21, 1983 Tuesday (1551.5 mtg) From
Gonzo!s Appalachian Trail journal
was a day with little to remember; especially when one figures that
one of the highlights was left covered up in the ground several
yards off the trail in the woods as the result of all of the eating
I had done back in Pearisburg. I did see two deer today. We ate
lunch at War Spur Shelter after about twelve miles, where we met
a fellow hiker using the trailname "Trick-knee"
(Troy Martin). Obviously, he had some problem with his knee.
the day Jim and I had an irritating squabble about whether it was
time to take a break or not. I am the kind of guy who just keeps
on going with little time for breaks. Jim seemed to want more breaks.
I got disgusted and said, "OK. Let's take a break." This
got a break for Jim, but I think the manner in which I accepted
it was not appropriate. Once more, I think that we should have traveled
a little bit more independently. (A note of interest, six years
later the same type of situation evolved when my fiancée
and I attempted to hike the Appalachian Trail together, but that
is another story.)
trail was rocky up towards Pond Mountain Lean-to. We had carried
water all the way from War Spur Shelter, which is where the last
good spring was located. The area since Pearisburg has been kind
of dry compared to farther south. To conserve water, we ate a cold,
dry supper. Good thing that Mom and Dad had sent us a roll of summer
sausage. We had to save our water for drinking.
Lora and Oreo, his dog were at Big Pond Shelter when we arrived.
He had just finished his laundry and I think I offended him when
I made a comment about his dingy grey underwear that he had out
on the line to dry. I said something to the effect of "nobody
wears underwear out here because they get like that. Get some
shorts with the built in mesh panties." Although my statement
may have been true, I guess I did not say it tactfully enough, it
was supposed to be a joke.
I checked out the pond near the shelter and found it to contain
an interesting community of sphagnum moss. There was no open water
in the pond, it was overgrown with sphagnum and other plant life.
Appalachian Trail Journals ©1983