At times you will no doubt be glad to not be the real person in the book, and at others you may wish you were there instead. By the end however, I hope at least a drop of inspiration has been transferred from me to you to, to explore as a beautiful nomadic woodland creature.

At 21 this was my first significant parentless journey. It will soon be only the first, the mere first. The first step of my real life. Although I am not likely to forget it, as I did my first physical baby step.

I wrote right then and there on the journey. I wrote it at the top of mountains and huddled in my tent during thunderstorms. I wrote it when I was desperate and, more of that not, I wrote after eating a much-needed meal. Due to this it has no chapters, as they could not be planned. It contains everything that changed me. It is in its original chunks, pruned into shape. Each time I sat down to write I put in the next number.

I chose to hike alone. I wanted to push myself to the limits, to find out what lies under this fleshy-hair-mesh, as well as examine society from the outside. My research told me the weather “could be oppressive in a heat wave”. Well, what are the chances of there being a heat wave?

The Appalachian Trail runs approximately 2179 miles (3,507km) from Springer Mountain in Georgia to Mount Katahdin in Main. My aim was to hike from Harpers Ferry in Maryland to Damascus at the southern end of Virginia - almost the entire length of the state of Virginia. This section covers 550 miles along the AT, and enough detours for re-supply to make it at least a 600-mile hike. My Southbound direction was during the boiling hot Virginian summer, when everyone else follows the nicer weather North.

I set off and follow a sign for Appalachian Trail south, but it only shows the direction of the trail, not the trail itself. I am unsure how big the Shenandoah river is, but on the map there is a railway running along next to it and a road the other side. I cross the railway as the map says and cross the river too, but the river looks rather small and stagnant… I keep walking. No white blazes, it can't be the right way. I flag down a police car and ask if he knows the way to Jefferson Rock. He does, and so I arrive once again at the start of my hike, only this time in the back of a police car. What an entrance! The police man shows me a white blaze in Harpers Ferry and warns me this section is known as 'the rollercoaster' due to all the ups and downs. In the police car he tells me the 'river' was just an old canal (as I suspected) and he talks about the world cup. Set off hiking again, in the right direction this time. I ascend up some steps. Minutes from being dropped off I am drenched in sweat. My pack is very heavy and it is the evening of a 100 degrees day and is humid also. I keep going up. I stop (collapse nearly) for a rest and type a long text to my parents, but it wont send due to no signal and in my jet lagged, exhausted and dehydrated state I accidentally tell it not to save it… oh well. Sorry mum and dad. I get up and discover Jefferson Rock was only just round the corner. Jefferson (Thomas) said it was an amazing view, “worthy of crossing the Atlantic for”, but it is only ok, and now there is a massive bridge with lots of traffic in the middle of his view.

I cross the Shenandoah on the big bridge and head into the woods. It is getting a bit dark. I keep going, but it is now getting dark quickly and there is nowhere good to camp, the path is thin and steep. Eventually it flattens out (momentarily…) so I decide to camp there. I know I am not meant to, but the stove-man said if I am discreet and practice the 'leave no trace' it will be ok. He also warned me about bears, saying there are an especially high number of them around and people who hiked through Shenandoah saw 3 or 4.

Tent is up. Sun is down. I fumble to cook some rice, but realize I have a stove, butane, rice and a plate and water to boil, but no metal container to boil it in! I shove it all away and eat some salted cashews, an energy bar and some sultanas. It is pitch dark now and I hurry to get my food in a bag to hang up out of reach from the bears and not in my tent. The forest is making strange noises. Fireflies are about outside my tent. I get all my food in a bag and fumble the rope, which gets all tied up in itself. It takes me 10 minutes to untangle it in the dark. My head torch it seemed snapped in transit, making it now only a torch. I head out into the dark eerie woods, noises all around. I need to find a suitable tree. I find a stick and tie the rope to it and repeatedly chuck it up at a branch. It isn't an easy shot and it keeps falling back down and getting tangled in branches. I am topless, in the dark, trying to untangle my rope only to re-throw and miss and I am starting to get rather scared of the jungle noises. It takes me about 20 minutes of fumbling and throwing and getting more afraid until finally I get it over. I tie my food bag to the rope and lever it up… it falls down, my knot is wrong. I tie it again and hoist it up. It isn't high enough, but it will have to do because I am getting the **** out of there. I head back to the tent. For a scary moment I cannot find it in the dark, but suddenly it appears. I unzip it and go inside. It is as hot inside the tent as it is outside. I lie in only my boxers for many many hours, still sweating. My back sticks to the roll mat. There are LOTS of strange noises. I keep thinking I am hearing a larger animal… maybe a bear. Eventually at about 4am I fall properly asleep for a couple of hours.

I am awoken by an almighty crash, the sound of a big branch falling. I am convinced it is a bear. What other animal could rip off such a big branch? It must be trying to get at my food. My heart pounds. I think about looking for my penknife… but that wouldn’t do any good and I don't want the noise to draw attention to me. I hear more noises. More rustlings. There must be a bear out there rummaging around. It's probably got my food bag down and is enjoying a feast at my expense. I'll have to go back to Harpers Ferry and tell the story to the stove-man. I hear more rustlings, more twigs snapping. It is close. I sit up alert. I give up listening and lie down and shut my eyes but then straight away there are more rustlings. This happens a few times. Eventually I peek out through the mosquito lining that runs around the base of my tent. I see a big black fuzzy shadow. Is that it? I stare at it for a while. I can't tell. It isn't moving. More rustlings. I realize my food is on the other side… not where the noises are coming from… strange. Why would a bear come so close to a feast and not take it? I peek outside again. The big black shadow is still there. I don't think it is a bear. The sun is rising fast now. Once it’s fully light, at 5.40am I slowly venture out. I poke out my head first and look around. Nothing. I get all the way out and put on my shoes (still wearing only boxers) and look. Still nothing there. I walk up to where I left the food bag, watching all around as I go. It is still there! And in tact! I leave it there for now and go back to the tent (roughly 30m away). In the light I see three chocolate bars were left in the tent with me over night. Doh! I laugh, what a story, what a joke. I get dressed and packed up. There is definitely no bear. I see no bear tracks or anything. “Bearanoia.”

2. I have now seen within 48 of USA arrival, a beaver, 5 deer, a vole thing, two bright red birds, an eagle (or some big kind of bird), 2 little terrapins, and fireflies (and the obvious, trees, squirrels, butterflies, humans, etc) and far too many mozzies. At one stretch I had to walk along slapping my face, which made me laugh more than hurt (note: laugh on the inside. I do not walk along slapping myself and laughing). Also of note, I saw a zagged brown lump on a fallen tree that I couldn't tell if it was a lizard or a poo. Interesting. “No time to poke that now!”

3. I get to a shelter and springs. The spring is meant to be 0.2 miles away from the shelter. There are two hikers at the shelter and I passed some on the way, one was a woman taking photos of the terrapin. One guy with a strong accent I struggled to understand said he had been to Cambridge and that it had a nice coffee shop. I said, “yes, it has lots of nice coffee shops”. Then another said quickly “I'm Loon, glad t'v met ya”. He walked on too quickly for me to realize “loon” was his name, and not an admission of insanity (edit: I now realize it is probably a trail-name, so it was a bit of an admission really).

The spring is a very long 0.2 miles down a steep narrow path and it is a measly little spring. There are mozzies everywhere. I use a little bottle to fill up my big bottles awkwardly straddling the little stream as the flies attack me. I put in the tablets and whip out the mozzie spray. It works. It will take 2 hours for the water to be purified so I fall into a restless sleep right there under a tree (I later learn from “Hopper” that no one waits the full 2 hours, 30 mins does the trick…). There's a caterpillar vigorously climbing my bag. I put him on a leaf. He climbs up and down it pointlessly, and I watch wondering if the big black ant will eat him. It doesn't. I see the caterpillar cut part of a leaf off. I imagine him being old and wise and writing his memoirs in a book called, “Life on the leaf.”

I make it back up the steep 0.2 mile track having to stop twice. I don't want to sweat. I only have a little water to make it up as I foolishly drank lots upon arrival thinking I would have lots, forgetting I would have to wait 2 hours. I make it and have another more proper nap on a bench with my mat, my back sticks to it again. I eat lunch and go through my food. I have enough for today and tomorrow, but not the third day. My rice cannot be cooked without a metal cooking pot. I don't think it is enough to get me to the next food point at the end of the 3rd day, roughly. But a young man with a massive baleen-like orange beard said a hostel coming up did great spaghetti… hmmm. I test out the new water now that 2 hours has past. Tastes normal, boring. The leaves on the trees were beautiful when I awoke from my brief nap. I then get out the alphasmart and write up the events, having decided to not hike during the hottest part of the day today. Plus my shoulders are killing me. I consider that if I became a travel writer I would have to keep doing completely new things because otherwise I would stop making silly mistakes, such as all of the above, which would give me nothing to write about.

4. I get to Blackburn hostel. I go down lots and lots of stone steps to get there. I thought it had Internet but it seems I misread the booklet. Still, I can go for a number 2 and refill my water. I hear there will be food here later and lots of hikers. I think about staying as I am running out of food due to not being able to cook my rice. There is loud thunder and a few brief bouts of rain. I decide to keep going as getting closer to the next food place cancels out not eating a meal here, so I put on the waterproof covering for my pack, but it didn't rain again. I walk quickly; it's quite flat and slightly cooler than yesterday. I make the 4 miles in about an hour and 20 mins to Sand Spring which is a decent stream with a little campsite with one fireplace. No one is there. I eat more cashews, cake, raisins and wafer things with plenty of time before dark (lesson learned!). I hang up the bear bag in a good spot without difficulty. A hiker, mid twenties, male, comes to fill up his water. He says the usual American greeting of 'how you doin', I say, “hi”. He says walks past saying “how’s the water here?” I say “yeah,” thinking at first he just said “there's water here”. He leaves. I am too tired to interact, having gotten 7 hours sleep in 2 nights when I should be getting lots. I look at the photos on my phone and the videos, depleting the battery somewhat, but I was expecting Internet so that quenched my desire for familiar people.

