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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). Jim began
to boil water for himself while 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 murders had been committed had 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 be a chill in the air since I was aware of the events that had
taken place there, so 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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