06/21

I knew today would be a long day, 17.5 miles to be exact, but I had no clue we’d end up backtracking 30 miles to a hotel. Started off in the blistering heat. Sun beating down on us as, you guessed it, we climbed up another mountain. Bright and early. This time we were prepared with bug nets draped over our hats. There have been multiple occasions where we’ll be having a conversation, walking along the trail, when mid-sentence I’m interrupted by a bug flying straight to the back of my throat. Speech turned to hacking in a second. Needless to say, bug nets are undoubtedly the best piece of gear we’ve acquired thus far. Eventually we made our way to the Blue Ridge Parkway, a scenic byway that happened to be closed to traffic for construction. This gave us about 5 miles of uninterrupted road walking views. Our feet greatly appreciated a break from the rocks and roots, but the pavement only made the heat that much more intolerable. We decided to take a mid-day break around 2, trying to wait out the worst of the sun’s rays. Sitting in the stale, humid air, we had lunch, warm chicken salad on tortillas, and huddled under what little shade we could find. Water has been scarce around these parts and we’ve found a lot of the springs had run dry. Staying hydrated was proving to be a challenge, but one we had to be mindful of. Hiking in 97° weather with 100% humidity is a one-way ticket to the hospital if you’re not careful. We set out for Jennings Creek around 4:00. The sun was still blazing but we had to get moving if we were to complete the remaining miles before dark. We could have stopped sooner, but many of the shelters and campsites had warnings on FarOut, cautioning hikers to recent cases of Noro virus… A stomach bug that causes uncontrollable vomiting and diarrhea. There came a point in the day where I felt so fatigued, I told Nick I couldn’t go any further. Maybe it was the heat or lack of water but for the first time on the trail, I was completely tapped out. My tank was empty. Nick offered to give me the remainder of his water so that I could stop and set up camp alone while he kept going another 2.5 miles to the creek. Every bone in my body wanted to stop, but I felt like something was off. My gut was telling me to stick together, so that’s what we did. I dragged myself down the mountain all the way past the popular swimming hole. I was so tired, I set up my tent and didn’t bother eating anything before collapsing into bed. I was watching the fireflies dance around me, gently dozing off, when all of a sudden Nick walks up behind me pale as a ghost, “I don’t feel good”… uh oh. He said he felt nauseous. I told him to sit down and that I’d handle cleaning up his pot of half-eaten ramen. I walked down to the creek to get more water and when I returned he was gone. Knowing he couldn’t have gone far, I found him puking over a log. I ran back to my tent to get my phone, frantically searching for some way out of the woods. Luckily for us we weren’t far from the road. However, there was hardly any service. I held my device to the sky and used the half bar I had to call a local shuttle. Thankfully she answered at 8:30 p.m. but I could barely make out what she was saying. She sounded like a Martian crackling over the speaker phone. I repeated where we were and said we needed a ride into town TONIGHT (best to be with indoor plumbing at a time like this). I must have said this a dozen times before the call dropped. All I could do at this point was hope help was on the way. Packing our things I grabbed Nick and we sat on the side of the road waiting for what felt like an hour. I strapped my headlamp to Nick’s head and told him that if he needed to puke he could run to the woods and do it. I didn’t want the driver to see him and decline to take us. The stars were bright and the creek roared over the rocks. If it weren’t for Noro, it’d been a beautiful night. Finally headlights came shining around the bend. I grabbed our things and stood in the road flagging them down. We got in, and I made it my mission to keep the driver talking to me so that Nick wouldn’t have to open his mouth and risk getting sick all over the nice lady’s car. We chatted about everything under the sun and I even convinced her that a life settlement may be the best option for her mother’s GUL policy. Upon reaching the Spark Hotel in Daleville, I jumped out the car and said, “I’d offer you my card, but I quit my job to do this. Have a good night! Thank you!” All the while, Nick was at the nearest shrub, hurled over in agony. I checked us in and got him situated before getting in the shower. 10:30 p.m… After 17 miles, excruciating heat, spectacular mountain views, and a surprise case of Noro, I was ready for bed. I turned the AC down to 60° and once again collapsed into bed.