Entry for June 8, 2007
Here's another entry for you, straight from the hiker's mouth to your stomach: for easy digestion.
(ok so I didn't write this all down - but it's long and I didn't want to write it all out by hand, I've got this day or two ingrained in memory)
6/5/Tuesday Chestnut Knob Shelter
Today was a crazy day. At many points during the day I thought "I'll have to write today because I have something good to write about." It's hard to believe this was all in one day. The morning started in Crayfish Valley where we camped out the night before. It rained fairly hard for a couple hours early that night - I was moving a log to a less-smokey part around the fire when all of a sudden the smoke swelled up in my face: the wind changed direction very suddenly, it picked up some more, and soon enough clear skies turned into a storm. That's okay, it just sent us to bed early. In the morning before I left I went back to the creek to get some more water and to watch the crayfish and frogs some more. I got a pretty late start, but it was going to be an easier day so I wasn't too worried about it.
The first mile was a moderate climb uphill, and then the next mile was a moderate climb back down. Since it was still very wet I was taking my time, but I guess I wasn't careful enough, I had my first fall of the trip -- that is, a complete feet-out-from-under-you take out with your pack on. I stepped my right foot on a log that was placed as a step on a switchback and it was slanted a little downsloping to my left... my right foot slipped left, and my whole body went to the right, downhill into the trail. It was not a bad fall but... you still don't like those things to happen.
At the bottom of this hill there was a large sign. It said that the AT was about to go through private lands, and that there was a narrow corridor through which hikers could walk - if they walk outside this corridor they need express permission from the land owners and such. Well, it was a pretty strange corridor. I came out of the mountains and into a rural/agricultural area - but the trail had been negotiated from the land owners for a long time, because 15ft to my left and my right was a barbed wire fence where a natural forest ended and farmland began. Then, the trail shot out into the farmland, which is always interesting because you're walking amoung cows. There are some sections of trail where you have to climb up and down these sketchy ladders that are put in place so cows can't escape (there is barbed wire on either side of the fence), and on some days you have around 10 of these things to scramble precariously over with a cumbersome pack on your back.
These cows just watched me and mooed. Over the next stretch of land there must have been a farmer who isn't as careful with his barbed wire fencing because I was going down a set of switchbacks when I made a turn and saw the trail covered... with cows! I kind of rolled my eyes and thought "oh good, I get to make friendly with a bunch of fat domesticated oafs." Soon as I start walking to make the last turn down those switchbacks I heard some thumping and looked up -- there was a beast weighing over 1,000 lbs *galloping* at me. I stopped and put up my arms and starred at the thing... if it kept coming I would have had to come up with something better to do than that, but luckily it stopped just then. I had a couple seconds to think about what I wanted to do, but in short time 3-4 more cows came trotting up behind this first one. Ok, well now I was getting a little worried. I know -- *cows*. But I still didn't want one of these things running into me - or the next one after running over me! So I kept watching them, and slowly stepped away, off the trail, down a short but steep hill onto a grassy field at the edge of the forest. I started walking towards the direction I thought the trail was heading. They turned and slowly walking beside me, up in the forest. All of a sudden, I heard shuffle of noise behind me: one of the larger cows trotted down the slope and onto the field, behind me! Now it had me out in the open. I started to make like I was heading back up into the forest... the cow trotted right up that hill back into the woods, and right back down when I came out. I just walked and walked, keeping an eye on that thing, no idea what it wanted or what else I was going to do. I finally got to one of those damn sketchy wooden ladders and hurried over it. What a crazy bunch of cows! Two minutes later, up over another ladder - more cows. They were milk cows though. They were cool.
After a few rounds of road crossing and stream, up a hill, down a hill, repeat came the 2,000ft climb. Virginia took us up a steep climb to where a long bald ridge began, and continued to go up after that. I'd been feeling dizzy and weak a few times this day and I still had diarreah so I wasn't exactly crazy about ending a 16mi day with a 2,000ft ascent. I was feeling pretty good for the first 500ft, first mile or so, but the weather was starting to worry me. It had been clear all day, but just like every spring/summer day in the south, it can T-storm in the afternoon whenever, especially in the mountains. I started hearing thunder in the distance, and that got my adrenaline running. I wanted to get to this shelter because I did not want to camp on the steep hill side, with no water, feeling sick... plus people at the shelter were expecting me. I also did not want to be caught in the middle of a bald ridgeline with my backpack, tent, and trekking poles. The adrenaline carried me a mile without slowing down - when I got to the start of the ridge, I saw that the sky was clearing up. At least on a bald you can see where the weather is. The next ridge to the East was getting dumped on. The West looked fine for now. A short ways up I found the spring by the pond and met up with some hikers, got 3 liters of water because I wouldn't have any at the top of the mountain at the shelter, and pressed on.
