May 2

Woke up from a pretty peaceful sleep in my screen tent. No bear problems to report at all during the night. This last fact probably made the shelter dweller happy. Made what was left of my food supply into a single pot and set off into Damascus.

Those ten miles right before town always go the same way.

1. You're moving too fast to really care of notice anything of interest on the trail. What's that - a snail? Nope, no time to look at it... I'm HUNGRY, TIRED, and THIRSTY. Conversations in your head about what you'll eat or drink can become quite animated.
2. The trail smells get super intense. You start noticing the aromatic nature of the place. The flowers' smells really seem to pop. Even trees, which most people don't think have a particular smell, can blend together into the most amazing of fragrances. I don't know if it's because of entering a lower elevation with more flowers or just your mind entering a different mode of thought.
3. Invariably, you'll always hear the whine of a lawn mower... for whatever reason, that sound carries well into the distance. It's always the first sign that a town in close. Someone is ALWAYS waging a war on the ever growing weed. Even though they planted it in the first place.

After getting into Damascus, VA and securing a room for the night with Willie, I went to the post office to locate a veritable treasure trove of goodies my parents sent to greet me in Damascus. I had brownies, cookies, banana nut bread, candies, socks, a ShamWow. First thing was of course first. I went to the dollar store, bought some milk, and started polishing off a good portion of aforementioned cookies. After eating well above the daily prescribed amount of cookies (which is far too low for a long distance hiker IMHO), I  went to a place called Quincey's Pizza. They were to take most of the money I spent in town. Just a really good pizza place with decent prices, good desserts, and $2 Natty Light Sports (22 oz of trouble). The calzones, strombolis, burgers,and salads were all great.

Not too much else to report on today except that I washed clothes shirtless. I was sure I was going to be fined, but I thought I could make the argument that my unwashed clothes were a far greater threat to public decency than my bare chest. Assured of my defense, I started reading an older Time Magazine from 1992 about the rise of Milan. I'd like to visit there one day. The opera house looks astounding.

Off into the wood again tomorrow.