Thursday, June 18th:
Well, we made it through the night at Thomas Knob...barely. And some better than others. I'm not really sure if I actually got any sleep or not. But we were up and moving by 7:00 a.m., sore and stiff with yet another long day looming in front of us.
The weather had cleared somewhat, but the ground was still very wet. Thus, the prospect of a long day in soggy hiking conditions was unavoidable. Though we had already survived many adverse conditions, it was evident that the experience was beginning to really take a toll on all of us. In fact, both Josh and Jeff O. decided to that they were going to get off the trail at the next place it intersected a road (a little over 4 miles down the trail). Josh had developed a severe rash on both of his ankles which was worsening by the day, and Jeff O. had two festering sores on each hip (from his pack) which were about the size of baseballs. He was in a lot of pain.
For me, I knew that I was going to be slow moving all day. Being somewhat horizontal throughout the night was helpful, but my blisters and other injuries were ever-present. So, aside from stuffing a quick breakfast bar in my mouth and packing my gear, I spent considerable time bandaging up my feet. I then wrapped each foot up in a plastic grocery sack with the feeble hope that they might stay somewhat dry throughout the day. (It proved to be more psychologically helpful than actually helpful. :)
Given the changing logistics dictated by our circumstances, we had a decision to make. Originally, we were scheduled to be camping tonight near a spring at a place called Buzzard Rock (about 7.4 miles from Thomas Knob). That would then leave approximately 6.6 miles remaining to our final destination, which we were originally planning to conclude tomorrow (Friday). The other alternative was to hike past Buzzard Rock to the Lost Mountain shelter (about 8.5 miles from Thomas Knob), which would only leave about 2 miles for that last day.
Or...we could just deadhead it the entire 14 miles and finish our hiking marathon a day early. Needless to say, given our present condition and the very real prospect of actually being able to take a shower and sleep in a real bed at the Days Inn in Abingdon, it wasn't a hard sell for the group. From my perspective, even if I ended up hiking on the stumps of what used to be my feet, I was going to make it all the way to that hotel. I had come way too far and overcome too many hurdles to quit now. (Some might call it "tenaciousness", others would say, "stupidity". Take your pick. :) Regardless, I was going to finish even if I had to be carried across the final bridge on a gurney.
We ended up leaving in about 3 groups, similar to the day we left Jerry's Kitchen in Troutdale, with the slower hikers up front and the faster hikers coming behind (or in my case, this wounded walker bringing up the rear). As soon as each group of guys was ready to go, we each said a brief prayer for protection and got started. We took no time for devotions or even breakfast and were gone by 7:30 a.m., leaving the Boy Scout troop to expand their mini-empire at the Thomas Knob Shelter.
The hike was about what I expected it would be...a lot pain, and then some more pain. As with much of this 60+ mile section of the trail, the path was covered with rocks and roots, making me grimace with each step. But visions of the hotel (and the chance to call Jean and the kids that night) pushed me onward.
It wasn't long before I came upon Jeff S., who had stopped to pray with Jeff O. Jeff O. was continuing to struggle, but valiantly kept pressing forward.
Finally, Jeff S. and I met up with the rest of the group at a place called Elk Gardens. As we were hiking down over the grassy mountainside, fog had settled in. This created a very weird sensation. On the one hand, we had to move slowly in order to find the white blazes, but beyond that, we could hear the voices of the other guys clearly in front of us. But we couldn't see them until we were about 40 feet from them.
When we arrived, we found out that Josh had already hitched a ride into the nearby town of Damascus, VA. We knew Jeff O. was going to be heading into town with the Boy Scout troop once they arrived at Elk Gardens, so we left him a note to tell him we were going on ahead and that we would come get the two of them once we got to the Kingsway vehicle.
Coming out of Elk Gardens, we encountered a very steep climb as we made our way to Buzzard Rock. Again, the fog was thick, and as I hiked up to Buzzard Rock to join the rest of the group for lunch there was a large group of young people up there having lunch as well. Like the experience at Elk Gardens I could hear their voices but didn't see them until I was right on top of them. It was very strange sensation to see their shapeless forms rise from within the mist like apparitions on the mountainside. The wind was buffeting the rocks, so we cowered down in the crevices and managed to share what food we had left with eachother. And then it was back on the trail for me (lest I rest too long and my legs begin to lock up).
