Well, it started just like any other day I suppose. We woke up, ate breakfast, then started our short 4 mile hike down to Dicks Gap where we were to be picked up and brought into town by a man who ran a shuttle service. This way we wouldn't have to deal with people worrying about us hitch-hiking. We got into town and shopped, shipped unnecessary weight off, then strolled over to the local library. I hopped on facebook to update my status and check in with friends.
I need to hold off on that story for a second and address this issue. This blog was origionaly tittled, "So Then, We Walked". Why is it now "life as we know it"? This isn't about or outlook on life, there isn't some apocolypse happening, this isn't life as we know it, it's not a blog about life, it's about a hike from Georgia to Virginia, life for everyone else isn't changing, and our lives aren't either. Life as we know it is a dumb name for a blog about hiking. This isn't about life as you guys know it, you guys know life.
Well I got on facebook and had a discussion with my friend about the stories I'll have to tell once I return. I thought about it for a second and realized, well, nothing exciting or epic has happend. All we've done is hiked over a dozen hills, no one has been injured, although one guy did die on Blood Mountain, but we didn't know him, and how could I make that an epic story? "There we were, hiking up BLOOD MOUNTAIN and a guy just DIED!". Because that's epic. This hiking isn't very tough, well, physically it isn't tough. Mentally it's a nightmare, everyday feels like an on going week, days last forever, but nights are never long enough.
We road back into Dicks Gap, finished our chocolate glazed gifts from heaven, and took off for Plum Orchard Shelter. It was the single nicest shelter we have been to yet, it had 3 levels, the bottom was full sized and the top 2 were half sized. The plan was for me to be alone on the top level and Petra to be beneth me on the second level, but the wind was blowing in hard so I let Petra up on the top level with me. I made a fire while Petra planned the next few days. We started diner as the sun was setting and when we were finished, the sun was gone and our head lamps on. We put all the food into a large Hefty trash bag, planning to hang it up in the bear cables that were 100ft off into the woods. Diner time finished up, dishs were clean and food was stored. Petra proposed the idea that I was to run out with the food bag and hang it up on the cables, I had done it the past night and asked that since I was already in flip flops and warm that she could take care of it this night. Neither of us wanted to run out into the woods with no source of light or warmth, so we agreed that, because we had had no need to use the cables prior to this night that, we would hang it up on what looked like a metal coat rack not 10 feet from the shelter.
The bag was hung, and we fell fast asleep. "ding, ding ding". Now usually I am oblivious to the sounds outside my sleeping bag, I keep my hat over my ears and eyes along with my hood, the sleeping bag, and my Buff. Few noises can penetrate my serenity inside my cozy Halo bag. This sound happened to be one of them, the sound of something scraping, and banging a metal coat rack. I thought, "It's ok, it's just the wind blowing the food bag against the pool", but wind makes a sound when it blows, this did not. The sounds of foot steps caught my ear as they trotted about through the waste land of dead leaves. The sound grew closer and closer until the noise changed to the pitter patter of paws on rock. "It's just a small wolf" I told myself over and over again, "He's too short to reach the bag, besdies, I haven't heard anything loud hit the ground". Pitter patter, from stone to hard wood, wood that felt like it had been petrified, the same hard wood that our picnic table was made from, the same picnic table that was closer than a foot from the first level of the shelter. From hard wood to soft wood, soft wood is what the first level was made from. "Small fox, small fox" I repeated until they were the only words I knew. It was close, the sound of heavy breathing became all I heard. "Take a look Nate, come on, prove that it's just a small harmless fox". Uncovering the hat from my eyes and loosing the pull strings of my sleeping bag, I peeped my shaky head through the banaster to catch a glimpse of the fox.
Foxes are red, his fur was dark, dark enough that light couldn't reflect off it. All I saw were his eyes, eyes lit up by only moonlight, but fogged up by his breath. It wasn't a fox, no, it was much to large. I slid back away from the banaster, the moment our eyes lost connection I bundeled up in a ball, pulling my sleeping bag strings so tight that air wouldn't make it through. Minutes turned into a half hour before he left our shelter, but he didn't leave completely until he had tried and tried again to get at the food bag. Finnally he was gone. I didn't dare wake Petra up, especially after what had happened with mice the night before. The night kept in suspense as the howels of coyotes out sounded the wind.
-SleepyHead
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