Trip Report: Rockytop circuit hike day one

Browns gap to big run campsite 7.9 miles tent

Sometimes I need solo time. No horse, no dogs, no cats. No friends. No husband. Just me and the sound of my breathing, the crunch of my footsteps, and the creak of my pack. I need to go somewhere with no people and no responsibilities. I need to just be. 

This week at work, I put in 12 hours on Monday and 17 hours on Tuesday. By Wednesday I was exhausted and stressed out. Time for a solo trip. I packed up Wednesday evening and put my pack in the car. I finished my forty hours for the week at two.   I drove out to see Pluto, gassed up the car, and I was gone. 

Slowly, I was gone. 95 was a parking lot. It took me two hours to go 20 miles. Note to self: do not take 95. However, as soon as I got off the interstate, things got better. Soon I found myself driving through Wilderness Battlefield. I stopped at the "shelter" with descriptions and more importantly pictures. What an amazingly violent and horrible time in our nation's history. 

Soon after that I was in the heartland of Virginia. Cattle, horses, and corn filled the fields by the side of the road. It was unfairly picturesque. 

I was looking forward to getting to my motel for the night in the town of Orange. But as it turns out, I watched a parade first. When I got to Orange I saw a lot of fire trucks, and the populace lining the streets. I gave in to the inevitable and pulled over. My only option for dinner was the Subway. I got a sandwich and a prime viewing spot at the back of the parade. 

Orange has a LOT of majorettes. Spangly ones. With flaming batons. It was a good time. 

When the parade finally ended, I drive on to my motel. There I blissfully wallowed in silence. 

I slept in until eight in the morning (I know!) and what with breakfast and packing, didn't get underway until 9:40. I had an hour's drive through heartbreakingly beautiful countryside. I mean, my chest really hurt a little. It was that pretty. 

When I passed the park boundary sign something in me loosened up and I could breathe more easily. It felt like coming home. 

At Swift Run Gap I waved my ID and park pass at the ranger. She barely looked at them. I said I needed a backcountry permit and she waved me over to the kiosk. As I started to drive over she belatedly asked me if I'd been here before. I grinned at her. 

I parked at historic Brown's Gap and got moving. Within minutes I was passed by a thruhiker. I should have asked his name but I forgot because he commented on my Dirty Girl gaiters. Those things get more comments. 

Shortly thereafter I ran into a ranger, and he was the last human being I saw all day. Aaaah. 

Rockytop didn't turn out to be "extremely strenuous" as promised, but it was nice enough. The trail was seriously overgrown. Some of the growth came over my shoulders. I accepted that I would be pulling ticks off later and tried not to stress about it. 

There was some pretty fantastic scenery over huge talus fields. And blueberries! Mostly not ripe yet, though. 

About 4 pm and 8 miles in, I found a fantastic campsite along Big Run and called it a day. It was still broad daylight and I wasn't tired, but the point of this trip wasn't making miles. So I set up my tent in a beautiful mossy spot, treated water, and made dinner. 

I couldn't find a super great spot to hang my food. It's hung, but it wouldn't take much to bring down the branch. I hope I get to have breakfast tomorrow. 

As expected, I found a tick during my tick check. More disturbingly, I keep finding nymphs crawling on my gear. Not much I can do about it though. I need to make time to put permethrin on my gear. All of it. 

Right now I'm undecided about what to do tomorrow. It's six miles back to the car. Or, I could hike north tomorrow and spend the night at pinefield hut, then hike ten miles on the AT on Sunday. Hmm. I think it depends on how much more solitude I feel like I need when I wake up tomorrow. 

Shit! I hear voices. Might have company tonight after all. Maybe I'll get lucky and they won't notice my super sweet campsite over here. 

I probably looked like I was doing a funny walk

So what's the difference between regular backpacking and long distance backpacking?  Town stops.  You don't just have to carry more food and more fuel, you have to carry the things you'll need in town.  Clothes to wear while you wash everything else.  Cords to recharge your gadgets.  Phone cards.  Shampoo.  That sort of thing.

You think by now it'd be second nature to me.  I've done enough long distance hikes by now.  But I don't do them so very often, and I forget.  Also my gear is scattered around the house (inevitably.)  I suppose that I will spend the next few weeks corralling my sarong and my chargers and my this and that.  Like, maps for Vermont and New Hampshire.  I know they're around here somewhere.  Right?

I had to go up and down the stairs at work today.  I had to do that quite a lot.  So I took advantage of the situation.  I went up two at a time to work myself on something a little bit like going up a mountain.  And then I went down two at a time for something like going down a mountain.  That part is much trickier.  Anybody can take a big step up.  Taking a big step down just feels wrong.  I held onto both handrails and still felt unsafe.

