About noon on Sunday Rob and Emily turned up at Meadow House. We all hopped into Stanley and headed for the Appalachian Trail near Front Royal for a hike. I usually go out hiking about 9 am so I was already starting to wane and thinking about lunch. I'd been clearing up the patio all morning, flitted back and forth across town running errands and was now ready to kick back and crack a beer. But that was not to be. A marching we must go, and so off we set. I couldn't think of where to go where it wouldn't be too hilly but then as Emily later pointed out, the region I live in has the aptly titled 'Roller Coaster' section of the AT running straight through it. Those inclines could and would not be avoided, however sneaky I attempted to be.
We were going to hike a part of the trail I'd not been along before. The AT crossed Rte 522 and I've hiked northwards but not ever been south. So off we plodded.
I was dismayed to see a pile of discarded cans when we pulled up in the tiny parking lot, but Emily pointed out that they were actually donated refreshments. So my scowl turned to a smile, what a great idea. I wasn't sure that sugary sodas were really ideal for through hikers but on reflection these hardy walkers were likely to only be carrying water in their packs, so these would be a refreshing treat.
The trail looked quite appealing as we looked down. Well, it's always nice to look down a hill, but I wasn't naive enough to think that would last. The climb started as soon as we reached the end of the boardwalk.
We passed over a creek and then started upwards, bare trees on each side hinting with tiny specks of gold or green that leaves were about to burst forth. Red bud blossoms lit the brown branches with vibrant pink petals and I was amazed to hear birds chirruping above. Usually I notice the woods are silent when I hike through, but today the birds were cheerfully announcing that winter was over and that newly built nests needed to be filled. The air was warm, the sun light and just a hint of a breeze, perfect weather. Except for mosquitoes. Damn mosquitoes. As soon as we stopped we were surrounded by them and 'no-see-ems', buzzing and whining incessantly, brushing annoyingly in my face. The bug spray bottle did overtime on this hike and my eyes watered as I overdosed on Deet.
We kept moving until we met a gentleman coming the other way. He was
hiking a stretch of the AT for a few days and sporting a Minion
backpack, which he'd obtained from the AT office. Apparently if your own
back pack is heavy they will take it for you to a drop off point ahead
on the trail and let you borrow one of their lighter packs, which you load up with
just the essentials. This practice is known as 'slack packing', which
made us all chuckle. We wished him well and continued up the hill.
Rob spotted a 'cave tree'. Of course this meant stopping for a photo op. Rob was first. I berated him for not getting inside the tree properly. He claimed it was too small, which I proved incorrect. so he then posed again. Triumphantly!
Emily found an ant fight in progress. Some black ants had beaten up a red ant, a female as identified by Emily. They were in the process of pulling the poor girl apart until Emily intervened but we'd arrived a little too late.
The trail continued across another couple of creeks, involving some rock hopping. I enjoyed these parts of the hike but the continuous uphill was wearing me out and breaks had to be taken. We took a few of these, stopping to chat, drink water and gnaw on jerky. We stopped too long on these breaks and I felt my energy waning rapidly. I much preferred an early morning start when I felt fresher with more motivation. I was proving to be a real wuss on this excursion.
This uprooted tree looked just like a
Triceratops dinosaur or a dragon.
Spring was making an entrance on the ground too. Where, just a few weeks ago, I had hiked on barren trails, dusty, crunchy brown leaves, grey rocks and the only color being the teal lichens on boulders, now gave way to pretty purple violets peeking up from the hard earth, white anemones reaching across to cover the ground, small bright flowers and fresh leaves breaking out and banishing the dull neutral tones. Skunk cabbages pushed up, their huge fleshy dazzling green leaves looking like artificial plastic plants, they were so new and shiny. Oak apple leaves poked up through the tired brown leaves, opening like umbrellas, dark vibrant greens veined with white.
The fences of the National Zoo Research Center stretched on this side of Rte 522 also, tall wire panels with strong posts and barbs running along the top. Yet nothing was visible on the other side, no animals could be seen. But Rob was convinced he'd see dinosaurs running through, branches snapping in their wake, and the more I stared through the fences, the more I could imagine scenes of Jurassic Park playing out before us.
We had likely only trekked about a couple of miles before my energy and motivation was finally sapped. Rob decided to hike a little further to the ridge but I collapsed on a huge warm rock, conveniently blanketed with moss. Emily decided she'd had enough also and joined me. Rob was only gone about 15 minutes before he returned so we turned about and headed back, the promise of a very late lunch spurring us on.
As we came down the last slope, the green valley stretched out before us, the buildings of the research center empty and quiet, and appearing like an Italian village nestled in the emerald fields. We drove into Front Royal for food and a beer, but for some reason,despite my earlier hunger, I didn't finish my meal or even want a second beer. The Sunday Sloth Syndrome had seriously taken a grip. By the time we returned to Meadow House, we were all yawning and looking forward to a lazy evening. Spring may have ignited Mother Nature into action but it seemed us three were ready for hibernation!
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