On finding that google maps now offers walking directions, and realizing that google occasionally hides cute things in their apps, I asked how to walk from Springer Mountain, GA, to Katahdin, ME.  The directions provided were almost all road walk, though it did include the statue of liberty ferry to get to Manhattan.  The directions went right through the Bronx Zoo, exiting it less than half a mile from where I live.

The recommended path is just over 1400 miles, about two thirds the length of the Appalachian Trail, and significantly less rugged.

Virginia, like Ruffles, has ridges Today I was released on the trail where it's crossing from one ridge to another; I climbed the ridge, walked it for a whie, and came down the other side so I can climb the next ridge tomorrow. It's different from eastern Pennsylvania and New Jersey, where I seemed to be on the only ridge in the civinity; here there are a number of ridges running parallel to each other. There is some rock, but my ankles are largely grateful to be here. There's more climbing here, but it may yet be amenable to making some miles. Without hurting myself. Hopefully.

I'm at Niday Shelter tonight, and it's crowded. Two of the folks here say I met them in the Smokies; I just know they look familiar. I wonder whether I'm more memorable than other people or whether I just have a worse memory. They and two other coples will share the shelter with me tonight while two other people tent nearby.

Some of these folks come with news. Kyle and Michelle are a bit behind me and, with Willow, were at Trail Days (as were many of these folks). I'm rather on a schedule and don't expect them to catch me.

I saw a sign on a tree today indicating the "Eastern Continental Divide," with the Gulf of Mexico to the left and the Atlantic to he right. My response was instinctive and immediate: I peed on the tree.

Good Luck.
-7pm May 20, Niday Shelter, VA

There's nothing like the whipporwill to remind me what I don't miss about New York City. It's pervasive here, and its call is loud, unconstrained by any obvious day/night cycle, and, after a while, strikingly reminiscent of a car alarm.

There is -- this may sound strange, because unsurprising -- a lot of nature in the Virginia woods. I've seen a lot of deer, haerd a lot of birds, encountered a lot of snakes. It is surprisingly noisy at times, though not as noisy or annoying as the city, the whipporwill notwithstanding. The flora are more visually interesting with spring now well underway -- the trees are leaved and blossoming, and much is in bloom. What seemed very peaceful two months ago in Georgia has come to life in May in Virginia, and hiking is a different experience.

Of all those people at Niday Shelter, I was the first out of camp Wednesday morning, and I seem to have quickly outrun the crowd. The next night I shared a shelter with one person, the next non, and Friday one --eventually.

The two highlights of the trail that were coming up were Dragon's Tooth and McAfee Knob. (Actually, for many at camp that night, they were the Store and the Homeplace Restaurant, the latter closed on Wedensday, for which reason people were deliberately slowing their pace so as to arrive in Catawba on Thursday.) Someone said they had heard the McAfee is higher profile, but Dragon's Tooth is just as interesting. I went to Dragon's Tooth on Wednesday and failed utterly to see the attraction The rock itself isn't that interesting, and the views from the rock are fairly mundane for that part of the trail. The building was more annoying than interesting. The fellow with whom I spent that night at Catawba Mountain Shtler agreed, and we hoped McAfee Knob the next morning would be better.

It was. The rock outposts were more interesting, the views more spectacular, and particularly the climb down was les mundane or tedious than from Dragon's Tooth. If you have occasion to hike one or the other, visit McAfee.

The other big highlight on my mind Thursday was Daleville. I had been to a coffeeshop there a number of times, and fairly early  in my planning for this trip I had included a full day or most of a day in Daleville to spend a vaguely Parisian afternoon eating, drinking coffee, reading and writing. After my ike got dismembered, thoguh, spending that much time just 50 miles from my embarkation point didn't make sense. The next good -- "good" in a qualified sense -- place to stop for the night after Daleville was 5 miles on, and I figured I would need to leave Mill Mountain Coffee around 4:30. One of the goals Thursday, then, was to get to Daleville and do resupply quickly enough that I could spend some time at Mill Mountain.

I got to McAfee Knob around 7:30am, the Tinker Cliffs around 9:45, adn the next shelter around 10:30, where I resituated myself until about 11. I finally made it to the road almost right at 3:00 and turned left, walking the 500 yeards to the shopping center that includes both Mill Mountain and the grocery store. I went into Kroger's*, bought my supplies, got out, and looked at my watch. It wasn't yet 3:30. I nearly wept with joy, partly because I had built up the visit to Mill Mountain in my mind, partly because I was a bit exhausted, and partly because I was pleased with myself at having apparently pulled off the stunt of a 22.8 mile day with resupply and still left enough time for a leisurely sit and eat.

*I would encourage everyone at some point to walk 18 miles in the woods, then straight into a big grocery store. It's surreal.

That evening I ran out of water, but was still in a good mood, until I got to Fullhandt Knob Shelter and found no water there, either. I wold have to get by until an hour and a half into the next day's hike; I ate, hung my bear bag, and went to bed.

That night I heard a large animal trudge through the woods behind the shelter, then around the shelter and to my food bag. It spent about half an hour fussing around near my food bag before heading back into the woods; the next morning, and each mroning for the remainder of the section would begin with a look over toward my food bag and a quiet sigh of relief that it was still there.

While we speak of the trail running north and south, it ends up largely northeast of where it begins...