Yes, right. I was planning to slack pack 15 miles southbound back to Meadow Creek Campgrounds. That didn't happen. Candypants and I decided instead to catch that ride and hike north from the drop off 15 miles out. Yellow blazing? Yes. Happy blazing? Also yes. Hike your own hike.
We set off at a reasonable pace but very shortly after my shins started screaming. Candypants trekked on but I slowed down substantially into the shelter at the gap before the James River. I cursed everything the whole way down the trail. I hated the trail, my legs and the state of Virginia. I hated my friends and family at home for not coercing me into staying when I was home, I hated my trail friends for letting them let me talk myself into big miles, and more than anything, I hated myself for thinking such hateful thoughts about all of these beautiful people.
When I found CP at the shelter, we looked at each other and knew that we would be making it to Buena Vista that night come hell or high water. We hiked another mile or so to the foot bridge that crosses the James River and found Mama and Papa Bull and a few other friends (names are escaping me). We waited for almost an hour for Mama Bull to jump from the bridge but her nerves were getting the best of her so we opted to move on. Across the bridge I found Dinner Party and Zip and decided to go for a quick dip. It felt glorious. When I emerged from the water there was an older man there surveying the area, clearly on the job. CP and I quickly determined that he was heading west and that he had room for two thru hikers that were Buena Vista bound.
We got dropped at the edge of town and trudged in to the Bluedogart Cafe. The guy that worked there set us up with a room upstairs and we set out to stock up on alcohol to celebrate the 25th anniversary of our dear friend, Candy Pants.
3 bottles of wine and several cases of beer later we returned and decided it was dinner time. Don Tequilas it was. Large Margs it was - Jumbo Texas Margs, to be precise. We eventually ventured back and befriended SNL (the previously mentioned employee at the Bluedogart Cafe). He offered us his yard to camp in for the following night when our friends arrived in town. Yes. Please.
The following day was a blur of reunions, jumping in rivers and ridding ourselves of ticks. It was glorious (minus the ticks). That night we again ventured to Don Tequilas and the Texas Jumbo Margs made a repeat performance but this time with a group rolling 15 deep. It got weird and glorious and new nicknames were created and that is all I can say about that right now.
The next day we woke up scattered across SNL's lawn, my face was plastered to the fence and I was soaked to the bone, my only solice in the fact that I had a dry down sleeping bag (down would have been ruined in the damp night). We all eventually migrated inside and settles ourselves in front of the television and a veritable onslaught of Disney movies. Yes please. The Hardies breakfast sandwiches didn't hurt either. (That's a lie. Yes, they did).
That day a good portion of the Tribe hiked out. Mowgli, myself, Animal, Scarecrow and Avocado opted to camp in the park and wait for Rock Ocean to pick us up the next morning. I purchased six and consumed one beer before passing out under the stars. When I awoke all beverages were gone. Thanks guys.
We packed quickly with Rock Ocean's pending arrival and when we saw that Vanagon pull up we were ready to go. As I hoisted my pack up, however, mid text to Beetlejuice to inform him of the plan, I heard a familiar voice screaming, "HIKER TRASH!!"
I started running before I knew what was happening and when I eventually realized the screaming, orange-haired man as Headstand I only hastened my pace. We mauled him with love despite the fact it had only been a week since our parting. I sprinted back to my phone and told BJ, 2pac and the team that they had to make it to the music festival at Devils Backbone but I couldn't tell them why.
The reunion was glorious. Many thanks to Shredder and G-Hippie for making it a reality. We ate and drank and listened to music and watched the stars and enjoyed the company of not-so-long lost friends. It was perfection.
The next morning the Tribe split again and either returned to the trail or yellow blazed to where they needed to be. I for one knew that I could not hike with shins in my condition and with a pending job offer back in Napa I decided it would be best to hitch a ride up to Harpers Ferry. WV with G-Hippie and Shredder.
Exhausted, I slept the majority of the way through Virginia. When we were close, G-hippie called a fellow Riff Raff member, Bonzo to see if he could host me for the evening and, thankfully in a town as expensive as HF, he could.
One of the first things I noticed upon walking into Bonzo's house was the jeep parked in the driveway - I had seen that license plate before, back at Trail Days. He had picked me up and driven me back to tent city and offered me a beer.
I was in good hands.
Once inside I was a bit skeptical until I looked under the coffee table and spotted the most precious thing I have ever seen: a tiny, several week old (at most) kitten, sleeping on a folded American flag. I was in love. I named her Harper.
She had been trapped in a window well as a baby, rescued only when Bonz's dog, Rio, had heard her cries. She took to me instantly and, of course, I was in love. She had quasi-severe conjunctivitis in her eyes so we scheduled an appointment with the vet to get her checked out.
After two days of kitten loving in Harpers Ferry, I took the train over to DC to see all of my actually long-lost loves, Hannah, Adam, Makeda, Cary...the works. It has been an incredible few days in the city that has always had my heart, though emotional at times.
I had a moment today, somewhere between a coffee-less coffee date/reunion and the glass of wine that I am enjoying now that life is fudging incredible. In the last three months I have fallen in love over and over with these amazing people that I have met on the trail, despite only knowing them for a few weeks or months. I have toiled and fought with myself, mentally and physically, only to realize that the trail is where I want to be because of the difficulties, the confusion and the unadulterated love that has brought me here. I am hiking my own hike in the only way I know how, despite the constant worries about the state of my life when I return from the wilderness.
I kept this silence from my blogging for a reason - I wanted to get all of these thoughts in order. I realized, however, that I have been trying, since I was a pre-teen, to organize my thoughts and emotions and if it hasn't happened yet then it sure as hell won't happen now.
I love. And I struggle. And I cherish and fight and explore and a million other things that make me who I am today. I am just so thrilled that I have found people who love and support me for this tangled, bizzare, loving, obnoxious bitch that I am.
Back to the trail on Sunday, friends, and I promise to keep you updated.
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