Too Many Conincidences

1. The Original Injury

We began hiking on April 11 at 8:40 for what proved to be a very eventful day. Our plan was to eat lunch at Roaring Fork Shelter and then camp somewhere around Walnut Mountain Shelter. We made a long hard climb up a mountain called Max Patch. It is a bald mountain, they used to land planes on it. When we got there it was windy and cold so we pressed on.
Just before the Roaring Fork Shelter is where we saw all the bear sign and read the account in the journal log of a hiker who had a bear encounter. (See Hot Dog, Hot Springs, below) By the time we reached Walnut Mountain Shelter the wind was howling, the sky was getting dark and it was obvious we were in for a storm. The shelter was on top of the mountain, the opening faced into the wind, there were no flat spaces to pitch the tent, so we made the decision to press on.
We at this point is Jennifer, Myself, and a hiker we had been with for about two weeks, Fred Davis, trail name Kiwi. We thought it would be good to get down off the mountain, out of the wind, and out of the clouds.
In order to stop and camp we needed two things. A water source and a flat spot. That is all. And if they are close together that is great. We hiked down, down, down, and the weather got worse, worse, worse. Finally about 2 hours before dark it started to rain on us and we still had not found water and flat. So we plodded on down hill in the rain. About an hour before dark we crossed an old logging road, then just a few yards down the hill a stream that would serve nicely as our water source.
“Let’s camp here,” I said, with water dripping off my cap from the rain. “We can get water here and pitch our tents up on the old logging road.” Kiwi balked, said he wanted to try to get to Hot Springs tonight even though it was another 8 miles or so. Jen said, she would do what ever I wanted, but it was clear to me she would like to get to town out of the rain as well.
“That will call for our first night hike.” I reminded her.
“Well we have to do it sometime she said.”
Kiwi said, “You guys can do whatever you want, but I am going to go on.”
We thought about it and followed Kiwi down the trail.
After a while Jen thought we could probably go faster if we traded positions. “Let’s let Rodger go first, he hikes a little faster, and we can make better time.” She has regretted that statement a lot in the last few days, but I have tried to assure her that she wasn’t to blame for what happened.
As we continued to slog down the trail in the rain and the mud, all of a sudden my knee just burst into pain. I didn’t twist it, fall on it, bump it in any way. It just gave out. I could barely stand to put any weight on it at all.
We were reduced to limping down the trail, rather I was limping and Jen and Kiwi were following slowly. We tried to get Kiwi to leave us and go on to Hot Springs but he wouldn’t leave us. He said we were in this together and no amount of persuasion could convince him to go on.
I struggled on down the trail, very slowly as dark crept up on us. We came to a road crossing, I found a flat spot, and Jen and I stopped and pitched our tent, Kiwi went on to Hot Springs. We didn’t have water for dinner or breakfast, but according to the map the next water was 2 miles on down the trail. I didn’t think I could make it that far.
The next day we hobbled on into Hot Springs where we were planning a few days rest while meeting Krista and Andrew, our grandbaby.

2. The Next Few Weeks

The knee was never pain free again. It would get very stiff at night. I could hike uphill without pain, but I had to be very very careful on down hills. If they were very steep down hills I had to be careful not to take too long a step.
However, to keep going I was taking 1600 to 2400 mg of Ibuprofen every day. We knew that couldn’t go on forever. There were good days and bad days, but we suffered through them, slowly making progress towards Maine. Whenever we were someplace we could get ice, we iced all four of our knees. But we continued on.
We were getting into the Virginia country where the mountains were not so high and we were making better time. We needed to make around 15 miles a day here and we were doing it regularly.

3. The Beginning of the End.

After a week or so of 15 milers the knee began to act up. On the day before we quit it hurt both going uphill and down hill. It was a miserable day. I began to think for the first time about quitting. I wasn’t sure how long I would be able to endure. In addition to the ibuprofen I took some Tylenol to tide me over between doses of Advil. Even that didn’t help.
We finally stopped about 3½ miles short of our target that day when I finally had just had enough and we found good water with a great camping spot.
The next morning we hiked about 30 minutes, all uphill, and the knee hurt every step. When we reached the top and started down the pain was just more than I could handle. I stopped and told Jen, “I just can’t do this anymore.” She was disappointed, but very understanding, so we turned around and went back to the last road.

4. The Hand of the Lord, we believe.

The day before I began to hurt so bad we stopped at a road crossing where there was a Forest Service Campground. Some one had left it in a mess. There was trash everywhere. While we were waiting for water to be ready I went over and kind of kicked around in the trash and found a Virginia Road Map. The maps we have are of the AT only and sometimes you just wonder where you are in relation to everything else, so I told Jen I was going to keep the map. I put it in my pack.
The next day was the day I hurt all day, up and down. We crossed a road, VA state road 42 just before we found the campsite that we stayed at.
On the fateful morning we changed our morning prayer just a little. We prayed that God would make it clear, the choice we needed to make. When we got to the top of that first mountain and took the first step down, He made it very clear that I wasn’t going on, at least not today. So we hiked back down to the road, VA 42.
The AT map showed us nothing about where VA 42 went. If that was all we had we wouldn’t have known where to go. But. . . we had the Virginia road map. So we were able to make a plan of action.
The closest towns were too far to walk to. So we needed to hope for a ride. VA 42 is a country road through farm country with very little traffic. For 30 minutes or so we tried to get a ride the direction we needed to go, only one car passed and one water truck. Several cars went the other direction. We decided we would try to go either way, which ever we could get a ride.
The next car came along, going the wrong way, but we put out our thumb anyway. The man driving the car slowed down, rolled down his window and asked, “Can you tell me where the Appalachian Trail crosses this road?”
“You can’t see it from here,” I told him. “Your car is on top of it.” Actually we told him he was at the place and he pulled over into a parking area and got out of the car.
“My brother and I are section hiking but I was feeling sick so I didn’t go with him today. We will be hiking this section tomorrow and I brought some Dr. Peppers up here to hide so they will be here for me when we get here. Let me go put them up the trail then I will come back and I can take you anywhere you want to go. I don’t have to do anything today until I pick my brother up at 4pm. (It was about 9am) ”
So this 64 year old section hiker, Dan Martin, took us to Marion Virginia and took us right to the roadway inn where we checked in. Then he took us to the Laundromat where we could put our clothes in the machine. Then he took us to Wal Mart to get something besides hiking clothes to wear. Then back to the Laundromat to put the clothes in the dryer. While the clothes were drying he took me to the bus station to buy bus tickets.
After he dropped us off at our motel again he said he was leaving to get his brother. After they got back and his brother cleaned up they would be going to dinner. He said he would be glad to come back and take us to dinner with them. We did.
Then he came back at 10:30 to take us to catch our 10:45 bus. He and his brother waited there with us, even though we told them they didn’t need to, until the bus came, 30 minutes late.
What a blessing they were. People like him reminded us what hospitality is. Jen and I are both determined to put in to practice some of the hospitality lessons we learned on our hike.