Day 50, Pearisburg to Campsite at Mile 643.6

I was back on the trail just after noon. It was narrow and overgrown. This could have been a good place for ticks to attach themselves to me, which was a bit worrisome, but onward I walked.

That weedy section only lasted a couple tenths of a mile before I arrived at a bridge that crossed the New River.

No one knows for sure why the river is called the New, especially because some geologists say it is one of the five oldest rivers in the world.

It’s thought by some the river was formed 260 to 325 million years ago because it is one of only a few rivers to bissect the Appalachian Mountains, some of the oldest mountains in the world.

Others, however, question that age, saying it could be as "young" as 3 million years old.

After crossing the river, the trail made a turn near a large Celanese manufacturing facility. The factory employs about 1,000 people to make cellulose acetate tow, a product made from wood pulp and used in cigarette filters.

From there, the trail became a much nicer path to walk. It was so well maintained it was almost like hiking in Georgia again.

After following the river for about a mile, the trail began a climb over a short knob, then up to a much higher ridge. Several switchbacks made the trail an easy ascent.

On this section of the trail I met Haze for the first time since I left Overmountain Shelter. He was slackpacking southbound.

At the top of the ridge the trail emerged from the woods into a large, flat field called Rice Field.

To the left was an open space, revealing a broad valley below.

From here I could see two states, Virginia and West Virginia. In fact, I wasn’t sure what state I was standing in because the state line passes along this ridge line.

To the right of the trail was a short side trail to a shelter.

It was only 4 p.m., so I decided to keep going instead of stopping here.

For the next 10 miles the trail would follow the border of the two states and occasionally cross it zig-zag fashion, much like it did along the Tennessee-North Carolina border.

Some brilliant phlox amoena (hairy phlox) stood out in the sun at a power line cut.

The trail followed the cut for about a tenth of a mile before returning to the forest. The trail then began a descent into a forest with a grassy floor.

Just before 5:00 I arrived at a spot that looked like a good place to camp. A spring was nearby and someone had already hung a hammock here.

That hiker turned out to be Yung Gandalf. He was a tall, lean young man with a reddish beard. He told me he had just returned to the trail after being off for two weeks.

Getting into camp early gave me an opportunity to turn in early, which I did at 6:30.

During the night, the air turned colder than I expected it would be, so I switched from my 50-degeee quilt to my 30-degree sleeping bag.

I was glad I had taken time yesterday to wash it.

At around 11:30 I heard a noise just outside my tent. It sounded like a large animal rustling in the thick grass. It didn’t sound like it was a bear, but I wasn’t concerned if it was because my food was safely hung on a nearby tree.

After a short time, whatever was making the noise walked away.