The crew spent the day making good time on the trail. Hank was thankful there had been no complaints so far; these guys were more resilient than he took them for at first, though he could tell Matt's pack was starting to sit heavier as the day progressed. As the sun started dipping low, the group left the trail and found a place to set up their tents. Hank collected some rocks and created a small fire ring, then used his spade to clear the area around it of leaves and dig a small trench. As everyone got settled in, Hank got the fire going. The boys came up and he passed them all sticks and hot dogs. When Matt pulled out the beer and threw one to each of them, Hank obligingly accepted one as well. Cracking the tab, Hank asked, "So, I'm guessing y'all aren't from the area?" Paul replied with "We're from all over and met in grad school. There's a break right now, so we decided to get out and spend a long weekend doing something fun for a change."

"Well, up here's great when you want to get away from noise. It's nice and quiet except for the occasional low-flying plane. You can hear yourself think, or just turn your mind off for a while."

"So what's the deal with those shacks you talked about earlier?" asked Trev.
"That's where the moonshiners operate. Keeps their equipment out of the rain, and it's harder to spot when Park Service agents take aerial photos. Like I said, stay away from those. I've heard all kinds of stories about booby traps, shiners going into violent rages, hikers going missing. Some of it's just talk, but some of it's for real."

"What a load!" cried Matt. "They probably spread those stories themselves so nobody can get a taste of the secret recipe without paying for it. That's what I'd do."