June 3rd: Drenched through to the bone

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Lost on the Moores. Rain started at 4AM drumming on the tent fly ever so
lightly at the start, then growing in volume as time passed. Wind rustled the
pines surrounding our nylon home, then slowly gained strength until it almost
shrieked. Violent vibrations shook the aluminum skeleton and thin skinned house we
tried to sleep in. No water came through the nylon, but with each gust it seemed
like we would be drowned in rain. We laid in bed drifting in and out of our
sleepy dream world until 7AM. The wind and rain had abated little since it first
woke me at 4. CC and I were slow to rouse and not motivated to crawl from our
warm, dry bags.
Breakfast was cooked in the vestibule without incident. The rain slacked off
long enough allowing us to stow all our belongings in our packs without getting
them too wet. I have carried my rain pants since day one and to date have not
removed them from their pocket. Today I pulled them on and was thankful to have them.
Looking around our knob the scene was bleak. Fog shrouded the nearby peaks in
Swirling, misty veils. Wind howled like a banshee bending the scrub pine to one
side. Rain soaked every plant and living beast as the onslaught came from a sideways direction,
not vertical like normal. Visibility was limited to say the least. Bushes shook
like a Labrador retriever after fetching a duck wetting you down as you walked by. We
stepped into a surreal world as we headed down the mountain. Wind, rain and
trees combined made a noise was so loud, you could close your eyes and think you were
at the beach hearing the surf pound the shore. 100' was about as far as you cold
see once in the forest. The trail in places seemed to be almost all glistening, slick, twisted, worn, knurled tree roots
bared by thousands of boot soles over decades of Thru Hikes. Moss covered rock
ledges dripped water into the small stream that was yesterday’s trail.
Birds and animals are hidden away; no sound can be heard in the forest except wind, rain and leaves that the wind is trying to tear from their branches. We
talk very little, heads down, shoulder hunched over against the wind as we trudge
onward into the driving rain. Crowded trails and throngs of hikers that were
yesterday’s hike are only a wet memory. We hike alone today. Our world is limited
to the 100 feet or so we can see in any direction. Then out of the fog and rain
comes a NoBo hiker. Dressed in rain gear, water coming off him and his pack at a
45 degree angle in the wind. We smile at one another and ask jokingly if it is
raining going the other way. Throughout the day we pass only four hikers, all
wet, all miserable, all walking regardless.
Walking through the open areas is especially difficult. The fog is so thick
trail markers are hard to see. Wind blows the grass over flat obscuring the
trail. It drives rain into your face so hard CC asks at one point if it is
hailing. Wind also jostles both of us so badly trekking poles act as props and
extra appendages preventing us from being toppled.
Nearing mid-afternoon we have descended from the weathered heights of near a mile
high down to the 3,200' level. The wind and rain abate and the sun even tries to
burn through the cloud layers and warm us up some. We are soaked to the skin
through all our rain gear. Fingers are white prunes from five hours of driving
rain. Toes squish in wet socks inside waterlogged boots. Will we ever make the
shelter? Only two stops for nature calls today. No snack breaks, no lunch, no
rest breaks 12.2 miles of walking straight in almost six hours.
We stumble into the shelter just after 3PM. There are four tents already setup
and people are gathered around the front of the shelter conversing about the
days walk and the weather. Many are bundled up with most of what cloths they
have on. The rest of the clothes are hung from ropes stretched from any anchor point that will
hold the weight. The shelter has taken on the appearance of an 1800's Chinese
Laundry. CC is unable to warm up. We put the tent up and she has changed into
what dry stuff she had and crawled into her sleeping bag. I boiled some water
and filled a water bag making her a hot water bottle to help the warming
process. I made an early supper and took CC's portion to her in the tent and had
her use the stove as a heater in the tent. One of the fellows built a fire and I
took CC's stuff one item at a time and dried it beside the fire while talking to
the other hikers standing around the warm wilderness TV (fire). By 8PM CC had
recovered enough to come out and join us by the fire and was doing much better. The tent site is level, the shelter area is
quiet and it looks like a good nights sleep will be had by all.
We had walked from Thomas Knob shelter up Briar Ridge gaining 329'. Then
dropped down into Deep Gap loosing 200'. After that we continued down crossing
VA600, White Mtn Rd, Buzzard Rock, VA601 and US58 ending up at Lost Mountain
Shelter, 3,100' some 2,629' lower than our highest point of the days walk.

Patrick, Deborah Mooney aka OD & CC
All Who Wander Are Not Lost

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