Betcha I hurt tomorrow.

I need to pack up a backpack to wear on this weekend's hike with DeLee - both to train for the weight, and to slow me down.  She appreciates it.

All is well at the House of Crazy Animals

At some point in the last two days, the horrible beast settled down.  I don't know why.  All I know is she isn't piddling everywhere and shrieking at us.  Though she is occasionally barking at JD, and I have no idea what she's trying to tell him.

Thank goodness.  I was dreading the thought of living with a tiny demanding pee fountain.

She got her stitches out yesterday from her spay surgery.  In the evening I took her for her first walk with us, and we worked on not pulling on the lead.  She's been adventuring around the house on her own and so far I don't think she's done anything I wouldn't want her to do.  Our stairs are a bit steep for her - I've seen her slip going both up and down.  But she doesn't appear to be particularly dismayed.  Given her size I'm sure it's something she's faced many times before.

I guess settling into domesticity in under two weeks is pretty good.  It just seemed bad because of her first few days.  I'm starting to think the name Princess isn't such a bad fit after all.

I wished I had a camera with me this morning when I went upstairs to check on Princess's progress.  Princess and Olli posed on the stairs together.  I think it's hilarious that the dog's best friend in the household appears to be a cat.

The Inaugural AT 2010 Reminiscence Hike

I flew out to Tennessee this weekend.  Cody had the genius idea of getting some 2010 thruhikers together.  It was me, her, and Just Blue Skies.  Blue Sky was invited too, but she had a grandbaby on the way and couldn't be torn away from the expectant mother's side.

I had a *fantastic* time.  It was so fun and relaxing to get together.  We hiked all three of the full days we had together.  Cody only hiked two because she had school one day, but JBS and I went out on a couple of short hikes that day.

The first day of hiking, we met up with Cody's friends Lillian and Marnell for a hike down to Virgin Falls.  

It started out nice and easy, but it didn't stay that way

The first of many falls on the trail

Almost a classic Cody shot - the red jacket is missing.

Just Blue Skies and her fancy new daypack

Cool overhanging rock wall

Virgin Falls.  It comes out of a hole in the rocks, and it thunders down into a hole in the rocks.  It's a feature of the porous geology of the area.

Coming back, Lillian and Marnell led us off trail, across country.  It was definitely tougher than staying on the trail, but it was a lot of fun.  I would have found the hike challenging prior to some of my New England hiking, but without a backpack it was just a really, really good time.  I loved meeting Cody's friends.  They're definitely my kind of people.

In the morning JBS and I headed on out to a really nice overlook

And then we walked out to Welch Point, which was a flat road walk in a gated off area.

Then we spent the afternoon slowly getting colder, as neither of us were bright enough to figure out that Cody's thermostat had a touch screen.  We stared at it like chimps, trying to figure out where the buttons were.  Doh.  I made Cody's little dog Nutmeg stay on my lap to keep me warm.

Friday night, Stickwalker and Belle showed up!  I'd been texting Stick, trying to convince him to join us, but I didn't think he would do it.  It was great to see both of them.  This is the group watching JBS's trail photo compilations.

In the morning, it was way below freezing.  I had bought a bottle of Cheerwine to take on the trail, but I decided to drink it at home rather than risk it freezing in my pack.  I can't get Cheerwine at home very easily.  Note that my low carb menu went out the window while I was hiking. 

We all headed out to Falls Creek Falls.  Here's Stick and Belle, back on the trail!

Stick dayhiked with his thruhiker pack!  I had my little daypack I've been using for dayhiking and as luggage for the last decade or two.  I didn't even notice he was using a giant pack until later when I saw it in the house.

I was a little saddened to see that Belle apparently has Bell's Palsy.  She got sick with Lyme on the trail, and that's one of the possible problems with it.  One side of her face doesn't work quite right.  It doesn't appear to bother her, though.  Belle took a fair amount of damage from the trail but she's still a pretty happy dog.  Stinky, but happy.  I love that crazy Weimaraner.

So, here's another falls.  You can see too many falls, if you ask me.

Back in the woods, I fantasized that I was back on the AT.  It was nice.  I daydreamed about what the shelter would be like that night, and about snuggling into my sleeping bag, and meeting other thruhikers.  I didn't fantasize about blisters, hiker stench, or ramen.  My fantasy, my rules.

It was such a good time.  We're hoping to make it an annual tradition.  I talked and laughed so much that my throat hurt.  I figure we hiked around 20 miles, so those oreos were TOTALLY REASONABLE.  I don't know what my excuse for the wine was.

