Day 34 - Ash Gap to campsite before Campbell Hollow Rd - 21 mi - 392 total
What a crazy day! Hiked through snow and ice to reach the top of Roan mtn. this morning, took a break to hang out where the old Cloudland Hotel used to stand (a late 19th century resort for ailing urbanites), then popped out of the woods and onto the road crossing at Carvers Gap. There we met "Reverend" a past thru-hiker who lived in Hampton TN (41 trail miles away). He was a little drunk and taking a 100 mile bike ride. He offered to take any trash of ours that could fit in the back of his bike shirt but we declined and dumped our trash off at the restrooms. From there it was up the well-used gravel walkway to the top of the first bald. 5 in total, the balds of the Roan Highlands stretched for about 9 miles and were very unique. We'd already been to a couple of balds on this trip but to hike over so many in a row was a neat experience. We took the time to hike a blue-blaze up to Grassy Ridge, the only natural 360* view above 6000' on the trail. It was nearing the end of our day, just after we had stopped for snacks past an old barn-turned-shelter, when we started noticing a jingling noise as we walked. Laura kept turning around and looking at Mike thinking it was him and Mike thought it must be something on Laura's pack. Eventually Mike turned around to find that the jingly noise we'd been hearing for the past half hour was a little dog following us. Apparently she'd been back there for a while. She was young looking and mostly white with a few black spots, a tiny bit skinny. Thankfully she had a collar on her and we were relieved to find a phone number on it. At a loss (we are definitely not dog people), we thought the right thing to do would be to try and contact the owner. Since it happened to be Laura's mom's b-day, we'd been going from peak to peak anyway looking for phone service. Once we found a bit of signal Laura called her mom and we watered the thirsty dog. Mike then dialed the number on the collar, unsure of what to expect or who would answer. After a number of rings, thankfully, someone answered. It was really hard for Mike to understand the guy on the line and he apparently didn't even know which dog of his was missing. When Mike described the dog to him he seemed confused and kept asking what color the collar was. The guy offered to come meet us where we were on Hump Mountain, but since meeting strangers in the woods wasn't what we'd had in mind, Mike convinced the man to meet us at the next road crossing where the dog could be exchanged in a more public setting. Hanging up, it all felt somewhat surreal realizing we were now responsible for this dog until we gave it back, that the owner didn't seem to care about the dog or he'd know which dog of his was missing, and that we now had to tack on another 5.5 miles onto our day and it was already late in the evening. Despite these things we hurriedly set out to cover the ground and return the dog. Initially, the dog, who we then began calling Green Collar, was well-behaved walking behind and alongside us as we trekked up and over the last of the highlands. Green Collar's cuteness powered us for a couple of miles and we embraced the novelty of hiking with a borrowed pet. As it started to get darker and the miles added up, the cuteness wore off as the dog became fatigued and increasingly moody. First it whined. Then it started throwing child-like tantrums where it refused to walk any further. At this point we jerryrigged a leash using a carabeaner and our bearbag rope which proved to be an excellent idea when little Green Collar turned crazy when she saw some deer up on a ridgeline above us. (So very) Tired and ready to say goodbye to our foster pet, we finally reached the Apple House Shelter which was only .5 miles from the road. At this point we could hear someone down the trail yelling and whistling and it was confirmed with the people at the shelter that it was the guy looking for his dog. Rudely, they told us to go and not let the guy come back, so off we went, annoyed at the lack of understanding with the shelter people, to return this darn dog. Not a quarter mile down the trail we found the owner, Mack. To our surprise it was immediately apparent he had been distraught about the dog because he became a bumbling fool as soon as he saw her. It also didn't help that he was completely tanked. Thru slurred speech and a very thick southern accent, he introduced himself ("Mack" was pronounced exactly the same as "Mike"), thanked us many many times, and handed Mike a can of Bud Lite from his pants pocket insisting that he'd "been able to tell from his voice over the phone that he'd be wantin' a beer". The three of us and his girlfriend (the sober one whodrove him to meet us, but unfortunately we never got her name) walked to the road where she told us how he'd been loosing sleep over this, and they actually had 3 dogs that had run away which explains why he didn't know which dog I had found when I called. They said they were headed to the convenience store and offered to give us a ride to get some snacks. On the way back to the trail, she stopped at a drive-thru bar and bought us a 12 pack of cheep beer to split with Mack as payment for our good deed. As they drove away in their Jeep that was about to fall apart, we checked the time (it was almost 9:30pm and completely dark), so we agreed to camp at the first available spot we found. Too bad that wouldn't be for a few miles- all uphill and in the end the spot we found was no even close to being called 'flat'. By now it was 10:30 and we were both completely exhausted so we drank the spoils of our day and sat in disbelief of what had happened before falling asleep.