The next rendezvous point was the Lost Mountain shelter. And I must say that the distance to the shelter seemed to be about the longest 4.8 miles I've ever hiked (second only to the 5.1 miles up over the Grayson Highlands yesterday of course). Though I had started out first from the lunch spot, I was the second-to-the-last guy there. But we had a nice little break to catch our breath before the final push to the finish line.
As we were getting geared up to hit the trail again, Jeff S. left first. And I wasn't far behind, especially given the fact that my late arrival to the shelter gave me hardly enough to time to actually take my pack off. I had determined somewhere throughout the day that I wasn't going to be the last guy done, despite the deteriorating condition of my feet.
As I started out from Lost Mountain, I realized that I could achieve one of the other underlying goals that I had silently set for myself on this trip--namely, being one of the first ones to finish. This goal was not intended to be a back-patting effort to best the other guys. But rather, I have always felt that good leaders lead from the front and not from the rear (as the famous Navy Seal, Richard Marcinko, points out in his Rogue Warrior books). And I was bound and determined to be able to be at the end in order to welcome each of the guys to the finish line (which in our case was the 540-foot Luther Hassinger Memorial Bridge that spanned Whitetop Laurel Creek) instead of having them wait for me at the end. I knew that the guys behind me were in better physical condition than I was at that point, and they would eventually overtake me. Unless I was able to maintain a fast enough pace to compensate for the blisters, sprains, and all-around pain in my lower extremities. The goal of being out in front pushed me onward.
And so I ran... virtually the entire distance to the bridge (which turned out to be more of a hobbling jog over the final 2 miles). I assumed as I hurriedly made my way down the trail that I would eventually overtake Jeff S., only to discover that he too had independently decided to run that final distance to the bridge. And so as I ran along the raging creek, I got to the bridge about a minute after Jeff to find him making his way across. I called to him and we cheered at the recognition that we had finally made it. We then decided to walk back across the bridge to the trailhead and wait for each guy as he came in. Once our valiant group was assembled, we had a passerby take a picture of us, and then we all headed across the bridge together in a stride of solidarity. It was a great feeling!
We finally made it to the Kingsway vehicle and were never more happy to sit down inside (hoping all the time as we saw it in the distance that it wasn't a mirage playing some kind of cruel joke on us :). Then we drove into Damascus to see if we could find Josh and Jeff O. We weren't even sure whether either of them had made it into town or where we might find them. But after prayer and some naviguessing, we found them sitting on the porch of the Hiker's Inn with none other than our old friend Tom from Maryland (He told us that he had actually called back to Maryland and talked to his pastor. He told his pastor about us and the wonderful meal of steak we had on Saturday night :). We were glad to see them (and him). We picked them up, said goodbye to Tom, and made our way back to the Days Inn in Abingdon.
It was a welcome site! We split up into two rooms, and just as we were getting settled in, we noticed members of the other hiking groups starting to trickle in as well. It seems that everyone else essentially had the same idea of pushing hard to get done a day early. And given the weather conditions, it was understandable.
So, one hot shower and a set of clean clothes later, I was feeling like an almost-new man. I gave Jean a quick call to let her know I was back in civilization in one tenderized piece. And then we headed off to dinner, where Mike Jordan graciously treated us all to a hearty dinner. It tasted amazing after a long day of hiking, and a good time was had by all.
We wrapped up the day with the evening devotional time in which I led us in a brief discussion about "Integrity". And then it was off to bed. There is much more I want to share about those final devotional conversations, but I will leave that for tomorrow. Since we're off the trail a day early, we're heading back into Damascus tomorrow to browse around, and then tomorrow night is the end-of-the-week steak dinner with the entire group. Should be a great day. I know, as I lie here in this bed, that it will be. I mean who knew I'd be sleeping in a hotel tonight, right? We're a long way from Thomas Knob. Incredible! :) 
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