Lions and tigers and--you know the rest

We headed out of Waynesboro after our zero day, riding once again with Bill Gallagher, one of the amazing trail angels here in VA. Last year, Bill drove over 11,000 miles, transporting hikers. After he dropped us off at the trailhead, we hiked several miles, down through a field. We came upon a fence with a shelf on it, loaded with bottles of water and a card with Bill’s name and number. He drives out there every morning during the hiking season to provide water for thru-hikers. Of the many great stories he told us, he mentioned that when he was a kid, he read a National geographic article about the AT and told his parents that one day he would do it. He hasn’t actually thru-hiked himself, but he’s helping so many of us to accomplish that goal.

Heading across a field near Waynesboro, VA

A little trail magic, courtesy of Bill Gallagher

From Waynesboro, we headed into Shenandoah National Park (SNP). Gotta admit, we did not particularly enjoy our Shenandoah experience. For us, the shelters weren’t spaced well—either too short or too long a hiking day. Not to mention the fact that it was a holiday weekend, so people and dumbassery everywhere. Our first night, we stopped and stealth camped a few miles short of one of the shelters. I should point out here that SNP is one of the most bear-intensive sections of the trail. Bears—and all wildlife—are so acclimated to people that they will approach you for food. So we were very strict with our bear-bagging procedures. We’re lying in our tent that night, I’m half asleep, when Eric pokes me and asks what we do when the bear is outside the tent. Pause. I know what to do on the trail when I encounter a bear, but honestly? In the tent? Not a clue. So we lay there for a LONG time, listening to the bear circle us, being as still and quiet as possible. We also started collapsing our hiking poles and keeping them in the tent, so we would at least have some sort of poking implement.

We ran into more issues with bears in SNP. The next day, we found out a shelter had been closed because another hiker hung their bear bag low, directly above their tent. So a bear trashed the tent to get to the food. The problem for thru-hikers was that, on the holiday weekend, all of the campsites and lodges in the park were booked. The rangers ended up creating a little ghetto for us at Lewis Mountain campground, which meant campstore (beer!) and showers. As an interesting historical aside—Lewis Mountain was the only campground open to blacks during segregation. The next day, we continued on to Big Meadows Lodge and campground, to pick up a maildrop and have some lunch. It was almost laughable how obviously it was the “white” area, even these many decades later.

Thru-hiker zone at Lewis Mountain Campground. We have to be
 roped off from the general population, for everyone's safety.

On the deck at Big Meadows Lodge.

Historic Big Meadows Lodge.