I write this as the sun sets twinkling through the trees. It is pleasantly warm. Tomorrow I will wake up early and get to the Bears Den hostel, which DOES have Internet for about 7am. Bears Den has a short-term resupply store but that is only open between 5pm-9pm but I don’t want to have to hang around all day waiting for that to open, so instead I plan to ask someone there if I can borrow their cooking pot to cook one meal and then I will cook loads and loads of rice and put it in a carrier bag to eat during that day. Then I can eat my last bits of food the next day and re-stock up in the evening at Monterey convenience store. (Fingers crossed I can borrow a cooking pot or I'm stuffed!). I could actually make it to the place now if I packed up my tent and hurried, but I am too tired.

5. I arrive at Bears Den hostel. I go inside briefly just to on the Internet and send emails to my family before continuing along the trail. Instead of carrying out last night’s plan I have a good look at the guide and find a little village called Bluemont a few miles further on where there is a store. I go off the trail into Bluemont where I resupply. A banana and a giant tomato are especially yummy. The woman at The Village Market said there were no saucepans at all in her store, but she told me to hold on a moment. She returned moments later from her house next door and gives me a saucepan for free! Hurray! I continue along the trail refreshed from the fresh fruit and pleased with my new ability to cook rice.

I meet some nice people at a shelter. One has the trail-name Twirl. She is distributing her husbands’ ashes along the trail as he requested. Another is called Griz. He warns me that he isn't the Griz that everyone has heard bad things about. There is a girl called Olive Oil and another guy about my age who I talked to most, but I forgot his name and a girl name Hopper. I learn of a great all you can eat Chinese in Waynesboro that has a section especially for smelly hikers. Waynesboro is at least 100 miles further south. Hopper saw 13 bears in Shenandoah! They seem unbothered by them. There is a hikers-log here which I have taken photos of, people have written hilarious stuff. I leave in an uplifted mood from the good interaction. It is just as hot today as ever. I press on but fall short of my target of reaching the creek beyond the next shelter. I don't even reach the shelter, due to spotting little bits of mud in my water which makes me decide to refill from a stream which is also had bits in it so I have to boil the water.

As the evening arrives I find a spring and single campsite with fireplace. I sit down and rest and think about the order I'm going to do things. But this spring's water is muddy too and it’s too shallow. Every bottle ends up with tiny water boatmen going around inside of it. I think and decide to stay with my dwindling 500ml. It is only a mile and a half to the shelter tomorrow for more water and if I have to drink it tonight due to the heat I can boil some water boatmen… I hope I don’t have to. There is now 200ml left. I can't drink anymore until I set off tomorrow unless I want to boil up water boatmen water. Its 7.30pm. I hope to sleep for 8+ hours. I look forward to making it to a resupply tomorrow for fresh fruit, and then the next day I should make it to Front Royal, where there is a Burger King. Drool. One of my tent pegs snapped today… I was hardly even pushing on it. Perhaps the heat makes it softer. Argh. It doesn’t matter much but if another one snaps I'll be down to the minimum required for my tent to work. Goodnight.

6. Day three of hikingB. I hiked 20 miles! The last 5 were in an hour and a half in the cool evening, I am proud of that! I Entered Skymeadows Park, which is was very beautiful. I took photo of myself at Paris viewpoint using the cameras’ timer and then I had lunch there. There was a visitor center where I bought a $40 cooking pot and gave the one the Bluemont lady gave me to the people there, and left my pink plate and cup there too (the cooking pot came with a bowl). The cooking pot the Bluemont lady gave me was too big and heavy for my stove, which is why I bought a new one. I chatted to a few people at Skymeadows visitor center. I walked very far this day. I looked in mirror in the restrooms. I am more muscley than I ever have been!

The rice I ate for lunch outside the visitor center in my new lightweight cooking pot cost me a total of $100. $100 rice. Yummy. That cost is derived from the stove, which was $40, the $40 cooking pot and the butane and rice itself. I flavoured it with raisins. There was a kid catching a baseball in glove as I ate. He said to the thrower, “that ain't no cutter, that’s like a hard-core slider”. I’ve no idea what it means. I enjoyed today lots. I’m sure I will make it now, after some doubts yesterday caused by the AT rollercoaster, which is one of the most strenuous sections but is where I started. I am still looking forward to that burger king at Front Royal… hohoho. I only did 16 miles on the actual AT today, but took a 3.5 mile detour to the Skymeadows visitor center bringing it up to about 20. I gorged on a hat full of wild raspberries on the way back up that I somehow completely missed on the way down to the center! Someone said “great raspberries along here”. Delicious. Only 10 miles to Front Royal, I will be there tomorrow! I will stay in a hostel over night and then go the library on Monday morning where they will have Internet. I have white blotches on my t-shirt. I tasted them; they are salt. From my sweat! Tasty.

7. Considering trail names. Possibilities are: Jedi Jones, Gandalf, Hobbit, Treebeard. I just went for a piss completely naked and rather enjoyed it… I am tempted to do some of the trail naked… perhaps “Naked hobbit?”

8. I did 10 miles this morning then I hitched a ride from the trail to Front Royal 4 miles. The guy who picked me up was called David who studied Philosophy, which I have studied a few units of and am very interested in. He quoted Aristotle, “reason is the slave of the passions.” It’s a shame the journey was so short we had little time to discuss it. I am in Front Royal now. There was a battle here with Stonewall Jackson… I think it is in a film I have. I must watch it again. I think the Court House here is the same as in the film. I am about to go see Toy Story 3 to rest my feet and relax, then I will get a room at the quality inn for $60… a bit expensive but oh well. Peter dropped me off at burger king; he was very nice. He is from New York State and had a funny accent, like a Chinese person who has learned american-english, despite being completely white. He talked a bit like a robot with short sharp endings to words. I liked him though. I ordered a triple-decker-mega-bacon-double-whopper meal (or something) but it was surprisingly small. I got a medium ice cream outside and it was surprisingly big. I will stay the night and go online tomorrow when the library opens. I know I will make the whole journey now. Adios!

9. Monday. Had all you can eat breakfast at the Quality inn with a middle aged couple from Newcastle. I didn't find out their names, probably because the were English, still, nice people. They are on holiday and have had 11 days touring Virginia and are about to fly up to Canada where they have relatives. I return to my room and put the radio on and boogie and shower to some great rock n roll. I am looking forward to getting back on the trail! The radio says about being in love is to do with dopamine, and that it is similar to a cocaine high. He says you can be asked “have you ever done drugs,” and reply, “no, but I've been in love.” For me the answer however, is the opposite.

10. Great day today (Monday). Best so far. I got shuttle to the trail from the Quality Inn in Front Royal at around 10.40am. An awesome black guy named Steve drove. I asked him if he lived in Front Royal. He said, “Yeah man I live in Front Royal, gotta get away from all the drugs n violence ya know.” I didn't know, but his manner was very friendly. When I told him I took a plane I said,

“My plane arrived in Washington at…” which made him think I flew it myself. He was amazed and exclaimed,

“Woah boi, you flew here, on a plane! wow! How many times d'ya refuel?” Eventually I explain I was just a passenger. When he dropped me off I asked him if he knew which way was southbound. He says, “good question,” I say I have a compass. He tells me to wait and says, “hmm, lemme see. I'm gon use my ol' skills. I trained with the 22nd airborn ye know, yees I did.”

“Really, cool,” I reply. He lines him self up (with what I didn't know), bends his legs and sticks his arms out in a funny pose. He suddenly shouts,

“THAT WAY,” pointing behind him. “That way's south,” he says proudly. I get my compass and ask him, “Which way did you think it was?”

“That way,” he points down the trail we can see from where he pulled up. He looks at me hopefully, his thick lensed glasses making his eyes big and distinctive.

“You're right, it's that way,” I tell him.

“YEAH! I told ya I got skills, I trained with the 22nd airborn ya know.”

“Nice wow, very impressive.”

“You see what I did there?” He asks. “I lined my body up with the sun and did it. You see it rises in the east, sets in the west,” (I know that… but I wanted to be certain). He explains to me in much the same way he explained in the drive over about how to cross the roads. Very detailed and a bit hard to understand. - I had told him I wasn't sure how it worked here without the little white man like in DC. He uses his hands a lot to gesture. Also on the drive he told me how he grew up with the 'English rockers', when I told him I was from England. He says he loves the stones and says he can name any of them.

“Hendrix,” I say,

“Hendrix, yeeah,”

“Bob Dylan,”

“Bob Dylan, yeeah,” then he says, “Beatles,” I say that I love the Beatles. Then we are there and I am getting out the door, he is still going “err erm who else…” We get out and have the compass bonanza. Then finally he says, “Mind if ah send up a prayyer?”

I say, “sure”. He does it right then, ending with a strong American “Amen,” I say a quiet English amen and set on up the trial. I ask the first hiker I see to make sure I'm going the right way, I am.

11. I sit here now in Shenandoah national park at a spectacular overlook. I can see 4 lines of hills/mountains off in the distance before me and the sun is filtering through the clouds in a pinky/purply fuzz. There are some huge birds flying around. I thought they were eagles, but a guy who's also heading south says eagles are rare in this area. They are probably vultures or hawks. They are massive, brown and fly effortlessly (excuse the cliche, but that's what they do). The temperature is perfect and there is a warm breeze. The number 7 key has fallen off my alphasmart. I can hear bird song rising up in all directions from the green forest below. An incredible sight was just gifted upon my eyes, it lasted the briefest of seconds. A grey cloud softly pads the sky. A perfect beam of light just shone though it like an alien gravity lift illuminating a circular patch of forest on the opposing mountain. I didn't know whether to expect harps and angels singing or an space ship to emerge. Neither did… apart from in my imagination.

I’ve reached Gravel Springs shelter. The guy who told me about the vultures is there, I find out he is called Scarecrow. So are three middle aged women from Pennsylvania. They are very friendly and encourage me to stay. I tell them I have no trial name and so they say I must stay so they can give me one. I quickly am “christened” as “Upright,” because I tell them how I slept upright in Washington airport and because they think of English people as Upright people. I like it. They saw a bear just before I arrived and beat their pans to get it to go away. I wish I had seen it (the pan beating, and the bear). I say it is like chimpanzees smashing the forest up in a power display. They feed me all sorts of dried food. They have been section hiking the AT for 3 weeks every summer for 5 years. They are pros at preparing dried fruit in advance. They feed me dried banana pieces, cantaloupe, which I don’t know what it is, I suggest I thought it might be some kind of antelope. They laugh and say it is fruit. They offer me more food to go with my rice. It is delicious. I say that it is better than anything I could cook in the real world anyway. They laugh. One of the ladies jokes that hopefully I wont see “7” bears as that my number 7 key has fallen off (although it still actually works). We will all sleep in the shelter.

