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June
18, 1983 Saturday (1552.2 mtg) From
Gonzo!s Appalachian Trail journal
The
rain seemed to have subsided (at least for the morning), and Jim
began to boil water for himself as I went to relieve myself in the
woods. This morning the trail entered into an area where a couple
of hikers had been murdered two years ago. I had heard about this
when I was on the trail in "81." At that time we all heard
that the killer was still on the loose and heading south. That meant
we could run into him at any time! We were all scared and some hikers
even decided to buy knives or pistols. This section of trail was
kind of "quarantined" when I came through the last time,
so I had not been on this particular section before. The pine boards
of the shelter where the murder had been committed have been replaced,
and there is no longer any sign of blood, or the fact that something
as gruesome as that had even occurred in the area. There still seemed
to me to be a chill in the air since I was aware of the events that
had taken place in "81, and we passed by the Wapitti Shelters
while the weather was nice, continuing to our lunch stop at Docs
Knob Shelter. This put us eight miles away from our goal.
The rhododendron were spectacular at this time of year in this area,
particularly on the descent towards the New River Valley and the
city of Pearisburg. We encountered a pretty good rainstorm during
the descent, and Jim took a class 10 wipeout face first as he lost
footing on the steep descent. That brought the full load of his
pack right down on his head when he hit the ground. Not a fun thing.
Luckily, he was not injured, and we continued down to the civilization
below. Pearisburg is one of the largest of the trail towns, and
even though it is technically right on the trail, the blue-blazed
side trail to the Holy Family Hospice is about two miles long and
up a steep road at the very end. The post office happens to be before
the hospice, but we had not made it there in time, mail would have
to wait until Monday.
Upon arrival, we found the place packed to the gills. I was not
expecting that. Judging by the registers, there were not many people
directly ahead of us. That means one or two days ahead. Apparently
many were hanging around waiting for the rain to stop. There is
also that unseen magnetic pull that sucks hikers into hostiles and
just never lets go. It provides such pleasures and vices that the
tempted never want to leave. Some hang around for weeks on end drinking
beer, gouging themselves with food and having the time of their
lives. I talked with several of them before showering and then running
down to the store for supplies. There is a small store not too far
away from the hospice where I picked up a gallon of milk, a box
of raisin bran, and five bananas - most of which I ate for supper.
I felt uneasy in the crowded upper bunk area of the barn-shaped
structure, so Jim and I decided to spend the night out in the fresh
air underneath the cone shaped roof of the gazebo pavilion just
out back. The bunkhouse provided a stuffy, noisy atmosphere that
I did not want to deal with, the pavilion offered a nice cool breeze,
and for some reason there were no mosquitoes. It rained occasionally,
but we managed to keep dry. Tomorrow would be a free day since we
did not get to the post office.
I hope some of the residents leave tomorrow morning.
Gonzo!
Appalachian Trail Journals ©1983
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