Woodshole Hostel to Pearisburg

Woods Hole Hostel to Pearisburg

Day Seven – Sunday, March 30, 2014
10.4 miles
9:40 a.m. to 3:30 p.m.

The Barn Bunkhouse at Woodshole Hostel

We quickly got dressed and packed up and made our way up to the big house. All the folks were up and preparing for breakfast.  There was much talk about the weather.  The young lady employee of the hostel who was in the tent had been driven inside the house during the night because of the vicious wind blowing her tent around.  The trio of hikers, who had planned to leave out today to go to Pearisburg to hike back to the hostel, had called their shuttle driver to cancel their trip. We, however, decided to go ahead with our plans of hiking north. 

The front of the Barn Bunkhouse at Woodshole Hostel

After a scrumptious breakfast and many cups of hot coffee, we settled our bill ($15 each of our bed, $13 each for dinner, $8 each for breakfast) and prepared to launch out. Out on the porch I set my backpack on a table in order to lace up my boots.  When I turned back around, my pack cover was gone.  The wind had blown it off my pack. We searched for it all over the surrounding yard, but it was nowhere to be seen.  Gone from sight that quickly in the vicious wind.  Could we really hike in this? 

The main cabin at Woodshole Hostel

It snowed on us all the way to Pearisburg.  Most of the day’s trail wound along the ridgeline of the mountain.  We were right on the top with the wind and snow blowing across the mountain into our faces.  Noses running, eyes watering, fingers and toes freezing.  My purple bandana hanging on my backpack strap was frozen solid; it was no good to wipe my runny nose on.  My thumb was cracked and bleeding.  Were we crazy to be out here like this?  Probably.   But as long as we kept moving we were okay.  Thankfully hiking in the snow burned enough calories to keep our body warm. 

We finally reached the peak of Angels Rest on Pearis Mountain and began the long descent down into Pearisburg.  The lower we went, instead of snow on the ground we began to see ice on the ground and icicles hanging from the sides of the mountain.  It became quite slippery.  When we finally reached the bottom of the mountain, the ground was no longer icy but slushy.  We had walked out of the worst conditions.  We began to see other hikers coming from the Pearisburg side, out for a leisurely day hike up to Angel’s Rest. 

First view of Pearisburg from Angels Rest

We had been told by other hikers that the trail came right down into Pearisburg at the Burger King.  We reached Va. 634 and saw no Burger King.  The trail crossed the road and kept going downward on the other side.   Maybe we needed to keep going to get into town.  We crossed the road and kept going. In another half mile we came to another smaller residential street.  Still no Burger King, but we at least saw some houses. A quick look at our Companion told us this must be Lane Street and we had to go east one mile to get to the Post Office.  We turned right and hoped it would take us to town and to food.

 We had heard about the All-You-Can-Eat Chinese Restaurant and that was what we were looking for. The Lucky Star was not hard to find, located on the main drag.  We went inside and were greeted warmly and treated like long lost friends.  Apparently, they are accustomed to hikers.

Icicles hanging on Angels Rest

We called Bubba while we were eating and told him we had made it.  He arrived in the parking lot soon to pick us up.  When our phone finally got full reception, we had a text message come through from Bubba for last night warning us of the bad weather coming our way.  Like I said, Bubba is a very nice, helpful, caring person.

After collecting our vehicle at the Big Walker Motel, we drove into Blytheville to the Best Western for a comfortable night and a day off tomorrow.  We deserve it after the bitter couple of days we have had on the trail. 

Brushy Mountain to Woodshole Hostel

Brushy Mountain to Woodshole Hostel

Day Six – Saturday, March 29, 2014

18.5 miles

8:30 a.m. to 6:00 p.m.

 

The first thing I noticed this morning was the lack of air in my air mattress.  It evidently had sprung a leak.  The weather was not too terribly bad this morning with temperatures around 51 degrees again.  But the temperature dropped throughout the day until it started drizzling rain by the afternoon.  We figured we were in for another cold night. 

We passed a couple of highways and crossed Kimberling Creek Suspension Bridge before coming to Dismal Creek Falls sign.  We decided against taking the trail down to the creek to see the falls.  The trail running parallel to the creek was pretty flat. 

We continued on to Wapiti Shelter where we took a short break before continuing on to try to make it to approximately Big Horse Gap where we would stealth camp.  As we walked the weather got colder and colder and more miserable with the cold rain.  We started talking about how nice it would be to have a room at Woodshole Hostel to get out of the weather.  If we could manage to hike another 1.6 miles, we could make it there for the night.  The thought of a warm bed kept us going.

We reached the road at Sugar Run Gap and saw the sign with directions to the hostel.  We turned right and walked down the road about a half mile.  Before we rounded the corner to see the hostel, we first saw someone’s tent pitched out in the fenced-in field.

Woodshole Hostel has a stellar reputation amongst hikers.  It is an 1880’s log cabin, first opened as a hostel in 1986 by Roy and Tillie Wood.  Their granddaughter, Neville and her husband, Michael, now run the hostel.  They practice farming, beekeeping, organic gardening, yoga, and massage therapy.  They offer a couple of rooms in the log cabin, private (which we were hoping for) or shared, and also have a bunkhouse and tent camping.  Guests are invited to help with chores and participate in meals. 

We stepped up on the porch dripping with rain.  We left our bags and boots on the porch and stepped inside to be greeted by Neville.  She immediately offered us a shower and asked if we would like to join them for dinner.  We took her up on both.  

After our hot shower dinner was ready to be served.  We joined several other people in the dining room for a Woodshole tradition. We stood around the tables, held hands and went around the circle telling what we are thankful for.  It was a great way to get to know the other folks just a little bit.  There were a couple of sisters meeting there for a reunion, a young couple on their honeymoon, a trio of hikers, and a young lady who was working at the hostel.  Michael was not at home, but had gone to visit his sick mother.  We then walked around the serving table in the kitchen to get our food.  I remember a salad, diced potatoes, and homemade bread, but for the life of me cannot remember the whole meal.  I just know it was good.   

With that many people in the room, we knew it was hopeless to expect a bed in the main cabin. We were sent to the bunkhouse.  “Okay,” we thought, “that’s better than being outside in the elements. “ After dinner we were warm, full, and comfortable but it was short-lived as we donned our jackets, boots and packs and trudged through the rain to the barn.  We entered a kitchen area and found the ladder leading upstairs to the loft/bedroom which contained about a dozen twin-sized mattresses.  We chose two on the end of the room by the shuttered window.  One other bunk was contained the gear of a person whom we assumed would show up later in the night.  Of course, the barn had no bathroom and, before going to sleep, I had to make a trip to the privy out back.

The loft was cold with gaps between the logs in the wall and under the eaves, but we had warm bags so we settled in and were soon fast asleep.  Later, we did hear two fellows come up the stairs and quietly go to bed.  Throughout the night, we could hear the wind howling outside, making doors and windows on the barn open and bang shut again.  Occasionally I felt rain blowing in on my face through the shutters on the window. Overall, we both slept pretty well and were warm.

When we awoke the next morning, we found out that it was not rain blowing in on us after all.   The foot of my sleeping bag, being closest to the window, was covered in snow.   In fact, there was snow all over the room that had blown in under the eaves of the roof.  I’m not sure now that this was better than being in the tent.