I also saw a bear cub while doing my teeth! It was about 20 feet away and is my first bear sighting. They are such beautiful animals, little fuzzy face. 'oh mamma bear where are you?'

I found my thoughts wandering to some funny places as I walked today. I wondered who would win in a fight between a bear and a gorilla. I think, providing they were equal (roughly) in size/weight the bear would, because claws beat knuckles, and teeth beat… a silly face. More importantly I HAVE A TRAIL NAME - UPRIGHT!

12. Tuesday, 1 week into my grand adventure! As with hills, my mood must go down at some point. While Scarecrow and Monica and her two friends were very nice, they snored. VERY loudly. One of them was like an elephant sucking up custard. This made me more antisocial today and less physically able to cope with the challenges. Thankfully, it is cooler, and so I decided to really go for it and try to make a 25 mile day - a long way by anyone's standards. I make the first 13 miles by around 12.30pm, good progress.

I expect to have lunch at a shelter by a spring but there is a hiker couple making-out there, so I fill up my water and take a look at the guide. In 1.5 miles there is a side trail to a Panorama. That sounds like a nice place to have lunch. I set off. I make it to Thornton Gap where the AT crosses the US 211 which goes into Luray. From this gap it should be a quick 0.2 miles to the side trial to the Panorama. I cross the road, enter the woods, stub my right toe and then stand on a sharp rock making my left toe feel like your funny bone does after it gets a nasty whack. I continue, grumbling as I go. There is another road a couple hundred meters away, I guess Thornton Gap is for two roads… didn't say that in the guide. Grumble. I cross again. OK, so from NOW it should be 0.2 miles to that Panorama where I can finally have lunch and a well deserved rest after almost 15 miles this morning. It is a steep ascent. I go up about 0.2 miles, no side trail to a Panorama. But there is a car park and I see a post labeling that spot as Thornton Gap. RAAAH! So now it MUST be 0.2 miles the Panorama, they just marked the gap from the furthest point possible on the other side of the two roads.

I continue the steep ascent, having to stop once briefly. My legs are giving up. I feel I have been deceived. I can't tell if it's the bad nights sleep, the long distance I've gone today, or just the unfortunate sign posting but I am not in the best of moods. I keep going up, contemplating slumping down and just having lunch and my break uncomfortably on the side of the trail, with bugs crawling up my ass and no Panorama. No, it must be any step now… maybe round that corner. No, maybe the next one. No. I am still ascending and it is a steep ascent. Finally I see a spot that is acceptable. It's not a Panorama but it has a bit of a view over Thorntons Gap. My thighs are set a-flame stepping over some big rocks to get to the spot. My legs practically collapse. I have found a new limiting factor. Usually it is the heat, causing dehydration and very slow cooling down. Then it is the bag's weight on my shoulders. And then there are the painful feet in the mornings/after long breaks. Now however, it is my legs themselves. The very pillars that hold up this creaky old library. They can barely hold me anymore. You see, due to the heat, I had begun to think the human body was like a robot. Give it more fuel, let it cool down and it will just keep on going. But unfortunately it is like a robot, only a more complicated robot. Even with the juggernaut of hydration and temperature out the way, the legs are still only (failing) muscle and bones. At least I have plenty of beef jerky to provide protein to fix them. Now is where I set off again to find that Panorama is just around the corner.

13. I managed 22 miles in the end, not 25. Oh well, I tried my best and it's still pretty far. I never saw the signposted Panorama, but the drama is over, I am rested and eaten and there were plenty of good views. I set up my bear bag properly high this time. I aim to cover 20 miles tomorrow and will buy a nice lunch at the big resupply place at Bigmeadows wayside.

I’m in my tent camped near Stony Man View. I’ve discovered a rock under the tent making my roll mat lumpy. I switch sides, shifting my bag and stuff over. I lie down and for the first time my back doesn't stick to the roll mat. Oh wait, yep, it's stuck again. Today was the first time I felt my knees suffering a little. I will get hiking poles after all. I struggle into my shoes sockless, I need the loo. I come back and write more. I’ve forgotten to do my teeth. I forgot them last night too, better do it. Last thing I need is my teeth falling out. I squeeze sore feet back into my shoes again. Doing my teeth costs me a mozzie bite and 300ml of water. Also my camera's memory card filled up today. I’ll have to go to a town to get that sorted…

14. 6.34pm. I have never ached this much in my life. I did another 21/22 miles today. After about the 17th mile if I sat down for longer than 5 minutes my legs would cramp, ALL OVER. Somehow I kept on going. I have left a few devices out to stop the bears, namely my smelly socks, a puddle of urine, and I have considered farting lots, but I don't want to risk a misfire. Today I passed the miles by drifting into my imagination. I imaged making lots of money when I get back, and how I'd do it, down to the very act of not licking my lips greedily when the 7.5k for 2 months is offered… For some reason I imagined having to get my 10 year old cousin to eat his food. I would do this by pretending that muscles are giants bogies and are awfully chewy because they rip off part of the nose too. Peas are goblin bogies, and Brussel sprouts are elvish bogies. They are so big because they age very slowly, like elves, until you eat them. He asks me (in my daydream) “what about these?” gesturing to some runner beans. I reply, “those are just beans. Beans and bogie salad, a renound combination across all middle earth”. I think that would work pretty well on any 10 year old, especially one as nerdy as he is (and I still am…). I didn't have substantial conversation today. I passed through Big Medows. It had very nice views but too many people I found. I passed people every mile or so around there. When there’s that many people you don’t stop and talk to them. I resupplyed there too, $30 for what I estimate to be 2 days food. My trail food sure isn't cheap… money will be an issue. I aim to continue this big block of not staying somewhere where you have to pay for about a week.

I considered that the Appalachian Trail is very badly named, as I have not seen a single apple tree! Sorry about that “joke.” Aching muscles… I slept a good 10 hours last night, it was much cooler, even slightly cold which meant I could snuggle up in my sleeping bag which is how I sleep best. It never got especially hot today. The leg cramps are the main thing. If only I could have a full body massage… I had that conveyor feeling for the first time today, where you feel like you are walking on a conveyer belt and the world is going past. I thought I might be ill, as I also had a nose full of snot, but I sat down and drank 500ml, blew my nose, and it went away. I hear a crackling… will just test for bears. It's stopped, never mind. I hope I don't ache this much tomorrow or sooner or later I may actually pull a muscle. The ground is lumpy, even with my roll mat. I had to set it up at a fresh spot in the woods due to not being able to walk any further (my feet fell out - with each other). I also have a bit of pain in my back… ah well life on the trail! I completed the first 100 miles today! Big Meadows Wayside marked the spot. 450 trail miles to go. I just gave my calf’s a massage, or “mi kebabs” as I have come to call them. For the first time to today I attached my zip-on trouser legs and wore my log sleeved shirt.

I had thought part of my left toe had fallen off today. I thought my blister had turned into a callus and fallen off, attached by only a flap of skin, making it not hurt most of the time, but occasionally wince when it flapped back in place, making my toe too big for the shoe. I made myself wait in excited anticipation for at least 10 miles (until Big Meadows) but it seems my blister is still in tact. One of the many things science cannot explain. I dreamt of clean underwear and table football.

15. I set up camp early today, 4.45. I still made it 18 miles. I need to resupply tomorrow just for a day's worth of food and the food place doesn't open till 9, so there's no point being closer, I left it 3 or 4 miles away so when I wake up I have somewhere to go. Then the night after that will be my last in Shenandoah, and I will be camping for free at the YMCA in a town called Waynesboro. There is a library next door with computers. Today was fairy uneventful. It was cool, making for an enjoyable morning. At lunch a boy of about 16/17 asked for my help. He had a “bum foot”, he thought he had tendonitis “or something” and wanted to get off the trail back home for a few days. Unfortunately we had the same guide, and I wasn't a local like he had hoped. I offered him a bandage twice, but he declined politely. His plan was to get to the next road crossing and hitch a ride somewhere to get a bus home. I wasn't a local and so didn't know any other way. Good luck to him.

The last part of my hike today was very tough. Due to water locations and limited food I had to fill up 5 liters. While filling up I saw a possum, or something. 5 liters would be enough for a few more miles today, a few more miles tomorrow morning to the store, and cooking a double batch of rice for dinner and breakfast, and overnight tonight needs a little extra. The extra weight made my feet feel like I was stomping along, they felt like they could pop. Oh how they ached. Still, I made it far enough and I'll be taking it easy in Waynesboro soon. It took an hour to cook rice, eat rice (with fruit and nut Trail mix as flavouring) then cook more again. I burned my fingers conserving the hot rice water for the next batch, to save on butane which was running out (and feels pretty much completely empty now). I drank the rice water after both batches were done. With a bit of salt and maybe some herbs it would taste ok, otherwise it is just bland, but very filling, maybe more so than the rice. I had to defend my food for the whole hour from ants and flies and bugs, luckily the big black ants don't bite, but squatting down to check the butane was still burning every minute or so was a pain - in the legs.

It's a nice evening; I am on top of a hill with a faint view just about visible through the trees. I am actually on a rather prickly raspberry patch, most of the fruits here have shriveled up unfortunately but I got a few good ones earlier today. I had to weed out these prickly raspberry plants to avoid them ripping my tent. I know about leave no trace, but 'my feet ent goin no further' so I have to. I pulled out most of them. It doesn't look like my tent will rip. The sun is going down. I've just had to extradite 4 big black ants from my tent… they smuggled in here somehow those cunning little things.

