It felt a mighty battle between gods for light and darkness. Deep grey clouds suffocated the sun and loomed over the blue valley while the sun struggled to pierce through in broken patches of light.
Category: National Forests
Here, the white boulders were streamed with hints of pastels — yellows, oranges, and pinks — as we watched the sun set until it faded behind the Blue Ridge Mountains.
This hike is packed full of so much rain that my camera refused to work and fog so thick it became mesmerizing. But in all of that rain and fog: The most amazing Virginia waterfall and sheer cliff drop we have yet to see.
In the woods, very seldom do we actually look and sound like we know what we are doing. What more often than not happens is we muddle through and somehow make it to where we intended to go. It’s a miracle really. But at least we have each other.
Spring had finally arrived in the mountains, which was why we were fine setting off on an unblazed trail because Nature lead the way — She seemed to whisper in yellows as various types of daffodils, unusual dogwoods, and fluffy dandelions spotlighted our path.
This hike goes down as one of our top three, and lucky for us we got a mountain sunset and sunrise there, along with a series of waterfalls, a 360-degree summit view, small campsite on a cliff face, and of course a walk on the Appalachian Trail.
Often I want hikes to last longer than they do; I want time to slow. This could be for a variety of reasons: The view is so beautiful that the minutes, hours I have to take it in — It is never enough. Or the memories created at that spot, on that trail, on that mountain — They are ones I desire to hold onto because I know they will escape and fade, despite my attempts to grasp them. Or, like this day, I could want the hike to last for a more simple reason: To stretch time in the wilderness with my sister and fiance before life gets in the way again.
This was our first snow hike, and it left us admiring the landscape, feeling appreciative to have winding trails and mountains like this one to climb.
Our first hike together in 2018 comes with possible bear markings, a vista that has dramatic drop offs, and — of course — another dose of direction miscalculations.
It definitely looked like smoke. It even smelt like there was wood burning, which really panicked both of us so we needed to hustle and get out of the forest because we were in the most serious hiking trouble we’ve yet to be in.
To say we felt barely holding onto life, to say we felt drained in all mental and physical states, to say we felt like champions by the end — all of that, an understatement. Except for the champions bit. We were, we are champions.
What I learned from my first wild camp is priceless. It’s more than experiencing the wilderness or understanding in pitching a tent to live outside, roughin’ it. It is more.
This hike was the opposite of my last — Opposite in every way opposite can be. But that equaled calmness, exactly what I wanted right now. Plus, it had two vistas, an awesome shelter location, and even a plane crash site.
The only way to summarize this hike is through a quote: “Fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, chases, escapes. True love. Miracles.”
Alright, I’m setting a loose and lofty goal of going on at least two hikes every month. Lucky for me, I made new hiker friends and was able to pack my pack a second time, just seven days after my first hike.