Month: August 2022 (Page 2 of 2)

What a damp, muggy morning—perfect for hiking! I got to the trailhead around 8, thinking that would be plenty early on a Saturday, only to remember that hikers are all superhuman and defy logic. I was right in the thick of things.

The first half of the ascent was beneath the forest canopy, with overlooks into the woods that were interesting, if not particularly scenic. With my binoculars, I saw a red squirrel scrambling about the treetops a hundred feet away. I also realized how incredibly out of shape I am. On one end of the spectrum is my buddy Mike Karthas, whose resting heart rate must be 45 bpm; I had to stop at least 20 times on my 4-hour ascent for fear of tachycardia.

The second half of Old Rag is a rock scramble, which is code for “climbing boulders with reckless abandon.” Many thanks to two hikers I met, RJ and Aseem, for saving my trip with extra water. They were excellent companions to the summit; Aseem told me this hike was classified as “very strenuous”, one tick away from rock climbing. I took this as permission to gorge myself on barbecue immediately after dismountaining.

Difficult, but worthwhile. After my late lunch, I hopped back on Skyline Drive, which turned into the Blue Ridge Parkway. I passed a woman painting an overlook at golden hour, as well as two deer and a raccoon. A lively day, but I’m back on the road tomorrow, heading for Kentucky.

On my way to camp last night, I saw a black bear bound across the road, which has been the highlight of the trip so far. I woke up this morning and drove into Parsons, West Virginia, where I had breakfast at the old bridge. The clerk at the convenience store asked me, “What you into today besides your socks?”

“Going to Virginia.”

I took Route 48 through the Blue Ridge Mountains, crossed into Virginia, and arrived at Shenandoah National Park. I took some time to enjoy the one and only road, Skyline Drive, and take in the scenic overlooks. Each one sits thousands of feet above the valleys below, and are excellent spots to look at tiny people through binoculars. Despite the occasional trickle of rain, I also made time to hike the Stony Man trail and came to the second-highest peak in the park. You can see all the way to the Alleghenies.

Rain’s moving in, so I’m calling it an early night tonight. Tomorrow I have a permit to hike Old Rag, the park’s most esteemed trail—then we head south!

Getting dressed in the back of a Toyota Corolla is really difficult. That obstacle overcome, I started driving south. Lots of fog this morning, cloaking the hills like clouds dropping from the sky.

Gray skies again. A Dollar General every mile. Notices of weddings and funerals on church bulletins. The weather was gross until midmorning, after I finished breakfast in Pennsylvania. Then the sky turned, I found a great radio station, and arrived at the gorgeous town of Westboro. Life was beautiful for about five minutes, until I realized I had taken a wrong turn to the west and the radio started playing Neil Diamond.

Once I made it past Route 202 and started driving through southwest Pennsylvania, I discovered the joy of hills. Each time I climbed one, the valley below revealed farmhouses and silos, or groves of trees, or fields of vegetables (which are much more interesting to look at from above). I dove into dozens of them. I feel bad for the house that decorated their two acres with plastic palm trees. Hopefully they still appreciate the scenery.

I drove through to West Virginia, making a stop at Morgantown to check out WVU and play some music. When I bust out the guitar, people are either very appreciative or don’t care at all. Morgantown didn’t care. Probably too big—I do best in small towns

I’m going to camp at Monongahela National Forest, which is the setting of the best Adventure Zone arc, Amnesty. Maybe I’ll find Sylvain. Fingers crossed.-

400 miles in. Thank God for Zoloft or else I may not have gotten out of the state. The jitters are mostly over now.

I took 101 west through Peterborough and Keene, then drove Route 9 in Vermont. It’s a beautiful road, with mist rolling down the mountains, currently besieged by miles and miles of construction. I dodged the rain for the most part, then crossed into New York. An immediate change—manicured farms instead of forest.

I jumped on the interstate for ten minutes to escape the horror of navigating Troy, then started through hours and hours of farmland. Lots of corn fields, and two horse-drawn carriages.

Finally, after spending an hour and a half searching for a store that sold can openers, I made it to Ithaca. I’m camping near the Finger Lakes tonight, and looking to go south tomorrow. No pictures because today was gray and blaurghy—hopefully some tomorrow.

Leaving today. I’ve wanted to drive across the country for about eight years, ever since I picked up William Least Heat-Moon’s spectacular memoir Blue Highways. Thanks to everyone who made this possible, especially my family and the HMS UA team. Because of your support, I won’t have to do the dishes for the next few months.

The plan is to stay off the interstate and other gross roads as much as possible. I bought a National Parks pass, so chances are I’ll make my way to some of those, but I’m trying not to plan more than a couple days in advance. To make some pocket change, I’ll play music on the street, and to save money, I threw a mattress in my back seat in case I feel like car camping. This will be the only picture of me, so enjoy it:

I’ll let you know where I end up today. Only the beginning!

Where I am, and where I’ve been.