You wont believe what just happened. Getting into my tent I felt a wince of pain in my knee. That's right, after hiking 18 and 22 miles the last 2 consecutive days, I hurt my knee climbing into the tent. It doesn't have to get me much further (32 miles to Waynesboro!), but it looks like I am going to HAVE to get some hiking poles, and possibly an extra night's stay at the YMCA to let it heal. Damn. Also my shoes are definitely too small now. My feet have swollen, as I read that they would. The swelling has resulted in 2 massive blisters on my right foot, although I didn't notice either of them forming. My left has been suffering from the small shoe size after a couple of days. I may have to get some new shoes… which will be very pricey. Double Damn. I realize a lot of this sounds very negative, but really I feel fully alive. The various trails are like when someone who loves their job works hard at it for long hours, sort of. It is great, and I know I will be drawing (or rather, writing) on this experience for the rest of my life. While I look forward to it all being over - seeing as it's the hardest thing I've ever done, it is something I must do. Rather like when native American adolescents go alone into the woods as boys and come out as men. It is a right of passage. I already consider myself a man, but in western society we have a delayed adulthood, and remain 'youth' for a long time. 600 miles is an amazing distance to have hiked. I can barely imagine having done it. What a thing to have under your belt. It could lead to going on dangerous and exciting archaeology digs in parts of jungle where major hiking experience is required… that could be fun.

I just had to go out again and squeeze into my shoes sock less to do my teeth. I am always forgetting that all out of routine. On the way into the tent my knee went again. Very painful. It had gotten better as I lay down for a while for walking about, but when bending right down it cannot take the strain. Hopefully it will be healed enough over night to make it to Waynesboro… or I’ll have to hitch. I am much more awake today. Yesterday I was falling asleep at 7.30pm, yet it is an hour later today and I feel ok. I guess those last few extra miles make a big difference. (5th big black ant just extradited).

16. I woke up this morning wondering why I am putting myself through this ordeal. I slept well, but waking up in a cold tent knowing that to get breakfast you have to put your sore feet into back into their shoes and hobble across the forest to a bear bag and unpick the knots with already messed up nails is never nice. I may have to go slower too because of my knee, making the promised land of Waynesboro further off. I even packed up my sleeping bag and travel liner before eating, which is the other way round to usual, just to spice things up. I remember now, it's good for my writing. That scene from the movie Gladiator appears in my mind, when the Emperer Marcus Aurellius asks Maximus, “tell me again Maximus, why are we here?” To which Maximus replies, “for the glory of the Empire sire.” “And what is that?” The Emperor asks. “And what is that?” I ask.

I just lost my bear bag rope up an evil tree. I got the bag down, but the rope on the other side near to where it was attached to the stick was all tangled up. It was only a light tangle and I thought it would just pass right over, but it got stuck. So I have one end of the rope in my hand (the end attached to the bear bag) and the other end is stuck in the tree. I untie my end from the bear bag and attach it to the stick I used for the other end and toss it back over. A plan that should work, but this tree is knobbly and its bark is very good at catching rope. It gets caught and all I can do is tugg at it. Bye-bye rope, you've served me well. As for you evil tree, take this, and that, and one of these. (I kick it - with the flat of my foot, not the blisters). Luckily the store is only 3 or 4 miles away and I should be able to buy more rope there. I can at least be glad that my tent hasn't been prickled by the raspberry plants.

This morning when I set off my morale was extremely low. I usually felt good at this time of day, but my body felt weak all over. For the first time in a week I had serious doubts again as to whether I would complete the trail (or trial). I had slept well, eaten well, I should be fine. I didn't know what was wrong with me. I am taking it more easy to day to raise my morale. I stopped to look at a couple of views for a bit longer than usual. That seemed to help a lot. I have been rushing through Shenandoah to try to get a 'few free days' at the end, but I wont have enough money anyway to stay anywhere half decent, so I may as well take my time on the trail. 15 miles a day is fine for that and 15 miles is easy for me. I will still probably take 2 nights in Waynesboro to have my first '0' day. I'll watch three movies and have a burger between each one! I can recover from anything with that treatment… Then I'll set off again with new found enthusiasm and keep to a slower pace that doesn't destroy me.

I just had to go down a very long 0.3 miles to a spring that is nothing more than a drip from a pipe… I have wedged my 2-liter bottle up to catch the drops. I need it full. It is half full and has taken about 10 minutes. Oh well, it's like nature forcing me to have a break when I need one.

17. As I sit right now my troubles are all gone. I am observing what is by far the most beautiful view so far. I am at Blackrock summit, still in Shenandoah National Park. It was a pleasant short ascent that ended with a scramble up a massive pile of rocks - where the summit gets its name (though they are more grey than black). I can see all around, 360 degrees. The mountains rise and fall around me and in the distant valleys I can see human settlements. The sky is a perfect blue with a few little puffy clouds with flat bottoms as if sitting on an invisible dome, and a smudge of wispy ones too. Over the mountains there is a faint pinky purplish haze and then bumpy mountains followed by layer upon layer of more bumpy tree covered mountains, like the dents on a giant green clenched fist. I have long imagined writing the sentence; “these are the moments that make it all worth while.” It's a bit of a cliché, but at last, this is one of them. It is one of those places that is impossible to bypass. Impossible to shrug and say, “that's cool, lets go.” You have to give it some time and respect. It fits you in place. I feel like a lost pixel on a screen that has finally found its right place. I could sit here forever.

My mood was actually recovered before reaching Blackrock summit. I was making excellent ground, without pushing myself. I think it was a mixture of the flat ground, extra resting and extra food that fixed me. My depressed state has been vanquished! However, I still intend to take that 0 day at Waynesboro, but I am now hoping to make it there tomorrow evening instead of lunch time the day after. That is, if I ever leave this summit. It is like I have been lured into a palace like in the Ancient Greek myth, where they can drink all day and stay young and just party and have orgies for all eternity. Anyone who comes in to get them is guaranteed to be put under the same spell. I assure you if you were to promise now to come get me down without wanting to stay a while to look at the view, you would be wrong. You would think, “oh screw it, we got him down now lets look at the view, it's more important that some silly promise.” Not that I am one to tell people what they would do. But that is what you would do.

In addition, last night I am more certain than ever that there was either a deer or a bear outside my tent. It went all the way around, not that close, about 15+ meters away. It’s footsteps where slower than people's, like a lumbering giant and I could hear them clearly. It was definitely something larger than a squirrel and smaller than a dinosaur. The chances of it being branches falling off trees in a circle all the way round are pretty slim, I say a bear or deer are the options. I've learned not to let these rustlings bother me. I just remind myself there's nothing that smells like food in the tent (hopefully, unless I've missed something) so I just shut my eyes and continue the partially deformed dream. Last night it was about the Russians, who apparently are checking out the Ukrain to see if they will become communists, then I was attacked by some Asian agents, one with throwing knives who never misses, but luckily I had my pack on so I turned just in time for his knife to land in my pack, while I did an amazing volt over a high fence, then another, and then an incredible twisting kick that involved flying sideways though the air. The agent was subdued, and I continued to sleep.

18. IT FINALLY HAPPENED! Just a quick mile after Blackrock summit I finally saw some. The ultimate bear encounter. I had discovered on my check of the guide after Blackrock summit that there would be an 11 mile gap between my water source and the next, so I had to fill up with 4 liters, making my pack much heavier just like the night before. I was walking along wondering how far I could make it with such a heavy pack, and whether or not my knees and/or feet would give in, when all of a sudden an adult mother black bear and her two cubs come bursting out of the bushes a mere 10 meters in front of me. The mother shoos her cubs up a tall tree, which they climb to the very top of with incredible speed and dexterity. The mother stops and looks at me threateningly. I push my arms out sideways to make myself look slightly bigger and slowly back away, without looking her in the eye (just as the guide say to do). I retreat do about 40 feet away. The bear cubs are up the tree somewhere and the mother goes off to the right rootling around. I stand and listen. The signs say that if you encounter a bear you should give it a wide birth by taking a detour. Problem is, I don't have a map, just a guide so I don't know which way to take a detour. I stand and wait for at least 10 minutes. The weight of my pack is forgotten. I listen to the mother’s steps. They sound just like the suspect bear last night. I wait longer. But then… there is another sound, just the same as the mothers'! And this one is to my right. Those mothers have pinned me down! I don't see the second bear, but I retreat backwards a bit more hastily up round the next bend. I don't hear the second rustlings anymore, but there was no trail there for people. I stand around the next bend for another 10 minutes or so. I want to continue down the trail, but if the cubs are still up that tree then I'll have to walk right past them. Not good for when mumma bear hears me coming towards them and comes running. I wait. Maybe another hiker will turn up and we can work out what to do together. But that's pretty unlikely seeing has hardly anyone is going south and they can't come up the other way because of the bears. I work out that if I go back up this bend and take a slow right turn I should meet up with the trail further down at some point. I head off into the untamed wild. I can still hear occasional rustlings from where the mother bear went but they are quite faint now, but the cubs could still be in the tree. Whenever I hear another rustling from that direction I take a few more steps left, making my circle around them wider. I hear the mother bear coming towards me so I go even wider. To my relief I stumble upon an old dis-used trail. There is a fireplace at the top with ash in it and it curves round in the direction I need to go. I march off down it. I am getting away. Wow. My baggage problems are gone I notice. It doesn't feel heavy anymore. The adrenaline has solved my problems. Thanks bears! Next time you are tired from hiking and need some energy, get a dangerous wild animal, put him near by and you will have no trouble at all getting as far away from it as possible. I hike the next part at 4 miles in an hour, a whole MPH quicker than usual for me (and other hikers). A couple of miles along the way I see a bear cub about 40 feet from the trail scrambling off at the sound of me. Wonderful. What a fantastic day! Tomorrow I have just 15 miles and I will be in Waynesboro for my 0 day.

I've just noticed my left ankle is swollen. It doesn't hurt though. I have also just discovered a major rip in my bag. It is on the right where it wraps around the waist. It is badly in need of repair. I'll have to get that sorted in Waynesboro too, as well as getting a new memory chip for my camera or having the photos moved another way.

19. Waynesboro. I arrived at the tourist info center to find an incredibly old old man who was practically deaf and couldn't talk properly behind the desk. One of his eyes was wonky and the other was blue and glazed over somewhat. I asked if there was a movie theatre a few times but he couldn't understand. Eventually he understood I wanted to go to go into Waynesboro and got out a phonebook to look up a cab number, but he couldn't find the number. Then when I said I'd go on foot and mimed with my fingers that I'd walk, (and say loudly that “I'd just walk then”) he said someone was coming to take him into Waynesboro soon and they could bring me in too.

