Day 97: Marion, VA. 1658 miles from Katahdin, 530 miles from Springer.

We got off the trail early! It's a Christmas miracle! The Greer Christmas celebration got moved up, so we are called from the rocks, roots & rain a couple days earlier than planned. 

We tromped, in the rain, of course, to the Mt. Rogers Visitor Center, about 40 miles shy of Tennessee, and laid down our trekking poles to travel to Florida like more reasonable people-- in a car.

We averaged over 17 miles a day, including our days off. Forrest took less than 6 days off from hiking. (I took a few more.) At our current pace, we need about 3 more weeks to reach the southern terminus. That's just not time we have right now. 

I'm heartbroken, as you can imagine, to start eating solid foods, and sleep in comfortable beds, and have more stimulus than rain on my face and leaves crunching underfoot.

I've learned lots of lessons over the past months, like: If you walk uphill for 6 straight miles, you won't be in Heaven, you'll just be tired. I imagine we'll be back to the last 500 or so miles, because you can't turn your back on this kind of education.

Meanwhile, Merry Christmas, God Bless, and keep your feet dry!

Day 92: Pearisburg, VA. 1554.3 from Katahdin, 634.9 from Springer

Virginia is wearing us down.

We have to walk 2-3 hours in the dark everyday to get the required miles in. We have decent headlamps, so this isn't too difficult. However, with a few miles to go the other night, we were climbing over a rock pile and heard a growl. We froze. The growl was repeated. We slowly backed up. We made noise. We talked boisterously. We sang. After a while, after shouting, clanging our poles together, and announcing ourselves to all who cared to listen, we again climbed over the same dark rock pile. Whatever it was had moved on. There are black bears aplenty in Virginia, but there are also mountain lions-- neither of which I would like to meet on a dark rock.

Yesterday, we met some locals out for a day hike and one of them had a 25-inch sheathed blade in his hand. I asked, "What's the knife for?"

"It's for the bars."

I wondered what the nightlife is like that you would carry a machete into a bar with you. Then I realized "bar" is Virginian for "bear," and thought, I'd really like to see that fight. 

Even in the daylight, I don't think these two middle-age men could wield a machete against a bear. I don't think anyone could. Except maybe Lara Croft: Tomb Raider.

Besides being growled at and not having a machete, we have gotten the best of local lore as we pass through towns. One town bragged that they hanged an elephant. As corporal punishment. Had a trial and all. The person relating the story could not recall who represented the elephant. 

In one town we were told: "When they told us we had to desegregate, we just closed the schools." Bet that showed them. By the way, what's the local literacy rate?

I haven't been able to find a bookstore in any town we've passed through to get a local trail map. The bookstore is an endangered species in America. Without a map, we rely heavily on the white blazes painted on trees marking the trail. Usually that's enough, but not in Virginia. Today we got lost, stumbled onto an old section of trail and resurfaced in an industrial complex.

With fresh batteries for our headlamps, we are headed south again. Virginia hasn't beaten us yet.

Day 88: Daleville, VA. 1461.4 miles from Katahdin, 727.8 from Springer.

We have walked from Maine to Georgia!!(in theory). If a sensible person were to drive from Mt. Katahdin to Springer Mountain, they would put 1420 miles on their trip odometer. As you can see, we have done much more than that-- but we are still only halfway through Virginia.

There are 550 miles of trail in Virginia-- a quarter of the whole AT. And, as you guessed, it doesn't exactly run in a straight line across the state.  

We are currently walking the Blue Ridge (of Parkway and John Denver fame), which runs along at about 3000 feet interrupted by a "gap" every 15 miles or so. As we climb down and back up these 3000 vertical foot gaps, I think about the millions of dollars of dental work that would be needed to repair them. 

The leaves have all fallen, which affords us spectacular views. There is a hard frost almost every night and the only greens left are the pines and rhododendrons.

We pass through former revolutionary-era ironworks, ruins of sharecropper communities, and various haunts of Virginia's ghosts.

Bill Bryson wrote: "If there is one thing the AT teaches, it is low-level ecstasy." He was spot on, because I really miss chairs. You are probably sitting in a chair as you read this and thinking nothing of it. Well, that chair is a great thing. When you are used to sitting on moldy logs, lumpy rocks, or just the ground, a chair is divine. At this point, a wooden bench or picnic table is cause for rejoicing.

Yesterday Forrest, who commendably picks up every non-bio hazardous piece of trash he comes across in the woods and packs it out, found a partial pack of gum. It was so exciting to chew gum while we walked that I was almost skipping.

If you can do math (not my strong suit), you have probably figured that we are not going to make it to Springer Mountain by Christmas. We have made our new goal the Tennessee state line. Forrest says we must walk 24 miles per day to get there. So no more time for chairs and gum. We have to get back to that slow-rolling trip odometer.

Day 81: Waynesboro, VA. 1327.5 miles from Katahdin, 861.7 miles from Springer Mountain

Our 108-mile hike through Shenandoah National Park started with the most spectacular sunrise I've ever seen, and then conditions devolved into fog, mist, and rain for days, ad nauseum. (I think there's an axiom to predict this:"red sky in morning...")

We knew that to stay dry at night, we would hike soaking wet as long as it took to get from shelter to shelter until we got to town or the rain stopped. The twist was that our friend Josh and his friend Bobby wanted to meet us and do a couple days of hiking.

If there is an easy way, or an entertaining way to get anywhere, Josh will always choose the entertaining way. So it was no surprise that his entry to the Appalachian Trail involved a rental car, an ill-fated supply run to a vegan grocery store, an argument with a ranger who said the park was closed, and bribing a dad with a van-full of kids to take back roads into the park. They found us by stumbling a mile in the dark, "saving their headlamp batteries," and fortified us with whiskey for the next rainy slog.

Bobby was too smart to hike in these conditions. He climbed back to Skyline Drive and found a ranger to drive him to the next shelter. Josh sloshed out 20+ miles with us. 

The one gear instruction I had given the boys on their way out was "bring rain gear and trash bags to waterproof your gear." The response I got was: "No s%*#, Sherlock." After the first day of long hiking, Josh pulled out a soaked sleeping bag and tried to dry it with the camp stove.

We were sick of rain and ready to get to town, but to get in striking distance as quickly as possible, we had to do an actual marathon: 26.2 miles, to get to a shelter close to town. Josh, limping from his 20-mile initiation and still damp from his night in a wet bag, said he was in. 

We started and finished in the dark, squishing out a total of 27.1 miles in one day. Josh entertained us with stories and kept up for every step of the Shenandoah Marathon. 

Josh & Bobby returned to Baltimore, Forrest and I made it to town, and all of us have renewed appreciation for roofs, hot showers, and non-vegan foodstuffs.