(Campsite after Damascus (mile 472.2) - Whitetop Mountain Campsite (mile 492.7))

I woke up this morning at about 8am. After crawling out of my tent, I told Delta I was considering hiking about 17 miles to a tentsite just before the big climb to the Mount Rogers ridge. I ate breakfast and did stretches in camp. While I was stretching, Delta hit the trail and I followed a bit later.

I caught up to Delta after 3 miles or so. We hiked together and ended up stopping for lunch at Saunders Shelter. The shelter was located about a quarter mile off trail and excitingly featured the first privy since Overmountain Shelter (the barn)! To celebrate, I took advantage of the facilities. Privies on the AT tend to be covered in scribblings and tags. Considering all the time thru-hiking provides for deep introspection, you might expect a privy’s plywood walls to serve as a canvas on which thru-hikers scrawl their most profound musings. You’d be wrong. I laughed to myself as I considered the juvenile absurdity of it all.

After lunch, Delta and I had a choice to make. We could back track down the side trail to rejoin the AT where we had left it, or we could take another side trail and effectively skip a half mile of the “official” AT. If we took the second side trail, we would still be hiking approximately the same distance as if we had never left the main trail. This may seem silly or insignificant, but among thru-hikers, this is a bit of a philosophical quandary. Some would argue that unless you’ve walked every inch of trail and seen every blaze, you haven’t really thru-hiked. Delta and I both disagreed with this argument. At the end of the day, the trail isn’t real. The “official” route changes every year. Thru-hikers in 1981 hiked a very different trail than the one we were hiking today in 2021. We decided not to back track and I certainly didn’t lose any sleep over it.

After 4 miles of really chill hiking, the AT merged with Virginia Creeper Trail. Delta explained that Virginia Creeper is a vining plant common to the region, which helped sway some of my discomfort regarding the trail’s name. The trail itself was lovely. It was converted from a rail route to a multi-use trail in 1987, and is now most popular as a bike path. The trail stretches about 35 miles from Abingdon, Virginia, through the Mount Rogers National Recreation Area, and terminates at the Virginia-North Carolina border. The AT followed the Virginia Creeper for about a mile. The trail was wide, flat, and well maintained. We passed over the massive Laurel Creek Bridge and then made a sharp left as the AT parted ways with the Virginia Creeper.

The AT merges with the Virginia Creeper Trail for a few miles. Despite its unnerving name, the Creeper Trail is a lovely (flat) bike path named after a vining plant common to the region

Delta and I passed many bikers while walking along the Creeper

The next 2 miles were dominated by gradual climbing. Delta and I took a quick break at Lost Mountain Shelter and then continued on towards the base of Mt Rogers. After about 2.5 miles, the landscape started to change. Most of the day had been dominated by thick rhododendron - more or less the classic AT “green tunnel.” But as we began gaining elevation on the climb towards Mt Rogers, the landscape opened up. We passed through a field that gave me mild flashbacks to Big Hump Mountain and the Roan Highlands. Shortly after crossing a small gravel road, we approached the tentsite at the base of the Mount Rogers ridge. My morning plan had been to stop here before the big climb, but the tentsite appeared to be overrun with Little Hotties. It was still early enough in the day, and we decided to knockout the climb so we wouldn’t have to worry about it in the morning.

From the tentsite to Buzzard Rock on Whitetop Mountain, we had to overcome a 1,481 foot gain in elevation over about 2.2 miles. Consider this proof that Virginia is NOT flat. The climb was dominated by decently graded switchbacks, which made for a pleasant level of exertion. Delta and I made good time to Buzzard Rock, where we stopped to take in the views. Delta hiked on while I stayed at Buzzard Rock to send photos and voice messages to the folks back home.

Buzzard Rock is a secondary summit on Whitetop Mountain

The forest on Whitetop Mountain had major fantasy vibes

At this elevation, I was now on the Mount Rogers ridge. Mount Rogers is the highest point in Virginia, and the surrounding area encompasses the Grayson Highlands. The forests, rocks, and fields in this area are stunning. Like Big Hump Mountain and the Roan Highlands before, I felt like I was hiking through another part of the world. Maybe Scotland or New Zealand. The trail avoided the summit of Whitetop Mountain (Virginia’s second highest peak) and instead skirted around the mountain’s south face. After a mile, I crossed Whitetop Road and soon came across a number of tentsites just off the trail.

Delta was setting up and I could see Meatsuit and Highlander gathered around a small fire. I set up my tent and joined Delta, Meatsuit, and Highlander for dinner around the fire. We were later joined by a thru-hiker named "Simple Man," who explained that he was a professional musician from Portland, Oregon. He played guitar in multiple bands, including one with a member of Mastodon and another with a member of Sleep. The only band name I can remember him mentioning was "Kingfisher." Simple Man mostly made a living working as a studio musician. Apparently, he’s served as musical director for a bunch of hip hop artists including David Banner. Simple Man rolled his own cigarettes, told great stories, and was overall a sensationally cool dude.

We were all psyched to be entering Grayson Highlands State Park tomorrow. The park is legendary among thru-hikers for its beautiful landscapes and - maybe more importantly - its feral ponies! I had packed out a pound of carrots from Damascus which I was planning to use as pony bait. If my offerings work like I expect, I am hoping to become king of the ponies. We’ll just have to see if things go according to plan.

Gather round and hear the greatest lie ever told: Virginia is flat