I waited around pretending to be interested in the leaflets. A couple in their 60s who it turned out are Trail Angels arrived, offering to take me in to the YMCA, and they took the funny old guy too. They were very nice and gave me a little tour of the town as we drove. I showered at the YMCA and set up my tent. I wasn't sure if I set it up in the right spot, but it was the spot where the woman driving me had said the YMCA camping area was. There was another area over a barrier with a portaloo that said, “private property keep out, no trespassing.” I thought that might be the YMCA area, but I wasn't sure so I just set up my tent in the shade of a tree without crossing the barrier.

As I set it up a hiker walked passed and we had a brief chat. He could tell I was English straight away from my accent and make a bad joke about how it must have been strange hiking all the way across the water… then he walked off and continued talking, even though I was no longer there. I shouted, “good luck!” to him as he walked away still talking, but he didn't reply. He had said he was thru-hiking and was taking 5 months off to get it done and that, “it definitely is a test, test of endurance.” He went over the barrier and talked to an old guy with a big grey beard and a stick and set up his tent. I think my tent is in the wrong place, but no one seems to care. The old guy didn't come over to tell me to move it, but he did walk past a couple of times. He might be the porter that the YMCA desk person had said about.

I walk a mile and half to MacDonald’s and eat 2 triple cheeseburgers and a large chips and I buy a foot-long subway. I eat half of that too and keep the other half for breakfast. I am trying to gain some fat to burn on the hike. The day draws to a close as the sun sets, but traffic on the road seems to be increasing. I get out my earplugs and read on the packet how to put them in. I had put them in wrong at Washington airport (where I slept horribly “Upright” in a chair). I put them in properly this time and get to sleep after a while. I sleep ok, for about 8 hours or maybe less. I eat the other half of the subway. It’s all squished but still better than a trail breakfast. At about 8am it is already very warm and I head to the cash point. The moment of checking my balance has come. It shows it in dollars, I have $518 left. Not too bad, I may only have to borrow a couple of hundred pounds from my Dad after all. I withdraw $200. I only had about $45 left in cash from the $384 I brought over and it's only been 12 days, so I am getting through it pretty quickly.

I walk to the gear repair shop to check the opening times. It's a Sunday today and it is shut, but will be open tomorrow at 10am. Looks like I can't leave till tomorrow afternoon at the earliest, seeing as it takes time to repair a bag. I go to Kroger's supermarket and buy a big bag of kettle crisps, a bit bottle of diet coke (for the caffeine) 3 bananas, a peach, a plum, a bag of grapes, French bread and peanut butter. I look for a book section. I really miss books, I feel part of my mind that I had been building up is becoming weak again. I don't care about the extra weight, I want to read something. I find a section “choice books” but it only has about 10 books and they are all Christian books, and there is one silly book about “success in social situations.” I pick it up and skim through. There are ridiculous tips about hiding sugar packets under cups and what to do with soup spoons. I look over all the books again. How can this be the selection! America you are as illiterate as your foods are sugary. I ask a large black lady at customer welfare if there is a book aisle other than the Christian ones. She says “aao one.” I don't know what that means so I try to re-explain. “Aao one, aao one. Aao one.” “Ohh Ailse One! Sorry! Where's that?” She points me to it. I gasp in excitement. There is a whole aisle of books, paperbacks, best sellers, listed by author, the lot. I underestimated you America. Lots of them do look pretty trashy though, but this is still a feast of words for a starving man. I find a Paul of Dune, the 'direct sequel to Dune'. I think Dune is my favourite book at the moment and I've read the next two but this is one written by Frank Herbert's son, Brian Herbert. It probably wont be as good but I loved Dune and so I buy it. I cannot wait to get started! I feel like I’ve been in withdrawal from something, and I think that something is reading. I bump into a hiker I spoke to at the library yesterday (I went online there for an hour). He tells me the library will be shut on Monday too because “That's their holiday.” I don't know why it's their holiday, (unaware of the date being 4th July). I should have asked him if the kit repair place will be shut too. If it is I may have to stay ANOTHER day… oh well. Maybe I've been pushing myself a bit hard. This is about having an experience, not completing a mileage challenge at all costs. Does it mater if I only hike 500 instead of 600 miles and get enjoy it a whole lot more? I don't yet know the answer to that.

I feast on my food and book. Someone pulls over and tells me that they don't know if anyone will mind that I'm camped here, but I should move over to the other side of the barrier. I say ok, and finish my chapter. I get up and go ask the old guy with the big grey beard and the stick if I need to move. He says he's stayed here three days (not the porter then) and he doesn't see why I should move. He says as long as no one has a problem with it I can just stay there. The other guy didn't seem to have a problem with it either, he just didn't know if someone else would have a problem with it. So I stay. Maybe more people will say that maybe someone else will have a problem with it, but until someone actually has a problem I am staying put.

It is getting very hot. Heat wave is upon us and apparently will last 4 or 5 days according to the old guy. “This heat's bin killin’ me,” he says. I think he said he is a hiker, though he doesn't look like it. He says he's been thinking about hitch hiking up to Maine but he doesn't know if he could handle the bugs up there, so he's can't make up his mind and is staying here for a while. “It's a pretty friendly town,” he says. “People don't bother ya.” I agree with him, although the night before I had been thinking I don't like parts of the culture. The culture of driving everywhere and all the competing churches and the 'simpleness' of everyone. But they definitely are nice and friendly.

Almost midday. Getting hotter still. The lady at the desk of the YMCA and the lady who drove me said if I get too hot I “could always jump in the river.” I may do that later. But probably not.

(huge tree,left, from just before Waynesboro)

I have just returned from a sweltering walk MacDonald’s. Another 2 triple decker cheese burgers down the hatch, and they filled up my water bottles too. I have been thinking some heretical thoughts. I figure I've done 10 days and 160 miles of hiking through Virginia. Is doing another 30 days really going to add that much to the experience? I have been thinking there has been that oil spill down in Florida, the biggest one ever. They must need volunteers. I am thinking that I will wait around in Waynesboro until Tuesday possibly until the library opens and I can look online. Maybe there are campsites near the spill and I could just get a bus down and go help out for a few weeks? I may change my mind on this, waiting around that long will probably get boring… but for now I am quite happy to be reading Paul of Dune.

20. It is now Monday evening. I am still in Waynesboro, this is my second 0 day in a row. I will be off tomorrow morning. I ended up staying so long for a few reasons. One is the people here are nice. The guy who walked off talking too himself is actually a decent guy called Joker. And there's someone else called Hobo who just graduated from doing a 4 year history degree and there was a girl here called Nut hatch. She was extraordinary. As well as being very pretty, she hikes incredible distances, 35 miles yesterday, and often 30 miles a day. 25 a day is easy for her, where as for me 22 is the most I have done. She wakes up early and continues hiking till 1am at night. Night hiking, on her own. She must be mad! And after a whole day of hiking! I have no idea how she does it. She has given herself only 100 days to hike the entire trail and has only $800 left and she is only about a third of the way through.

Myself , Joker, Hobo and Nut hatch (and the old guy who asked us to call him Hitch-hiker) stayed up watching the independence day fireworks from the wrong side of the YMCA barrier. We talked about big issues, the Middle East, Africa, Israel, Iraq, oil, society, religious brain washing. They found my idea of being a 'cultural Christian' interesting. Joker wandered off on tangents quite a lot, at the time I was thinking that he, “talked a lot of shit” but he is a funny and nice guy. I just disagree on pretty much all of his political views. He says that he doesn't agree with treating anyone badly, but that black people were already enslaved, and so now the blacks in America should be thankful their ancestors were brought here because now they are free in America and not stuck, starving in Africa. I thought his argument seemed pointless, devoid of any purpose. I said that surely forcing people out of their homes, separated from their family and dumping them in better conditions against their will is not a good thing to do. But he said that yes that was wrong, but now the blacks are in America and “how many of them wanna go back to Africa? I don't know anyone who wants to live there.” I said they probably don't want to go to China, Germany, or any other country because this is where their family is now, not because Africa is some kind of starving barbaric wasteland. Hobo pointed out that they are still in a type of slavery. I agreed, a slavery not bound by laws or chains, but by their cultural legacy. Joker says that's better than living in a hut in Africa starving and getting macheted. I say that he is generalizing massively. He seems to think that all of Africa is just people killing each other with machetes. I point out that those are only in certain parts, and usually where oil or diamonds have been found that the west want to make money from. I.e. The west dangles the carrot for the machete wielding, and we exploit them in lots of other ways like child labor.

As you can see the discussion went all over the place, and wasn't all that informed, but talking with these new people about these topics on the other side of the world from where I live was good fun. It wasn't that intellectual and I thought joker would get terrible marks in an essay with his ideas, but it was the first meaningful conversation I'd had since the elephant-snoring women and Scarecrow in the shelter about a week ago. When Nut hatch (the girl) arrived, the conversation topic shifted to some more light hearted topics, but we also talked about religion. It turned out we were all raised as different varieties of Christian, and all agreed that Christianity, Judaism and Islam were basically the same religion. Hobo described me as 'spiritual', which I agree with. Nut hatch often spoke of her boyfriend, an obvious sign she was hanging out with us for conversation only… She said something like, “why live if we have all the answers, the answer could be right after the next blaze,” which was nice. Hobo, despite his seemingly un-patriotic and even sometimes pacifistic stances, is planning on joining the military. He will become an officer straight away because of his degree. He says it isn't because he agrees with what they are doing, but it’s just a good career choice. I stayed quiet here. I had a big argument (after a few beers) with a very good friend back home who's girlfriend was planning joining the American military because it was 'her only remaining option'. I argued fervently that people shouldn't give in and do something they strongly disagree with for money and that she would be basically be doing something really bad, and wrong and would have 'lost' in the battle for good and evil. At this point my good friend of 10 years said he wanted to punch me. Thankfully he didn't. This time, with Hobo and without any alcohol to slacken my foolish tongue, I kept my mouth shut. I don't know him as well either so I have less of a right to state my opinions on his actions. He is very nice and is also southbound. I may end up hiking with him for a while, or paying to split the cost of a room in Daleville, 120 miles away, which is where we both will be stopping off next.