Tomorrow morning it's back to physical therapy, work, and low carbs.  I'm a little scared to step on the scale.  But I don't regret one single minute of this weekend.  Or one oreo.

I appreciate you. I just wanted you to know.

I have recently come across some people who have horrible other people in their lives.  I am flabbergasted at just how evil and awful humanity can be.  And petty.  Like the woman who had a dog with her ex.  The dog died.  That was sad.  But then the ex's new girlfriend started posting lies about the dead dog.  That was evil.  And petty.

I am so grateful to have an unexceptional life.  Neither evilness nor pettyness plays much of a role in my daily life.  It's easy and pleasant for me to forget that not everybody has it this good.  I mean, I know not everybody has a great job, or a stable marriage, or a roof that doesn't leak.  But I often forget that not everybody can say that nobody in their life is evil.

Thank you, my friends.  Thanks for being kind, and smart, and funny.  Thanks for telling me stories about your dogs and your kids. Thanks for not spreading vicious gossip.  Thanks for contributing to your community.  Thank you for being upstanding citizens.  Thank you for being good.

Family, thanks for being supportive.  Thanks for just being there and being someone for me to care about.  I love all of you.

And JD, thanks most of all to you.  You're there every day of my life.  You make me laugh.  You make me happy.  I love that we do fun things together, and I love that we just sit on the sofa and watch tv.  Before you I had friends and a dog and cats and a horse and hobbies.  I liked all those things.   And I still have all those things.  But what I have now is something to look forward to every time I come home.

I can't be an artist and stand still

I am a little bit sad that I am not an artist.  I have friends who do fantastic things with paint, chalk, and thread.  I've known the occasional person who could sing well or (more impressively, to me) write good music.  The ability to do any of these things is as far from me as the ability to walk on water.  I respect artists greatly.  I can't really imagine what it's like to have that creative impulse, to say to yourself "Today I will make something new" and then you just go and you do it.  Totally foreign.

The closest I ever got to producing something artistic was in the third grade.  I manufactured a particularly nice little snowman out of construction paper and paste.  In retrospect, the nice part of it was that it was all proportional.  Also, I did a nice job with regular shapes.  Round circles, square squares.  "I made a round circle once" is not the sort of thing you can really brag about in the art world.

I can't adequately visualize something that I would like to make, even with help.  I'm pretty much a failure in the creative vision department.  I was thinking today about my house, and how undecorated it is.  I have a few reproductions hanging on the walls.  Some of them are from Ikea.  Some are from one of the National Galleries.  I have a few small originals that friends and family have given me, but it's not as if I have anything arranged so that it's in a theme.  Or hung level.  Probably the nicest thing you could say about the interior of my house is that it's comfortable.  Which is less praise than one would normally give to the interior of a Victorian house.

I suppose I do feel a little bit artistic.  Sometimes I write things.  One time, in elementary school?  I wrote a story that somebody liked.  I was very proud.  I think it got into a literary magazine of some sort.  (An elementary level magazine.)  However, to me art seems like it should be more hands-on than sitting and thinking, and then typing.  (But then again I wouldn't say that Shakespeare didn't produce art.  Is it art before somebody voices the words?)

The other way I feel a tiny bit artistic is in movement.  Not your traditional ballet.  Not even your non-traditional getting down.  In dressage, I feel art.  Sometimes, when everything comes together and the horse and I move as one, I feel art.

I'm not sure if this counts as art, but when I'm out on a hike, and the weather is incredible, and I'm far from the sounds of civilization, and I am in the midst of natural beauty that cannot fairly be described, it feels like just existing and moving in the midst of that beauty is an expression of art.  I'm not sure why I feel that way.  It's not something that can be captured or displayed.  But it makes me feel the way a really heartfelt song, sung really well, can make me feel.  The chill on the neck, the flush of the ears, the buzzy feeling, the edge of tears. Art.

Today's top and bottom ten

Things that bug me:

People who pronounced Realtor as "Real-a-tor"
Big trucks tailgating passenger cars
Loud talkers going my exact pace so I can't get away from them
Just why *does* homeopathy appear to work, anyway?
Dogs who keep stealing cat food and cat poop (although I have a theory involving cat poop and probiotics)
Having to work when I clearly need to be a lady of leisure
Important pieces of equipment having seizures
Not being a model yet despite three months of diet and exercise
Non-cat-like cats
Laundry


Things I like:

Wii Dance
Red wine
Trail running
Snuggling kittens
Clearing out some of my overload of camping gear by selling it to others
Weekend naps
A sweet husband who makes me a hot drink while he's up
Being able to instantly and magically procure music via itunes
Microwave ovens
Using my brain, sometimes