Day 93 - Tuesday, September 13

Linda

Woke up at 7:00 and slowly started moving. The cooler days are an advantage for hiking - once you can thaw out enough to move. We were on the trail by around 8:00. Conflicting signs said it was either 8 or 9.4 miles to Cabin Branch campsite where we planned to stop for lunch. Of course, it turned out to be the further distance. We started out climbing a good graded trail around to Brush Mountain. The ridge up there is almost perfectly flat, but we wound up, down, over, and around every little spur just below the ridge. It was extremely monotonous walking. We could easily have been walking in circles around the same two spurs over and over again, since they all looked alike.

We stopped for a break at 9:45 to take advantage of a rare running stream. Water on these relocated trails is scarce to non-existent. We came down and crossed through a field after Craig Creek, then crossed Rt. 601 before starting the ascent toward Cabin Branch and Sinking Creek Mountain. The climb was slow and steady from there, and it took is nearly an hour to walk the 2 miles to the campsite. Water there was down to a small pool, which still had to be filtered. We ate a leisurely lunch and enjoyed the rest, then packed up a gallon of water to last us until tomorrow, since we knew there was no more water on the ridge.

Finished the next 1.4 miles to the crest of the ridge, and from there, we could only speculate where we were or how far we were from Newport. The trail along the ridge was very rocky in many places, and overgrown with briars in others, so the walking was slow. At one point, I was brutally attacked by a mad hornet, and ended up with several swollen stings on my leg. I seem to have rotten luck with flying creatures. This is the second time I've been subject to their wrath while minding my own business and wishing them no harm.

Later, we came to an area with some old wooden fences, and stacks of stones all around. Stopped for a break along there, and tried to imaging what it had originally been. The history of the places we've traveled would be fascinating to know. I can only make up stories about the people who lived in the farms, cabins and towns whose ruins we have walked through.

For a while we left the top of the ridge and went straight down a horrible rocky trail into a gap of some sort. Passed the ruins of another cabin and fences, then followed an old road for a ways before gradually coming back all the way up to the top of the ridge on a narrow, rocky winding trail. We had no idea where we were. I only knew that we said we'd stop for the day at 6:00, and it was almost 6:00 and I was beat from the rocks. I didn't really care where we stopped. We packed it in at a semi-flat spot and I fixed dinner, using our remaining water sparingly. While dinner cooked, Ronald contemplated where to pitch the tent for the minimum amount of slant. I felt much better after dinner and crawled into the tent about 7:30 to relax and write. Guesstimated our mileage at about 17 miles today. There's no way to know for sure, but I guess that's not critical either. A good night's sleep, and everything will look better in the morning.

Ron

Our entire day was spent with the simple pleasure of relocation hiking. Since we had no information on this section of the trail, we simply had to follow the white blazes. What information we had accumulated conflicted with the miles listed on signs along the trail.

This morning the blazes led us part way up a ridge and in and out of countless spurs. Had it not been for the generally good trail, it would have been miserable hiking. The trail left Bush Mountain crossed Craig Creek and ascended Sinking Creek Mountain. We stopped for lunch at a spring about a mile short of the ridge. I knew that once on top of the ridge, we would follow it until just before Newport. The problem was, I did not know how far. I had no way to gauge our progress along the ridge.

Trail conditions on top of Sinking Creek Mountain were terrible. The flat ridge would normally make for good hiking. Our time was spent wading through thickets of briars, boulders, slowdowns and slabbing across ledges. All the warnings we'd heard about this section were true. Despite the conditions we felt we were making good time.

Towards afternoon the trail took a dive off the side of the mountain. If it wasn't for the fact that we were headed down the wrong side of the ridge, I would have thought we were at the end of the ridge. We bottomed out at the site of and old log cabin. The cabin had fallen into ruins long ago. We passed the cabin and climbed back up the ridge. By then we were totally bewildered as to where the trail was leading us. I enjoy log cabins as much as anyone, however that was an awfully long drop to look at a ruin.

The return climb to the top of the ridge was long and gentle. The trail slabbed the side of the ridge slowly working it way to the top. Once we were back at the summit I began looking for places to stop. With her feet beat to a pulp, Linda needed no persuasion to call it a day. So here we lie. Just how far we are from Newport I have no idea. We should be there sometime tomorrow, hopefully in the morning.

(17.? Miles - 1413.3 Total)