Another intriguing development occurred while waiting around in Waynesboro. During the fireworks the others drank a few beers. I refrained, as I am abstaining from alcohol for the duration of my hike. After the fireworks a big fat black teen approached us. She (or so I thought) needed help setting up their tent. We all went over and showed them how to do it, despite having never set up that tent before. It was so simple, it didn't make any sense why they couldn't work it out. It turns out that the big fat black one and the companion are actually homeless, and evidently mentally and physically handicapped in some way. They are not hikers. The next morning (today) they were gone from their tent. It turns out that they went to the hospital in the middle of the night due to a “belly ache” and one of them had a miss-carriage. I learned this from Hobo, who they told and asked to keep it a secret. Apparently they want to have a baby. An utterly stupid idea. None of us really believe anything they say. I can now clearly see that the companion is actually female, meaning that the big fat black one is the male. They returned late morning and lay there doing absolutely nothing all day.

I may sound heartless, but they are disgusting. They are both as fat as manatees (which doesn't make any sense if the are properly homeless with no money), and they lie there with their legs on top of each other doing absolutely nothing. NOTHING. We can't help them. They have to help themselves, but they have brought down the mood of the YMCA area (I finally brought my tent into the right side of the barrier, after a couple more people warned me I was on state property and that the police might come by). We are waiting and resting here for good reasons, but they are making us feel like bums. Joker made the joke, “Doya like cottage cheese?” I said, “not really,” he pointed at them and said, “well if you want some… hahaha”. Hobo, Joker and I are all eager to get back on the trail but the library doesn't open until tomorrow. It was shut today due to it being independence day yesterday.

I also went to the, “Shoe repair store that also repairs gear,” as it is marked on the map in the guide. I turned up just as the owner was arriving in his car a good twenty minutes or so after the 10am opening time. I told him I had a rip in my bag. He said he wasn't really open but he'd help me out. He said he wasn't a hiker but he was “sort of famous on the trail” and took the trail name The Singing Cobbler. When I told him I didn't know what a cobbler was, he said it is someone who repairs shoes and things. He opened up his store and walked in carrying his guitar. He asked me to give him a minute.

I put down my empty pack and look around. This is a very interesting little store. There are beautiful paintings on the walls, some framed some not, of the local area. They are by different artists and some have price labels on, one little one is for $150. Very reasonable, given its quality and that it is the original version. They are all originals. I take a minute to appreciate them. I head further into the shop, there are other little curiosities all over the place. Leather straps, bits and bobs, oils for something, some posters. After a few minutes he emerges, “ok show me watcha gat.” He is a very short man, late 50s, balding with brown hair still above his ears. He has twinkly little blue eyes and is full of energy. I consider for a moment that he may be gay. His accent doesn't sound especially southern or all that strong at all. I show him the rip. “Hmmmmmmmmmm,” he says. “That's the first time I've seen that happen. It would normally have come off there. How'd it happen?”

“I didn't see it happen, or hear it I just noticed it. It might have been that there wasn't quite space in the tent and it got pressed up against the side,” I gesture and show a possible explanation. He says he doesn't think it will affect anything anyway, and he can't repair it because the place he would have to sow though is too thick and the stitches would rub on my hip and wear away very quickly. We have a quick minute of me saying, “oh ok, thanks” and him repeating that it doesn't really need fixing, and him asking if it has a warranty, but I don't know, it's my Dad’s, and that he can't fix it etc. He asks me about my hike and how old I am. I say that I am 21. He says he has a daughter who is 21 (not gay then) and that the big A1 size poster is of her.

“She took that in Edinboro,” he mispronounces the city Edinburgh. He tells me he she did a whole tour of the UK. She has short ginger hair and above her head is a big picture of the SPAM meat. She is outdoors somewhere. It looks arty, and she looks interesting and pretty. Apparently she lives 15 minutes away and helps at the store on Wednesdays. Before I leave he offers me a card, “It's not heavy,” he says. “That's the Webiste there. She made the Website.” I consider saying how I also make websites… I would quite like to meet her, but I don't bother. Never going to happen. I thank him and leave. Very nice man, interesting place.

I come back to the tents, shower in the YMCA, and resupply at Krogers supermarket. I will be doing 120 mile stint to Daleville without any resupply points, so I need lots of food. I have put together my own trail mix to save money. My week of food cost $71. My trail mix is a massive 3kg mixture consisting of 400g salted almonds, 400g honey roasted almonds, 800g salted cashews, 800g salted peanuts, 300g raisins, 300g dried cranberries and 1000g of chocolate MnMs. I mix it all together inside a triple layer of carrier bags. It is A LOT, and it tastes great. It is about the size of a newborn baby. I also have 7 packs of pitta breads, each containing 5 pittas, enough for 1 pack a day and 24 cheaper version energy bars, enough for 3 or so a day and a tub of Nutella. That is a lot of weight. My bag feels about as heavy as it would with normal food and 4 litres of water without it having any water at all, but doing a whole 120 miles completely self-sufficient will feel like a great achievement and the bag will get lighter every day and I have had plenty of rest. My left ankle is still a bit swollen but its getting better and my knees feel better. I don't think I'm getting any poles after all… but I MUST remember to get some more water purification tables at Outfitters on the way back to the trail tomorrow or I am stuffed. I will go on the Internet in the library tomorrow morning and look up volunteering for the oil spill options. I definitely want to do some more trail though. Perhaps a week or 10 days would be a good amount to spend volunteering to help clean up the animals and beaches there, provided I can camp for free, even if it cuts my hike a little short.

Hobo had his wallet with $200 and his cards stolen by some real hobos on the trail. I have to be careful.

Hitch hiker doesn’t seem to know what to do with himself. When Nut Hatch asked if he was a hiker he laughed and said, “Weel, I'm kina a permanent hiker heh heh. I'm owf the grid.” I say, “the truth is out” and he laughs. This is between some fireworks. He says he lived 8 years without any electricity. He hates the heat and finally tested out the river for us. “Weel, ma skins nowt fallin off,” he says. I saw a turtle in the river so it can't be that bad. He just walks around, lies down on the grass, comes over for a chat. He says he's not sure what to do, “but gotta do somethin.” We also talked about the metric system. Joker, who usually is making jesting bashes at England says that the Metric system is, “the one thing Americans are stubborn about”. I say, “Oh, the ONE thing ey.” The others laugh. After a bit of chat about how much nonsense their system is I realize that in England we use both. MPH in our cars and Pints for beer, but we often measure things in centimeters, millimeters and kilometers. I suggest that if the whole world adopted the metric system, that alone would fix all the problems (that we had been discussing). A few laughs. Trail tomorrow!

More talking in the warm YMCA outdoors on a bench, Hitch Hiker is a truly fascinating character. When I tell him of my trail mix he says, “You're gonna end up lookin like that trail mix by the end heh.” Hobo and I are carving sticks. Hitch Hiker says that he lost his stick while, “taking a shit in the woods.” He spent an hour looking for it. I found this image very amusing and had to look away so he didn't see my grin. He says he has hitch hiked “everywhere.”

I say, “the only hitch, is that what you call it?” Hobo nods, “that I've had is from the trail into Front Royal.” Hitch Hicker says with a thick deep voice, full of pain,

“Arrg, ah I don't like Front Royal.” He always talks slowly and meaningfully. He says some teens threw a beer can at him and cops kept harassing him and he went to the Salvation army and other charity places to try to get food, but he couldn't even get a cup of noodles. 21. As I lay stuck to my ground mat that night I considered that Washington has gone presumably from the name of a place, to the name of a person (George Washington) to the name of a place again, interesting. I wonder how many other cities and towns are named after a person who’s name came from another city.

22. The situation has taken a major turn for the worse. My hike is in jeopardy. I bought Aquamira at the Outfitters for water purification as my tablets from home were about to run out. I read the instructions. The two chemicals needed mixing and before being added to the water. The two chemicals are Chlorine Dioxide (part 1) and Phosphoric Acid activator (part 2). I try squeezing part 1. I need to mix 7 drops from each for 1 liter of water then let it sit for 15 minutes while mixed in with the water, that's twice as fast as my tablets. Neat. But the droplets won’t squeeze out. I am already very dehydrated from making a foolish decision at the last shelter to not fill up on more water, thinking that about 1200ml would be enough for 4 miles, which it would be if my pack didn't contain 7 days of food, the gradient wasn't all uphill (which it was) and if it wasn't during the hottest part of the day on a heat wave. So, I made it to Bear Springs with great relief, despite it being only a trickle from a pipe, but I can't get the droplets out of Part 1. The instructions don’t say anything about how to get it out. It won’t come out the nozzle. I have a look at Part 2, which looks the same. I give it a squeeze. That one comes out fine, but Part 1 wont. My patience is tested, and it is especially thin at this point. I am very thirsty, and quite hungry and I know my Nutella and pitta bread will make me very thirsty too so I can't eat or drink until I can squeeze these drops out of Part 1. I rest it on up on my knee. Not a wise place. I squeeze. I try squeezing the oblong container diagonally as if to squeeze in the corners. Still nothing. I am sure you are meant to just squeeze it because that worked with the other part, and the container is the same. I put my whole hand around it and squeeze very hard.

SPLASH! It explodes all over my face! My eyes are shut before I know it, by instinct. I'm not sure if any went in. I fumble with my eyes shut for my shorts to wipe my face that are attached to the outside of my bag. I am rather worried. I manage to unclip the straps of my pack with my eyes shut and get the shorts and give my face and bare legs a wipe. I cautiously open my eyes. I can still see. I am not blind. But I think I feel a very slight tingling in them, some of the mixture must have gone in. I keep them shut as much as possible, while trying to read the instructions that say what to do if the mixture goes in your eyes. I am alone in very empty woods that are no longer national park. I am in designated Wilderness. The most empty type of woods. I use my precious couple of hundred ML (one gulp) of drinking water to wash out my eyes as best I can, though it doesn't last for 15-20 minutes of washing like it should and I'm certainly not removing my contaminated clothing. My other clothes are deep in my pack somewhere. I read the more detailed parts of the instructions. It says Part 1 will moderately irritate the skin and eyes. Phew, I will not go blind and I have given them a wash, I should be ok. Thank goodness for that.

