Date- Tuesday 6/7/05
Start- Thomas Knob Shelter
Stop- Old Orchard Shelter
Miles Travelled- 11
Well, the Commandos got up early and left a big mess when they departed this morning. Capt, White Crow, and I picked up what we could in order to carry it out to properly dispose of.
Today's hike wound through Grayson Highlands State Park, a park known for both its beauty and feral ponies. Well I wasn't too impressed with Grayson. The scenery may or may not have been beautiful, I wouldn't know. My eyes were glued to the ground watching where I placed every foot as I walked over the most rock filled sections of trail I have ever been on.
To top it all off I was assaulted by a horse, well a pony. I had heard about the ponies and expected small things about waist high. They are feral but are not timid. They are known to approach people and lick their arms and legs for the salt. Well they are larger than waist high shoulder high is more like it and they are very strong. They are easily capable of knocking you over. Well I got a thorough licking: legs, arms, and neck. The beast just wouldn't be denied. There was no way I could push it away and I didn't want to hurt it. I finally crossed a crevasse it must have considered too big to cross and it stayed on its side glaring at me.
The ponies are not native. There are no native horses in the Americas. The herd was placed there in the 70's by park officials looking for a cost effective means to control vegetation growth. They tried goats and sheep but those critters ate the poisonous mountain laurel and died. They then tried the ponies and found that they thrived. Each year there is an annual round up. Each is examined by a vet and surplus ponies are auctioned off.
During the afternoon I reached a large clearing called, "The Scales", where there was a forest service campground. At about that time the sky darkened, the wind picked up dramatically, and the thunder rumbled. Another of those severe mountain thunderstorms was almost upon me and I was in one of the worst possible places; a high, treeless spot with no time to get off.
Looking across the field I saw what looked like a privy and headed for it. It was a privy, not the most desirable shelter but better than none. Within minutes the rain was coming down so hard I couldn't see more than 50 feet and the wind was blowing so hard I could hardly crack open the privy door to peek out. The crack of lightening and the boom of thunder filled the air.
After a few minutes I saw someone standing out in the storm with a map. It was one of the commandos. Talk about not having enough sense to come in out of the rain. I ran out and suggested that he come in to someplace warm and dry and he joined me in the privy. He told me that he had gotten separated from his friends, knew where they were heading, and that he was trying to find a short cut in order to catch up with them. He was soaking wet and shivering. He wanted to leave and catch his friends so they wouldn't worry and look for him. I told him that it was dangerous outside, that he was in a relatively safe place, and that if his friends were smart they would also be hiding in a safe place. He didn't have any dry clothes but he did have a rainsuit that I had him put on to help seal in body heat and the shivering soon stopped.
After a while, 3 more Commandos appeared. I went out and got them and put them in the now crowded privy. With all the people in there it started getting quite warm.
After about an hour the storm abated and I got ready to leave. They were discussing heading for their cars and leaving for good. I didn't say anything but I thought they had a very good idea. I never did find out what happened to the other 2 commandos.