Trail Magic from the local firefighters
The Bland Volunteer Fire Department posed with us at the Laural Creek / VA 615 junction. Then they yellow-blazed us up to the hotel in Bland. Now, THAT was some trail magic. I had never ridden in a fire truck before.
The five of us rented a room (#18) at the Big Walker Motel, perched up on a hillside overlooking I-77. We cleaned up and went across the street for dinner. Later that night came a knock at the door. It was a county deputy.
I don't think the deputy had ever met thru hikers before. It must have been a bit weird. Three boys and two girls sharing a hotel room. And when hikers rent a room, we have a penchant for cleaning all of our gear and draping it over every surface and bit of furnishing to let it dry or air out. A hiker 'chinese laundry' pack explosion. We cleared off a chair and invited him in.
He was there to take our 'statements about the fire'. Uh, oh, I think someone thinks we set it. He seemed confused by the basics: No one had the same name. No one was from the same town (or State). No one was married. He asked what happened at the creek. We told him our tale. He asked if we had seen anyone else on trail -- we did, other thru hikers and the dayhikers along the trail. Nothing else we could offer. He asked where we were from. We all answered 'Springer Mtn., Georgia'. I don't think he believed us. He asked where we were heading. We kind of looked at each other, 'walking to Maine'. I don't think he believed that, either. But eventually he bid us goodnight and left. Poor deputy. You could kind of see it in his eyes: 'Why do I always get stuck with this kind of paperwork?'