As I progress south, I realize that I must adjust my inverse flip-flop of a thru-hike to break off somewhere south of Virginia. Accordingly, my pace slows down with extra days off in and around the Shenandoahs. Throughout this stretch, I note that my northbound brethren seem to come in relative groups, likening their effect on the trail vine as constant living waves of thru-hikers with a definite frequency. This is the point where I met most of the northbounders, the living waves up the trail reaching their peak magnitudes. Jealousy overcame me and I succumbed to slackpacking to get over the ridges south of Rockfish Gap, as well as take more time off. Technical problems involving the pack and camera also slow me down. After Cloverdale, the thru-hiker crowd thins out and I am again spending nights alone at the shelter. The mid-summer heat of the Southern Appalachians is oppressive but I make good time through some spectacular scenery to arrive at the border of Tennessee. After a good respite to arrange the new northbound itinerary details, I finish off some rather dismal trail miles to meet up with Ken. He joins me for the inspiring Roan Highlands and brings me back to civilization afterwards. A few days later, I am at my brother's place, ready to hike north to Katahdin.

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