After the 15 mile day on Sunday, I slept deeply. When I woke up it was after 7. One of the other hikers in the shelter was already gone. The other was making himself breakfast.

The rain had stopped but the air was still heavy with humidity. The Kiteman and Short Term were still burrowed in their bags. I crawled out of my bag and was assaulted by the cool, wet air. I slipped some pants on over my shorts and put on my shell jacket, which was mostly dry now.

I cooked my breakfast, (easy, hot and yummy) of instant grits and I drank some coffee. I was in no rush. I all day to get to the next shelter. It was nine miles away over fairly level terrain. As usual, Short Term and the Kiteman hit the trail. I sat around and drank my coffee.

I like these longer trips. This was the third morning waking up in the woods. You probably wouldn’t believe how quickly a person can forget their normal routine. In just three days, it seemed as normal as can be that I was sitting at a picnic table, putting my boots on. Just another day at the office. Get up. Cook breakfast. Pack up gear. Put on Boots. Walk. Walk. Walk. Eat some lunch. Walk some more. Arrive. Unpack sleeping bag and change clothes. Make dinner and eat it. Relax a bit. Maybe read or write something. Go to sleep. It is a lifestyle, I could get used to. Or, more accurately, it is a lifestyle that I very quickly do get used to.

The walking on this day wasn’t bad. I followed the trail down a hollow with a picturesque stream running next to it. Across the stream from me, I could see ruins. Foundations of buildings long gone. It was long ago, in fact, a village formed by newly freed slaves. They lived there successfully for decades until the federal government reclaimed the land to create a National Forest on.

The trail led me around the Lynchburg Reservoir and to a bridge across the Pedlar River There sitting at the bridge were Short Term and the Kiteman. I announced that I was going to cook myself lunch. As I prepared my ramen noodles, Short Term gathered his stuff and headed off towards the climb that was ahead of us. I ate my lunch and the Kiteman stomped around looking grumpy. He was tired. The walk the day before had done him in. I assured him that toady we were only walking 9 miles and he would feel better tomorrow.

Walking all day is hard. It is even harder when you do it with a 40 pound pack on your back. Then add in a rocky trail that goes over mountains and down in to hollows. It is hard work and it can wear you out. The exhaustion is cumulative. One long day wears you down for the next. If you are used to weekend trips, these longer trips can come as a quite a shock. During a weekend you can push yourself and then crawl in to work on Monday and try not to move much. But it was Monday and we still had miles to go.

The Kiteman headed out as I finished cleaning up my cooking kit. I packed my gear up and hit the trail. The climb was pretty steep, but I pushed on at a pretty good pace. In time, I passed the Kiteman. And then Short Term. Finally I arrived at the Blue Ridge Parkway. There I found Short Terms car waiting for me. Short Term and the Kiteman caught up after a few minutes. For Short Term, this was the end of the trail. We grabbed supplies out of his car and said our good byes. Short Term got in his car and drove away. The Kiteman and I were left in the woods. So we did the only thing that we could. We started walking.

A short, but steep climb brought us to Punch Bowl Mountain Shelter. Each Shelter has a unique feel to it, and this one was no exception. There was a pond there, which seemed odd up here on top of mountain. We unpacked and got ready to cook. We needed water. Most shelters have some sort of source of water. At this shelter, it seemed to mostly just be this pond. We pumped the water through the filter, but it just didn’t seem like enough.

The pond was shallow and murky. The water was relatively warm. And if that wasn’t enough; there in the water, there were salamanders and polliwogs. Yes polliwogs, you know those critters who were once tadpoles but haven’t yet become frogs. And as I took a closer look, I realized that the polliwogs were attacking and killing the salamanders. Somehow no amount of filtering seemed like enough.

It was a beautiful setting. The pond has mist rising off it and the air was remarkably still. It was easy to relax there. There was a young guy, whose name escapes me, there when had arrived. Several hikers showed up while we were preparing dinner. Micheal the Austrian, Swanson and Kurly, Sourdough and his dog Action Jackson, Rocky and Bullwinkle. We talked about where we had hiked and what was ahead for us. We exchanged stories, we laughed, and we listened. As the sun went down, the peeper (they’re frogs,) joined in. It was a great night. I went to sleep feeling relaxed and looking forward to several more days of hiking.

I’ll see about getting some pictures up for this one on Monday or Tuesday.