mainly) after too many long days on the trail without enough calories. I swear it’s happened to me, even without so many days in a row, when we did the Grand Canyon, and the Tetons, but this time I had packed so much food, my hunger never stood a chance. The giant cheeseburger I ordered only got the standard treatment: gobbled about halfway gone and no sign left of the fries. I didn’t even feel tempted to order a piece of “crack cake” for dessert, though with a name like that, I sorely wanted to.
And then that was basically that. We gave Hobz the box of food he’d mailed to us and stuck around long enough to make sure it had been sufficiently stocked (we topped him off with some granola and extra candy) and then it was time to say goodbye. Hobz has another 10 days on the trail, and we’re off to DC.
Thanks for having us, Hobz! Thanks for teaching us all about Type 2 fun, theoretically and practically! Dustin already seems ready to sign up for another round next year. Me? I owe my knees a hot bath first, and then we can talk.
Happy trails!!
Thither & Yon 