However, I now don't have anywhere near enough water purifiers to make it to Daleville, or even any of the towns in the right direction. I have 6 tablets from my old stock, enough for 6 litres (about a days water) and there is a tiny little bit of Part 1 Aquamira lift in the bottle. I curse repeatedly and think what to do. I have only passed one person on the 9 miles of trial I've done today. Hobo should probably be coming up behind me but I can't be certain that he left. The last I saw of him he was in the library waiting for an email to arrive. It's possible he won’t leave till tomorrow. I definitely can't keep going, as I may not come across anyone and I am already at the 'point of no return'. I.e. I have enough water purifier to get back to Waynesboro and that's about it. I do not want to go back to that town. I lingered there too long already. But I will have to go back the way I came for 9 miles, then get a lift to the outfitters and buy more purifier, and then get going again. This will cause a massive delay and will be tedious and annoying. I'll have to explain to the guy I passed at the shelter what happened, and then again at the outfitters and then what's even worse is I'll have to walk BACK AGAIN this way to get back to where I am! I don't know if I can put up with that sort of hassle. For now, I will wait around this spring and eat and drink some of my water and hope Hobo or someone arrives who I can buy purification tablets from. I am concerned this could see the end to my hike in Virginia.

I have taken a good look at the guide. The bigger resupply places are very far off but there are a couple of places I will probably be able to get tablets. I have easily enough to make it to Rusty's Hard Time Hollow and probably enough to make it to Crabtree Falls Campground, which has a short term resupply. That means taking a 4 mile (total 8mile including the walk back) detour, but that is much better than the alternative. I will continue forwards with an especially watchful eye on my water usage. Also that was $15 that popped all over my face… great.

I kept cutting it fine with water today, regardless of purification. For both refills I only just had enough to make it there. It's not really an underestimation, but more that I have such a heavy pack from the weeks worth of food that adding more water makes it almost unbearably heavy. Before the whole purification fiasco I dumped about 500g of my 'away-from-home-made trail mix'. I left it in a sealed bag in the middle of the trail and made two arrows using sticks pointing at it. Hopefully a hiker, maybe Hobo will find it. It could attract a bear but I had to dump it somewhere and scattering it out would eliminate a hiker from the list of animals that could eat it. That made the weight just about light enough for me to walk at a good pace and enjoy it. I have missed the trees and there were far fewer hikers today, now that I am out of Shenandoah, or the 'Shennies' as Hobo referred to them.

23. I am camped in a prohibited area, but it happens to be the most beautiful spot I have camped yet. I had planned from the start of the day to end up here (Cedar cliffs), but with the dramas of the day I didn't get here until about quarter past seven, which is when I saw the no camping signs. I made a rule after my dodgy first night of bearanoia to get camped and my tent set up by 7pm so as to avoid having to put up the bear bag in the dark. 7pm is quite a safe time though, it allows plenty of time to get everything done and I've become more efficient, but I set up camp in this prohibited area anyway. I think I felt, while making the decision, before eating and re-hydrating, that I was somewhat entitled to break the rules just this once, after my unjust treatment from the Aquamira. At first when I sat down to eat dinner (pitta bread and peanut butter and nutella, trail mix, beef jerkey - same as every meal now) I could hear the sound of a motor bike making it’s way slowly and vaguely in my direction from behind. It is unlikely however that a local yokel from the valley bellow is watching this prohibited spot with a telescope and ranger on speed dial, and a ranger isn’t going to burst from the woods on a path made only for hikers on a heavy duty motor cycle. When hanging up my bear bag I saw there were fires and other spots where quite a few people had camped on the prohibited area, so I am pretty safe.

The view is comparable to the splendor of Blackrock summit. There is a wide flat valley in front and it fades into the haze. To the right are knobbly hills rising up into larger ones and on the left are mountains, like folds in a concertina fan. The sun is big and orange and is setting, swathing the entire scene in a pinky-purply flow and the air feels as warm as the sunset. It is silent, apart from the occasional barking of a dog from down in the valley where there are a few scatterings of buildings between the forest, and the buzzing of a mosquito. Absolutely beautiful. Today has been very intensive. I am fully alive. I look forward to the rest, in both senses of the word. This is just too beautiful.

24. Another very intensive but rewarding day. My water troubles are still not over. I hiked a total 20 miles today but only 15 trail miles… and I am 4 miles away from the AT. My refill from the night before was only just enough to get me to Maupin Field Shelter. I did the 6 miles there quickly and in the morning on only half a liter of water (all I had left). I thought the morning would be cooler and so left early from my prohibited spot at 6.45am, but it was actually extremely humid. It took an hour or so for the sun to burn off the humidity and it became slightly cooler like I had expected. I made it to the shelter with only 1 remaining water purification tablet, but I wanted to save it for an absolute emergency. This is only a 'moderate-to-big emergency'. It said in the guide that there was a piped spring behind the shelter. I hoped it would have a good flow. If it did I would dare risk drinking from it without purification. But… it was dried up. There was not a drop coming out of the pipe. Instead there was a slight ooze out from beneath a rock and there were bugs of all kinds swimming around in it (newts) and it was hard to get any without getting bits in it. Hmmmm.

I need that water immediately but I can't drink that without purification. I could wait for someone, but it will start getting very hot very soon. I have to make a decision.

I look on the guide several times. It doesn't make any sense. On the main page it says “Mau-Har trail to Rusty's Hard Time Hollow”. That trail is 3 miles long according to a sign, but the sign says nothing about Rusty's Hollow. But then the guide says it has more information about Rusty's. In this section it tells me to take a fireroad west 1.2 miles to the “BRP” (Still don't know what that actually means) then to turn left and walk 1.3 miles to Rusty's. Different instructions from the same guide. I get out my compass. I can see a fireroad, but it is oriented north-south! How can I go west? At the shelter there is a information board with a map. It doesn't show Rusty's but it does show the fireroad. I work out which way is West along the fireroad, but before setting off I take out my two big empty water bottles, my remaining 200ml (one gulp - I often end up keeping one last gulp) that is in a smaller bottle, and my last water purification tablet and the few droplets of the exploded mixture. I think about dumping my pack and then coming back for it. I am very thirsty and it is getting hotter and I have 3 miles to walk. I almost set off without it, but it just doesn't feel right leaving it behind. Someone could steal it… or more likely, a bear could find it. I'll be gone for a good few hours so I'd better not leave it. In the end I walk off down the fireroad, hoping it's the right way with my pack on and clutching the empty bottles in my hands. The fireroad goes on and on. I have a constant level of worry but it's flat and sometimes downhill and I seem to be walking ok and not feeling too dehydrated. Exactly at the time it should appear, it does. The road is there, so the directions must be right. I walk down the road and reach Rusty's Hard Time Hollow. A big chunk of worry evaporates. The drive is covered in signs. Some are rather amusing, while others are informative. There is one that says no reporters or magazine writers are to say anything about Rusty's without his written permission. I'm not either of those (right now…), but I don't want to give the game away. But I will say that there is a phone stuck halfway up a tree on the way down. Buildings with corrugated iron roofs emerge and a giant old red truck is coming towards me. I stand aside but it reverses. “Hello, A'm Rusty.”

“Hi!” I explain to Rusty about the exploding Aquamira and say water is really what I'm after. He asks me what my plan is, as he doesn't have any tablets or anything. I say if I can fill up on water I'll make it to Crabtree Falls Campground and buy tablets there. He gets out and shows takes me to his spring. He is a very kindly man. He asks me to stay,

“I wish you'd stay,” he says a fair few times. “You in a rush?” He is a man who takes things slow. When I say,

“I have to get to…” I sense him thinking its silly to have places you “have” to get to. I say I've just had a double zero in Waynesboro so I can't stay. (Plus it's not even midday… though I have walked 10 miles already). He accepts that and we chat as I drink a deliciously cool 2 liters from his spring that comes out a pipe in his shed and then I fill up 4 liters to take with me. He warns me saying,

“A dehydrated man is a dead man.” When I tell him about the bad spring at the shelter with the bugs he says that water with newts or “salamanders” is good to drink, because they wont live anywhere where there is the tiniest impurity… so I could have drunk it after all! He says I should make it to Damascus in the time I have, no problem. I say I'm hoping to get a bus up to New York and stay up there for a week at the end. This is my new plan. On Tuesday Morning in the Waynesboro library the Internet said there are lots of local volunteers for the oil spill who still haven't been needed yet, so they won’t want me. All I can do is sign up to an email list. Rusty tells me about 2 English hikers who came here. He is still good friends with one of them. The other jumped off the top of one of the twin towers before 9.11. He seemed to have no reason for it, they were in a band and he was, “a regular bloke”. He apparently climbed up on the in-ward curving fence at the top and was saying to the others he wasn't going to do anything, but then he jumped off.

Rusty has a big white beard, a red-speckled face and is completely warm hearted. He gets me to sign the visitor book and put my address like everyone does. 14,000 hikers have passed through Rusty's and he is the longest running Trail 'hostel' ever. There are no charges and he lives entirely from donations. He asks if I want a T-shirt. He says they are the most seen t-shirts all over the world and you can only get them if you come to the Hollow. You can't buy them anywhere else, so if anyone sees you wearing one then they'll know you've stayed at Rusty's. He says he's had a few English folk buy one. I hesitate, the sign says they are $18, but he is so nice and helpful and I would like a souvenir. Also they are made of a lighter material than my other clothes so it will be nicer to wear. I agree. Rusty gets me to write my trail name “Upright” with marker pens on a little board using lots of colours. He takes a photo. I say I would really like a copy of it. He says he will mail it to me. Not email… despite it's with a digital camera. He says he doesn't like the Internet. Some people made a mistake saying he was shut down on the Internet which meant he only got 60 hikers, which is a lot less than usual. He says his place has been for sale for 10 years. He doesn't want to leave particularly but if someone with lots of money comes along he will sell it, “don't mean nothin” he says. He offers to drive me back up to the trail. We drive off in his massive red truck. I am amazed it doesn't fall apart with all the bumps on his “driveway”. He says he needs to trim back the bushes, but they are full of poison ivy, “I hate that stuff, I really hate it,” he says. He drops me off and as I take my pack out he says, “If you won't be offended or nothin I'd like to give you a hug.”

“Sure,” I say. We hug briefly. He says that his mother died a few days ago and he has no siblings, so he makes the hikers his family. I nod solemnly and then say that that is really great (about the hikers as family) and as I leave he tells me to send down the nice hikers,

“I don't want no criminals, you're a good guy,” he says.

