July 4. Va. 311 up the AT to McAfee Knob and back. 7.4 miles. Last Independence Day, the Knob rocks were full of hikers--some thru and some day--but on this evening hike we had the viewpoint pretty much to ourselves for half an hour, till the couple who started the same time we did--their first McAfee hike--joined us at one of the classic pretty spots in Virginia. (The Greatest Day Hiker of Them All is nothing if not a devourer of hikers new and experience, young and old.) The air was soupy but the breeze was nice at what may become an annual excursion to celebrate a weekday Fourth.
July 8. Dragon's Tooth Trail to the AT to Dragon's Tooth and back. 5.0 miles. Another evening hike, and with the day still hot and therefore no dogs with us, we chose a short walk that the old dawg can no longer do, due to the rocky stretch of the AT for the last half mile or so before the Dragon's Tooth side trail. It had been so long since we'd done it ourselves that we'd forgotten just how rocky and demanding that last stretch is--bringing to mind the protests, toward the end of his life, from pioneering AT thru hiker Earl Shaffer that re-routings of the trail over the recent years seemed to take it toward the path of most resistance, just for the sake of making it difficult.
July 14. Flat Top Trail to the top of Flat Top Mountain and back. 5.6 miles. Again without dogs, we got to eat lunch at the old-dawg-inaccessible western viewpoint, looking onto Harkening Hill and over to Sharp Top. As gentle and enjoyable a hike-to-4,000 feet as you can find in this area. The Day Hiker was a bit disappointed at the wildflower variety given the time of year.
July 15. Andy Layne Trail to the meadow beyond Lambert's Meadow Shelter, back up to Tinker Cliffs and back. 8.2 miles. The Day Hiker had been talking about a stream-side lunch for several weeks, and so the plan was to go up Andy Layne, down past Lambert's Meadow Shelter to the meadow and stream just beyond the shelter. Alas, a small stream in mid-July can be no more than a series of puddles, which is what the headwaters of Sawmill Creek were on this day. At the little bridge that crosses the creek, we met a trio of big-pack hikers; Gail's question about if they were thru hiking was met with a comeback that was new to us but which must be a classic: "No, but we will be tomorrow." Which was to say they were section-hiking and would be through with it the next day. We left the three, made the climb back up to Scorched Earth Gap and on up to the view from Tinker Cliffs to eat.
July 22. U. S. 60 at Long Mountain Way Station on the Appalachian Trail to Pedlar Lake Road and back. 7.6 miles. Gail's hopes for lunch with the crayfish was to be at last realized on this walk, as we knew that at the bridge across Brown Creek was home to such, as we had fed them tiny peas from our lunch in the past. On the way in, along the creek, we came across a Konnarock work crew, breaking rock to create a better walking surface along a stretch where it had been muddy. We stopped and thanked them for their hard work and continued on to the forest road, and then turned back to get back to the bridge for lunch. But as we arrived, the done-for-the-day work crew arrived as well ("I KNEW it!" said The Day Hiker), and we ceded the spot to those who had labored instead of merely strolled. Back upstream a little ways, our dining spot was still next to the water, though at a point where it flowed instead of pooled.
July 28. Va. 42 to Kelly Knob on the Appalachian Trail, and back. 6.6 miles. A sustained climb--feeling longer than its stated distance--to a great viewpoint, where the mountains before you appear as free of civilization has they must have 200 years ago. The low point of this hike, along Laurel Creek, provides as stark an instance of the death of the hemlocks as we have come across. The rhododendron still do their job of keeping the area shaded under their modest height. But every so often in an area that used to be nearly dark even at high sun, there is a glaringly bright open spot, always next to the ghost of what was a tall, spreading and sun-blocking hemlock tree. The lure of the mountains has to do with their most intense manifestations--clusters of wildflowers, house-size outcroppings, stands of great trees; the great sadness is when one such extreme is so suddenly and so starkly gone.
July 29. The Mill Mountain Star Trail and back. 3.4 miles. A spur-of-the-moment evening hike up Roanoke's municipal mountain. On a warm summer evening, the mountain top was full of people--families with Frisbees, couples arm-in-arm, sightseers looking through the hazy sky at the city skyline. Nearly all the picnic tables were taken as we looked, and finally found one for dinner.
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