Spiderwort after Thunderstorm
Otties ghost didn't materialize at Punchbowl, yet I didn't sleep very well... no connection. Just not as comfortable in shelters in the summer. People move around a lot, and the tent offers protection from the black flies even a couple cloves of garlic didn't seem to dissuade. You know, it never dawned on me before, but I've been this long in Virginia, nearly me entire life, and this is the first extended look-see I've ever taken of my own state. Until now, I knew more about Colorado's hiking than Virginia's.
We keep track of our adventures in various ways. Along with many others, I still carry the ATC databook -- that listing of miles and sites/features relating to the guide books. We measure our trip by this book, with important milestones being the turning of a page in the book, signifying our advance down (up) the trail. Now on p44, atop Cold Mountain. Cold Mtn. is a bald - with a beautiful view both E and W. But the day began at the shelter. Worked out that I was last out of camp. So at 8:15, I trotted around the pond, past the box turtle and hognose snake hunting toads, and took that 'Nat'l Geographic' photo of the shelter. Then off to skip across the parkway yet again and up to the fire road (Va 607).
The mountain laural was stunning, as if I were in an arboreum, well-tended for its showy plants. These things were hundreds of yards of perfect plants, gently crowding the path about a yard wide. Really something - sort of alike the rhododendron along Floyd Mtn and Blackrock a few days back. Sheer beauty. Then came the ascents. Up Rice Mtn to soak the skin with sweat. Wow, I've never sweated so much in my life - and the last shower was Troutville/Cloverdale 6/2. Then down to the bridge crossing Little Irish Creek and up to Pedler Dam, the reservoir for Lynchburg.