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[at-l] New Year Hike



Happy New Year everyone!  May you each make big miles this year.

Thanks, Chase, for the great trip report.  Or should I say movable-feast 
report...you sure have learned how to do it right!

I spent 3 days on Massanutten (the next ridge West from the AT at 
Shenandoah) over New Years weekend.  I would have liked to have had more 
hiking time over the long holiday, but my back (an old - well, maybe not 
so old - leaf raking injury) was not cooperating over Christmas.  It 
felt better New Years eve.  Massanutten is not far from home (90 mins) 
so it had the right characteristic for the first over-nighter with my 
new gear.

I didn't know it was bear season.  It's probably good I didn't.  If I 
had stayed home I would not have seen the one that got away.  I was 
walking on from Buzzard Rock Overlook toward Signal Knob when I heard a 
dog barking far up ahead.  When all of a sudden a shape I could not 
clearly make out around the bend ahead moved off the trail and raced 
past but down hill from me, obscured in the brush.  It was moving fast, 
but hardly stirred the brush.  I turned and looked behind me to see a 
young, but still impressively large, black bear move up out of the brush 
onto the trail (I had just walked) to get a clear view of what was ahead 
of him before making his next move.  If I had been a hunter he would 
have been dinner.  A good while later, a blue-tick hound came bellowing 
as he followed the bear's scent along the path the bear had followed 
down hill from the trail.  I hoped for the dog's sake he wouldn't catch 
his game.  I can't say how relieved I am that bears are perceptive and 
man-shy.  He could just as easily have taken the trail and knocked me 
off the mountain.

There was a lot of hunting activity on Massanutten while I was there.  
Shots from many directions peppered the peace.  Not long after passing 
the bear, I stumbled past one group including at least a dozen 
pre-teens, half as many adults, and as many dogs on leash.  I don't 
think any of these para-packers were packing (guns that is), but it was 
obvious they were there for the hunt.  The adults were armed, but I 
doubt they snuck up on much.

New Year's eve was mild and partly sunny.  I over-dressed with two 
layers and had to strip one off before climbing far.  I climbed to 
Signal Knob and camped overlooking Strasburg.  I was not alone: there 
were two other tents there that I saw.  Many day hikers passed me, 
coming off the mountain.  It felt good to already be here where I would 
spend the night, rather than worrying would I get back to the car before 
dark.  Dinner was not too special.  I was frustrated fumbling with the 
alcohol stove: spilling fuel, getting it lit.  The water was not boiling 
when the stove blew out.  I added it, anyway, to my organic macaroni 
healthy hiker-chow.  In the bag by 6, I was still awake when fire 
crackers brought in the New Year in the valley below.  At moon rise, I 
got up to look.  The stars were laid out over a clear sky.  The wind 
stirred along the ridge all night.  It was like a spirit moving about, a 
purposeful visiting thing.  Occasionally it would visit the spot where I 
was camped and giggle the tent; but, mostly I heard it moving about 
elsewhere as if inspecting many special places.

New Year's day was over-cast but fair.  I hiked on past Signal Knob and 
descended along a gathering creek.  3 horses with 3 riders passed me.  2 
of the riders looked like granddad and grandson on the same horse with 
one horse riderless.  A hunter and a hiker were up and about.  I stopped 
for water at a spring (that was some good water) when the horses 
returned but now there were 4.  The new horse was soaking wet, and under 
a young man with firm hand.  It looked to me like the new horse had gone 
on walk-about and had to be fetched home.  The riderless horse was the 
same as I had seen before and was struck with curiosity over what I was 
doing, and nosed into my business.  Back along the Tuscarora trail I 
completed the loop I had started the previous day.  There were lots of 
trees blown down along the Tuscarora section in a broad pattern that 
suggested they had gone down together.  At Elizabeth Furnace I crossed 
Passage Creek and climbed up to Shaw Gap to camp for the night.  At a 
major trail intersection a friendly couple were feeding a fire.  We 
swapped stories, and I took over their fire after they hiked out.  After 
I had dinner (actually 2) and set up the tent, a hunter-camper 
approached from up the trail.  He said he had been hunting bear a couple 
days, some from under a rock table.  He was righteously dirty.  But what 
was most startling about him was when he turned to the side, and I could 
clearly see what he was carrying, the bundle of stuff was trailing out 
behind him as far as he was tall.  I am not kidding.  That man had 120 
pounds on his back if he had an ounce.  Mama musta wondered where half 
the house was.  As much as I like scenery, that was just the second time 
I wished I had a camera, to bear witness to this feat of strength I was 
beholding. 

That night was colder, and I slept better.

My last day I hiked out to Buzzard Rock.  I don't actually suppose that 
Massanutten is all that high, but in juxtaposition to the flat expanse 
of the Shenandoah valley it would be hard to find a better panorama.  
And there is business on a Sunday below: tiny car-dots making their way 
to church, a toy prop plane landing at Warren County airstrip.  Buzzard 
Rock is not on the Tuscarora trail, but well worth the detour.

I didn't see a (live) deer.  But there were hunter leavings over the 
bank where I had parked.  Driving home, there were many carcasses along 
the road-side.  I guess the hunters startle them onto the interstate 
into the traffic.  I hope there are plenty left.

One last observation before I close.  I've heard alot about hiker stink, 
but my wash smells like day old pizza. It does.  At least to me it 
does.  I should probably produce an impartial witness.  Now, I'm not 
meaning any brag, but maybe that's from clean living?  And who's to say 
that smelling good (or maybe better said: not smelling so bad) is such a 
good thing.  I wonder if bear like day old pizza.

:David