Virginia - check.
Obligatory thumbs up picture - double check.
Harpers Ferry is not actually halfway to Maine. But it is a big checkpoint.
On to the actual halfway!
June 30, 2008
Self High Five!
1000 miles - check.
Virginia - check.
Obligatory thumbs up picture - double check.
Harpers Ferry is not actually halfway to Maine. But it is a big checkpoint.
On to the actual halfway!
Virginia - check.
Obligatory thumbs up picture - double check.
Harpers Ferry is not actually halfway to Maine. But it is a big checkpoint.
On to the actual halfway!
June 24, 2008
We've gotta get out of this place...
Virginia, that is. And for awhile, I thought it very well might be the last thing I ever did. Maybe it was because I slackpacked for a week. Maybe it was because I got a sweet little taste of the movies and Rock Band I'm missing. Maybe it was because most of the people I knew were either in front of or behind me. Starting on my way through Shenandoah N.P. I was none too happy about hiking. So unhappy, in fact, that it was the first time I ever seriously considered quitting the trail.
Shenandoah is like some kind of strange spirit-sucking, tourist-filled alternate dimension, hidden under the guise of a seeming hiker fantasy land - easy terrain, plenty of views, nearly-tame wildlife, many many places to eat. As soon as I got in, I wanted to be out again, but not enough to be motivated to hike out. I just wanted to sit around, take my sweet time, and complain about walking. I guess it's just my natural tendency to sulk.
I was glad to find out later that I wasn't the only hiker feeling this way. It's the Virginia Blues. I got into Damascus on May 8. That's a MONTH AND 16 DAYS AGO. Don't get me wrong, I had a great time visiting with people and begin lazy and taking lots of days off, but when it's finally time for all that to be over, you want to feel like you're actually moving on, getting back to getting somewhere. And Shenandoah is that last big, 100-mile hurdle you have to drag yourself over before you finally get there - out of VA.
The good news is, I made it. I'm in Front Royal right now, rewarding myself with a night at a posh Super 8. Yes, I'm still in Virginia, but I am no longer miserable. The end is in sight, WV is right on the horizon, and before I know it I'll be venturing into that foreign territory above the Mason Dixon.
P.S. - I did see 3 bears in the park! No pictures, though. Keep your fingers crossed for N.J.
Shenandoah is like some kind of strange spirit-sucking, tourist-filled alternate dimension, hidden under the guise of a seeming hiker fantasy land - easy terrain, plenty of views, nearly-tame wildlife, many many places to eat. As soon as I got in, I wanted to be out again, but not enough to be motivated to hike out. I just wanted to sit around, take my sweet time, and complain about walking. I guess it's just my natural tendency to sulk.
I was glad to find out later that I wasn't the only hiker feeling this way. It's the Virginia Blues. I got into Damascus on May 8. That's a MONTH AND 16 DAYS AGO. Don't get me wrong, I had a great time visiting with people and begin lazy and taking lots of days off, but when it's finally time for all that to be over, you want to feel like you're actually moving on, getting back to getting somewhere. And Shenandoah is that last big, 100-mile hurdle you have to drag yourself over before you finally get there - out of VA.
The good news is, I made it. I'm in Front Royal right now, rewarding myself with a night at a posh Super 8. Yes, I'm still in Virginia, but I am no longer miserable. The end is in sight, WV is right on the horizon, and before I know it I'll be venturing into that foreign territory above the Mason Dixon.
P.S. - I did see 3 bears in the park! No pictures, though. Keep your fingers crossed for N.J.
June 11, 2008
Casa de Lipscomb
Right now I am as close to hiker heaven as you can probably get. Sitting in a beautiful kitchen in an amazing house, with seven friends, on a gorgeous day, waiting for a delicious dinner to be prepared. Also, there's plenty of Dr. Pepper.
Three days ago, Freefall and I pulled up to the James River near Glasgow, VA, which just happens to be down the road from Fairfield, VA, where my good ol' hiking buddy Vachon and his wife, Mary Lynn, live. So after a nice afternoon dip in the river, we hopped in their car and were whisked away to what has become an impromptu hostel. We picked up Pick and Rabid the same day, while Cookie Monster and Timeless (who I just met) were already at the house waiting. Since I've been here, Freefall, Cookie, and Timeless have all packed on, but Thinker, Brahma Bull, and Sweet Potato have taken their places.
I first met Mary Lynn back in Hot Springs, where she came to visit Vachon, and I was instantly overwhelmed by love and generosity. They insisted everyone pack into the adorable little cabin they had rented, while Vachon, Dave from Maine, and I were slackpacked all the way to Erwin, TN. This time it's the same story all over again and even more. They have opened up their entire house to us AND their cars. Everyone who has been here has been slackpacked as far as possible (I went all the way from Glasgow to Montebello - 38 miles) and on top of all that, a hiker-family dinner every night. I have had barbecue chicken, hamburgers and hot dogs, tortellini and fettucini alfredo (with homemade sauces), grilled salmon, and roast beef w/ potatoes.
Basically what I'm saying is - I live here now. I've been here five nights and it's going to be awful to tear myself away from it. Two months ago, I didn't even know any of the people here, but now we're all together like one big happy family. The Lipscombs have let their house be a home away from home. It will be impossible for me to ever repay them. And it will definitely be impossible for anyone to ever top this trail magic.
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