Hiking the C&O: Day 10 (June 29, 2019)

Spring with ice cold water

Boardwalk approaching Paw Paw tunnel

Paw Paw tunnel: 3,118 feet long

Comprised of over 6 million bricks!

Hikers passing by

Big sycamore

Crossing another aqueduct

Towpath separates from the Potomac River for a bit

Interesting bend in the canal

First sighting of blooming rhododendron on the hike

Blistered Feet screaming in pain at this point in afternoon. The damage was done. Thankfully, the hike was almost done too.

One of the most peaceful spots I camped, until the storms came.

I woke up on June 29th feeling tired and low energy. Frogs were croaking throughout the night, at times sounded like people talking. It was going to be a hot humid day, perhaps the hottest of the trip. Thank God for the river and the mostly shaded towpath. I took a swim with my clothes on again before starting out which woke me up briefly. Otherwise I fell into a daze during the morning walk. My feet were not doing good, and I had to alter my walking to limit the pain.

Every hike has a unique experience or experiences that sear themselves into the memory bank. On this hike, it was the Paw Paw tunnel. I reached the tunnel just before lunch. There was a spring of ice cold water nearby, the only one that the towpath crossed. It was so hot outside and the water so cold. The contrast was too good to pass up. I collected a bottle full of the water and my bottle immediately frosted up. It tasted delicious. (On the other side of the tunnel I read a sign that said do not drink the spring water in the area. Ooops.) When I reached the tunnel, I did not grasp how long it was. I could see light from the other side. It's 3,118 feet long. I entered the tunnel and savored the cool air inside. The canal was full and to my right. The towpath narrowed and a wooden guardrail separated me from falling into the canal. However, it quickly became extremely difficult to see. It was dark! I didn't bother putting on a headlamp and it was too late to try and find it. I had to trust my feet were landing where they were supposed to and I gently held the guardrail to keep my bearings. Suddenly I heard people approaching from the other side. I whistled a few times to let them know I was approaching, otherwise there was no way to know I was coming. A few minutes later, I finally crossed paths with them after whistling a few more times. One guy warned me of a pothole on the towpath that was 6 to eight inches deep. Thank goodness he told me. I could easily have tripped into it and injured myself. Finally, I reached the other side, and emerged into the light and heat.

I ate some lunch in a nearby park, just outside of the town of Paw Paw West Virginia. I met a woman there who had hiked the AT a few years ago and she asked me if I needed anything. I was good to go, but enjoyed the conversation. There weren't many encounters like this on this hike.

The afternoon hike became a daze again. It was one of the few times I remember not even having the energy to enjoy the plant life. Just zombie walking. My feet were screaming at me to stop. I tried stopping a few times to see if camping was available but nothing felt right. I was caught in between hiker biker sites as well. Finally, just as I had resigned myself to push another 3 miles to the next hiker biker camp, a spot emerged that I just had to take, right by the river. It was so peaceful, nobody nearby as far as I could tell, on the Maryland side as well as the West Virginia side. I set up camp, took a swim, cooked dinner. Watched a raccoon and a deer on the other side of the river. Enjoyed the evening light off the trees, clouds, and river. Watched bats fly above the river, and fireflies emerge from the forest.

Then thunder. Almost a low grade, constant rolling. I was camped right next to the river. Probably a spot that was under water just a few weeks ago. It hadn't really rained heavily in two weeks so the river had been receding daily, plants sprouting in spots where fish once swam. A big problem I had was that I simply did not have a grasp of the behavior of the Potomac River. From my post work day hikes during the school year, I definitely saw firsthand how the river could transform itself into a violent beast after significant rains. Areas where a person could stand one day, the next day would be under several feet of rushing water. I knew camping next to the river felt dangerous and almost foolish, especially if a freak storm arrived. Another problem is that river communities know that from experience, which is why ideal real estate was already developed, and I couldn't just trespass and camp on some person's property.

The thunder increased as I weighed my options. I was so tired and just wanted to crawl into my tent and hope for the best. Years of experience told me that wasn't a wise decision. It was always better to play it safe. I decided to break down camp as the storm approached and moved to higher ground. I knew this was the best decision for a comfortable sleep. I picked a spot a little higher, I was still on the flood plain, but at least I had a few feet in elevation to weigh my options if things really got bad overnight. After pitching the tent in a different location I crawled in just before the storm hit. The next hour I experienced the most lightning and thunder I've ever seen and heard while camping. Inside my tent was like a strobe light, it seemed flashes were every other second. Rain came down heavy, and I was unable to fully drift off to sleep. Thankfully after an hour, the storm began to subside, I felt comfortable enough to fall asleep...