The last mile was very slow. I was dragging my feet - well not literally, but I was actually dragging my poles. When I finally got to the shelter I took off my pack and got settled. There were a lot of people there - more people than I'd seen in one area at once on the trail since GA. We rearranged sleeping accomodations to squeeze everyone in, and I went off to the privy to take care of some pressing concerns. I got that out of the way none-to-soon because a storm came in with heavy rain and some cold air. I realized I hadn't bothered to make dinner yet, and I thought I must be hungry so I should start cooking. I was still weak and tired, and perhaps I can blame that on why I spilled denatured ethanol, knocked over my pan while it was cooking... looked clumbsy all-around. I was also getting pretty chilled. I toyed with my food for a while, and eventually started eating it, only to find out that I wasn't hungry - at all. I forced some of it down, but I fed the rest to the dogs in the shelter. I went to bed feeling really cold, so I zipped my sleeping bag up all the way. It was a rough night's sleep, and I got very sick throughout the night. I woke up around 1, and I knew I had to go to the privy but I didn't want to move - I was weak and had flu-like muscle sores. After about half an hour of coercing myself to start moving I got up and shuffled outside to the privy. I did my normal uncomfortable thing, but I didn't feel too much better. I stood up... stood there, cold and wet air blowing at my legs... then I quickly turned around, shoved my head through the toilet seat, and after about 5 or so purges and a few dry-heaves I emptied what little contents of food I had in my stomach.
The next morning I lied in bed for hours, and Coldy was kind enough to make some sugar-water drinks for me to get some sort of calories in my system. It was so weird, I couldn't eat *anything* - after backpacking all this while, that was just so strange. Bullwinkle and Fishstick gave us the number of a woman who lived in Abingdon who was the mother of a hiker they just helped get off the trail who was sick in a very similar way I was, though they said he had it even worse. We eventually called and got a ride, and Allgood (the above-mentioned hiker) came by to pick me up. He took me to a hospital where I got asked the same questions many times, and they didn't seem to understand that I wasn't from around here and that I'd been living in the woods the past month and a half. I got my temperature taken (102.2 F), blood samples drawn (to test for antibodies from viruses), and even got a rouge chest x-ray (any ideas, Mike? I didn't tell them I had a cough or any trouble breathing). I had to propose that they screen for giardia because that somehow didn't cross his mind as a possibility... "because I've been in the woods the past month and I have all the symptoms of it..." They wanted to hospitalize me, put me on fluids IVs, take a stool sample, and have me wait around in there. Craziness.
I signed an "against medical instruction" form saying I wasn't about to pay rediculous amounts of money to lie around in a hospital for no reason. I proposed I give them a stool sample, leave, and call back for results. The nurses were super-nice and the agreed to do it that way, even though I don't think you're supposed to. The nurses were local... the doctor is probably all caught up with himself and pissed off he works at a hospital in the middle of nowhere.
So they're going to grow a culture of my poop and check for bacteria... they also sent some off to get checked for protozoans and I guess cysts too. Then if they find anything they'll put in a prescription for an antibiotic and I can stop by any pharmacy and pick it up. I'm feeling a good deal better now, but I'm still kind of weak, queasy, headachy... after going to the hospital, Allgood took us back to his house in Abingdon (Coldy came with me to the hospital for moral and medical support (I like having a biology source around me when making medical decisions...)) and his wonderful family has been kind enough to let us stay in their home for a couple days while I get better and start eating right. This is all part of the trip though... and though I came off the trail, in a way I'm still on it. I'm not about to quit because I got sick (a third hiker had the same symptoms and he called his girlfriend to come pick him up and take him home), and this sort of phenomenon with the connections, strangers willing to help you out, and even the sickness I got on the trail that I still have with me is all part of the experience - and that's what "the trail" really is: more the overall experience than anything more narrow or tangible than that.