“I'll send down the good ones!” I say as I wave and leave. And I'm off, walking back up the fireroad. What a lovely man. I have gained some new energy from him and have 4 liters of water now. My pack is heavy, but I feel uplifted. I get back to the shelter and eat lunch. I improvise with my old-sweat sodden t-shirt to make a padding for my back. One of the straps on the lower left side has rubbed part of me raw. I weave the t-shirt over it and it works well. I still need to get to CrabTree Falls Campground and it is 4 miles off from the trail. I see on the information board at the Maupin Field shelter that Mau-Har trail is 3 miles and I could do that instead of the 5.8 mile stretch of the AT and ends up at the same place, cutting a corner. Given that I've already walked an extra 4.5 miles getting to and from Rusty’s and will have another 4 to the Crabtree Falls campsite and back (to buy purification tablets) I am happy to take a short cut.

I set off… but the Mau-Har trail is not as it seems. It is a terribly tough 3 miles and it is the hottest part of the day. It takes me an hour and 50 minutes to walk it, which is almost half pace. At first I enjoy it. I find it to be, “very Jurassic Park.” It is wild and narrow, there is a lot of clambering over rocks and up and downs and over dead trees and through the dense undergrowth. There are a great many bugs but there is also a well sized stream. I feel properly in the jungle. But it just keeps going and going. My progress is slow. It stops being fun when I have to start sitting down to cool off every 5 minutes to stop my head throbbing and it takes a good 10 minutes or so of sitting to notice any decrease at all in temperature. I am sitting down in a hot place to try and cool down. Not much else I can do. After an hour and a half I have minor concerns that this isn't even the right trail, but it must be and I had been going slowly and taking lots of breaks. The Mau-Har trail is merciless. The AT would never have a stretch like this without a warning. However, the stretch of the AT I am missing does involve climbing a small mountain, so I can't be sure how it compares, but it is considerably harder than any of the AT so far. I feel like a Native American. The AT is the silly white man's trail. This is the real deal.

At long last the Mau-Har flattens out and becomes more AT-ish (better kept, slightly wider, less rocky and without the steep drop-off to the side, which I nearly stumbled over, several times). I would have really struggled without my stick in terms of balance and knees, with all the big stepping down and stepping up onto and off of rocks and big green leaves and bugs flapping around in my sweat-dripping face. The flatter part lasts over half a mile. I am surprised at how much there is left, but at long last, after almost 2 hours I complete the 3 mile death-stint. I am back on the AT with only 1.7 miles to the road where the Campground is 4 miles down. I remove my pack and sit and stand around at the Mau-Har-AT junction for a good 20 minutes to cool off. The throbbing of my head ceases.

I continue to the road and I manage to hitch a ride. The guy who picks me up is a complete and utter nutter. He is a caricature of the southern country hick. I didn't think people like him actually existed. He pulls up in an old blue truck. He has a big box of beers out and there are empty cans lying around. He asks me to move the box of beers into the back with my bag. At first I think he means for me to go in the back too, but he laughs and says he wants the beer in the back, not me. We drive off, he offers me a beer. “Don't drink?”

“I'm just abstaining for my hike,”

“Ohh,” he says. He seemed to like that more than if I didn't drink, as it means I must have been quite a heavy drinker to want to abstain. We talk about the heat. He says:

“Usually when we see a hiker, we say, 'you wanna hike, hike, an drive on by,” he chuckles in a very strong southern accent. “Sometams we takes pity on ya, I see you an I finks, dayem, is hella hot,” (note, I don't really understand the words he's saying, but I get what he means. I'm quoting as best I can). He puts on the radio and opens another beer. He chucks the one he just drank out the window, veering into the middle of the road as we go round a bend to chuck it out.

“I've missed music,” I say. “I've been hiking 10 days and not heard anything.” This isn't actually true, I've been hiking for 15 days and have heard some music in a few places, but I want to keep my sentences simple for him. He laughs a drunken laugh and says,

“Yeeah, where'd you start?”

“Harpers Ferry.”

“Harpers Ferreh? Boi you got some miles on ya yeeh boi, Harpers Ferry mayn I,” he continues talking. I can't decipher his accent but I can detect when I'm meant to laugh, so I manage a:

“Heh, yeah” a couple of times in the right place, I think, when he turns and says

“yew know”. He says an entire speech and I don't understand a word of it.

“Blabolbloonel yabadabble wanna hobble dooble do?”

“Heh, yeah.” I bring the conversation back to the weather. There are some cars with hikers getting out of them parked up on the left. He shouts something at them. I look in the passenger mirror, so as not to show him my expression of bafflement. He says with excitement, oblivious to my lack of encouragement:

“They probly thinkam crazay, cos I am, YEEEEE HAWWWW! heheh!” I stay quiet. Then after a few moments,

“I thought we'd be there by now. I should've only been 4 miles from where I was.” But it's ok, we see the sign, we are there. We pull into Crabtree Falls Campground and a young brown haired woman there says she is just leaving. She asks accusingly to the hick,

“Can I heelp yew?”

“Ah was just droppin off his here fella,” he says. “He's a hitch-a-hikin.” I say hi to her and we have a conversation about how I need water purification tablets speaking loudly over the back of his truck. She says there are none in the store and asks if I want to stay for the night. I say, “that costs $22 doesn't it?” (the price it says in the guide). She says, “it costs $24, but that's fine.” I thank the hick and he reverses and drives off. The woman lets me into the store, she had locked it up to leave. I say that Rusty (somehow she doesn't know who that is) said that Montebello, a nearby town, doesn't have water purification gear but that here would. She tries phoning the camping store at Montebello but the their phone is busy. She says her parents are going shopping for the camp store tomorrow and she can phone them up and ask them to try and find something for water purification. I thank her, and leave to set up my tent, and shower. Hopefully tomorrow I will wake up and be able to get something for water purification, or I do not know how I will proceed. The price of this is adding up now. I paid Rusty $20, then it’s $22 to camp here, and that doesn't include the cost of the new purification, and the one that burst was $15. An expensive mistake. Still, I got to meet Rusty and have a nice night at this campground.

In the shower I notice I have regained the perfect body (if I may say so), apart from that I am covered in bites and my legs are covered in scratches too. Just on my left shoulder now I can count 10 little red dots. I must have something like 40 bites in total, but they are not that annoying. Both my eyes are also slightly fuzzy. At first it was just the left, but the right one now has slightly unfocused vision too. It's from the chemicals that burst in my face which are moderate skin and eye irritants. I washed them out properly in the shower. When I was sweating today my eyes would sting as more of the chemical trickled into them. I think they will be ok. I'm not sure when, but I have a memory of having something toxic in my eyes that made them a bit fuzzy. In a few days they should be fully healed. I hope. I can still see well enough to type this and read Paul of Dune anyway. It's like when you just wake up and have to blink a few times to get your vision, only like that all the time. I have made friends with the campground cat, though he/she doesn't seem to like me stroking her that much, but now a second darker one has turned up and is very friendly. It's getting dark. Time to hit the ground mat. I have charged up my phone at the campsite. Along the Mau-Har trail I was very aware I had no battery to call 911. Not that I have ever had any signal to call anyway. My new t-shirt from Rusty's already stinks and has brown patches from sweat.

25. Good news and bad news. The campground woman's parents have bought tablets (and a water filter), but they can't bring them here till tomorrow morning at about 10am. I'll have to stay another night, brining up the cost of this stay here including tax to just over $50. I played 'soccer ball' with the woman’s kid while she talked on the phone to her parents. Her son calls one of them “Nini”, because she had so many problems with her knee that he came to call her that. Looks like another unplanned “0” day. I'll just read Paul of Dune and maybe take a stroll down to the waterfalls that this campground is named after.

I have just noticed a rather worrying bite on my leg. I am not sure if it is from a tick. It is on my left thigh. Back in Waynesboro Hobo reminded me that Lyme disease needs to be worried about if there is a circular ring rash around the bite. There is a sort of vaguely circular rashy thing around it but it’s quite patchy and not itchy and I don't know the symptoms of Limes disease. I feel fine… but it does look like it could be Lyme disease. If I were at a shelter with other hikers I'd show it to them and ask, but the other people here are in cabins or campervans. I'll leave it for a while and if it gets worse I can ring the bell for the woman to open the shop again and they might have a book with information on it, or a computer with Internet that I can look it up on. I think I feel fine. It is hard to tell after sleeping in a tent, you are a bit groggy and I’ve been reading my book all morning so my eyes are slightly strained and my diet has been very repetitive. I am not sure. I squeezed the bite and a little drop of blood came out and I wiped it with antibacterial wipes. Don't know if that will have done anything.

I have decided my leg is fine. I went for a pleasant walk along the rocks up Crabtree River and the rash went away. I feel fine. The man in the first cabin that is near my tent has been playing the guitar beautifully while I read. It will be a nice day off, even if I do end up eating lots of my food… An incredibly loud motor cycle just went past on the road, louder than a plane flying low over head. A camper shouts “Yee Haw!” Once it has faded. I am definitely in southern USA.

I have read 300 pages of Paul of Dune today, a reading record. I never knew I could read so much but apparently my mind works without caffeine now that I am not addicted. Small victories. Bed.

26. My life has been worth living after all. I am in utter isolation, complete solitude. It is just me and life all around. Me and “God”. The father of the woman from the store arrived this morning with water purification tablets. I bought them and some food to make up for what I'd eaten that day and he offered to drive me back to the trail. He drove me a little way extra up to the car park below Spy Rock. This helped make up for my missed miles. I have skipped climbing The Priest, which he says is the toughest southbound section around, but the detours still mean I have covered the same miles, in fact it is still a mile or two extra despite the car drop off.

The man who dropped me off knows Rusty. He says Rusty was closed for a couple of years because of the bad attitude of the hikers. He says around the years 2005/2006 hikers had a sense of entitlement expecting him to put them up for days without charge and drive them back to their cars which were an hour away and they had only been hiking a couple of days. There were day-hikers calling themselves thru-hikers (hikers who hike the whole trail in one go) and making demands, but the man driving me and Rusty do it because they want to help real hikers. It seems he experienced the bad attitude as much as Rusty. I don't know what caused it.

I am in George Washington National Forest. I overtook a whole bunch of teens climbing up Spy Rock without packs. There was an oriental looking one who made it to the top long before the others. He asked where I was going. I replied, “Damascus, about 400 