In the sweltering heat of July, I embarked on a hiking adventure through the Shenandoah, a journey that would test my endurance and resilience. Despite my best efforts to escape the scorching temperatures, the heat dome loomed large, and I found myself baking in the haze. But superstition and a well-planned itinerary kept me going, and I was determined to replicate my heroic hike from the previous Friday.
I started my journey on the trail, mostly downhill, and stuck to my itinerary. However, I soon realized that swapping between the AT and Skyline Drive would be a faster route. I took a shortcut on the AT, which was overgrown and exposed to sunlight, but it wasn't the most pleasant section. I continued on Skyline Drive, enjoying the views and the cooler temperatures.
After covering 9 AT miles, I was eager for a break. I enjoyed a heaping scoop of blackberry ice cream and contemplated my options. I decided to hike but plan to spend the night on trail somewhere within 10 miles of the van. This would set me up for an afternoon finish on Saturday, when I would really relish the free time.
I made up my mind and hiked out onto Skyline Drive while carefully curating a route on FarOut that would make the most of retro-blazing while taking a few small shortcuts on the AT. I was cooking not just miles but also my entire body, and I was questioning how far I could go.
I reached the creek before 7:00 PM, plenty of time to hike more, but the next camping area was 4.7 miles further north – and largely uphill. I quickly surveyed the area for a tentsite. The options weren't great but they would do. After guzzling a liter of water, I realized I wasn't going any further. I needed to get my shoes off and let my feet breathe.
I pitched my tent and inflated my sleeping pad. There was no need to lay out my sleeping bag liner or quilt, I had no need for warmth. I yanked off my sweaty hoodie and laid it down on the sleeping pad. I felt a little better with my shoes off but I was still sweating, the humidity was relentless. Every other day so far had seen the temperature drop significantly after 5:00 PM. Not today. I was cooler when I was hiking since I am cutting through the air. Laying still in my tent in unmoving, humid air my temperature was remaining constant. I asked for the sun to set so the temperature could finally come down. It would be another hour before any such relief would arrive.
I was hydrated, but everything else was in rough shape. I kept waiting for a second wind that would magically carry me to the Denton Shelter. It never got close to appearing. Instead, I was sweating more than ever before, the air getting heavier the more I descended. My feet had been softened by the road walk and were not used to the rocks. Half my steps made my feet feel numb – not a good thing but at least they weren’t in pain. The other half landed on rocks just large enough to hit a pressure point on my feet. The downward momentum brought on by the declining trail was like walking on pebbles with an extra 60 pounds on my shoulders. My attention was briefly diverted from the state of my body when I spotted two adolescent bears in the woods ahead. I scared them off easily but I logged the encounter in my mind as I was considering camping less than a mile ahead at the creek.
In the end, I reached the creek before 7:00 PM, and I knew I had to stop. I had covered 30.4 miles, and my feet were badly beaten up. I had to take a break and let my body recover. I was grateful for the water I had, and I knew that I had made it through the day. I was ready to rest and recharge for the next day's adventure.
