It may be to some surprise that I start the Washington series somewhere decidedly not Washington – an overnight backpacking trip along the AT in James River Face Wilderness. Everything connects, though. I’m beginning this post on a layover at Dallas, waiting to board my connecting flight to Seattle, but 24 hours ago I was on trail, half of the country away. I’ll probably finish this out in my hotel room tonight, another half of the country away.
It’s pretty on brand that I decided to spend the two days before embarking on one of my biggest trips of the year not resting or packing, but backpacking. I suppose in a way that is rest and ‘packing, all I had to do to get my kit ready in the early AMs of today was take out my lighter and isobutane and put camera batteries in my carry-on. Easy enough. This came about, though, from my buddy Mackenzie. We had talked about getting out on some sort of backpacking trip, even just for an overnighter, and these happened to be the dates that worked. Would it be a tight squeeze with work and travel bookending the overnighter? Sure, but I didn’t think twice.
Monday started early. Life’s been that way lately. I had to bring Endor to Williamsburg, while Stilly and Brian could certainly take good care of him in my stead, my Ma likes to look after him and it’s a bit of a vacation for him. That hour east meant an extra hour heading west. Mackenzie had hit traffic which gave me some time to stop through Charlottesville, grabbing Bodo’s Bagels and stopping through a few favorite lil haunts of mine. It was like Virginia was trying to convince me not to leave.
Baby Blue whined as I headed on a southward course to set up the shuttle. I’ve pushed her hard lately – she’s earned a week-long reprieve from my bullshit. On the way to set up the shuttle with Mackenzie I passed by whom I presumed was a thru-hiker carrying a to-scale cross. I wish I could’ve stopped fast enough to ask him what in the hell he was trying to do. It was equal parts ridiculous and moving. On one hand, it was performative, what did he expect to achieve besides stares and selfies from this? If it’s atonement he seeks, are there not more community-based acts he could’ve embraced? Then again, I’m making snap judgement on a stranger. Maybe he’s doing all that on top of his cross march. Who knows. I don’t.
I got to the meetup where we’d end our hike the next day, greeted by hitchhiking thru-hikers. I felt slightly guilty that I couldn’t help, but there was also a certain air of entitlement I got from them, like they deserved a ride by virtue of being thru-hikers. Again, maybe I was reading into their body language too much. I make a lot of snap judgments. I try not to strictly adhere to them, but they’re made nonetheless.
Mackenzie reached me at the trailhead and we took Baby Blue down to the trailhead at Petites Gap. We were only planning on about a ten mile section, knocking out two miles that evening and the rest the next day. Light work, but the first two miles were also the hardest for elevation gain, and as it turned out, weather. It’d been raining off and on that day, but all indications seemed to be that it’d be clear the rest of the day. Well, that was a lie. About a mile in we got to a nice overlook through the trees when all of a sudden a cold breeze barged through. In the distance, we saw a looming, porous gray headed straight for us. We couldn’t quite tell if it was a low-hanging cloud or a solid block of rain closing in on us. We quickly got covered and as soon as our rain jackets were on, the rain hit us accompanied by cracks of thunder and lightning all around us. Grinning ear to ear, we pressed on, thankful for a cool-down after a hot, grueling ascent.
The rain passed as quickly as it came in and we found ourselves in camp with daylight to spare. We pitched our respective tents and got to prepping our meals when I noticed the forecast had changed for another storm to hit us within twenty minutes. It hit us just as I finished up my dinner and Mackenzie’s was just about ready, and we retreated back into our thin shields of nylon. By the time the rain had once again passed, we were both ready to stay in our tents and turn in for the night, lulled to sleep by the omnipresent calls of whooperwills.
I woke up to a new chorus of birds early the next morning. The sun gently cradled me outwards from my tent, greeting me with a forest made new from the rains of yesterday. I spent God knows how long just sitting back watching the trees in the wind before Mackenzie got up. We made our breakfasts, but were in no rush to hit the trail, hoping the sun would dry out our tents to make packing easier. A section hiker stopped near us to take in the morning. We’d end up criss-crossing paths with him for the rest of the day. From the bushes, a deer came up and ended up within maybe a few feet of us. Clearly no stranger to people, I was somewhat suspicious; there was something off with it. It wasn’t acting strangely, but its neck just seemed too long and it felt like the deer was observing us more than we were observing it. Whatever its deal was, we left each other without incident.
Petites Gap to James River Footbridge is a gorgeous stretch of the AT. We were immediately met by views looking over sweeping stretches of valley as we walked along a softly padded ridgeline. Mackenzie and I talked about how so much hype is built up over the west to the point we overlook what we have in our own backyard. Sure, there’s a reason why people love the west. I’m finishing up writing this now back at the hotel after exploring Seattle a bit earlier today, and I just don’t get how people can take seeing Mount Rainier for granted. Simultaneously, when I was checking in for Anderson Award registration earlier today, one of the staff half-sneered “you see Rainier on the way in? Bet you don’t have anything like that in Virginia!” It took all my self-control not tell him to go fuck himself. I’ll admit – Washington immediately has me star-struck. I could easily see myself living here, there’s so much of what I love and I can see a day where I move out this way. Virginia’s my home, though. We might not have Rainier or Olympic, but we have our own gems you can’t find anywhere else. There’s a lot of places I’d love to live and plan to live, but no matter what, Virginia will always be my home.
As we walked along the ridgeline, we stopped to snack on wild blueberries and I was reminded of the benefits of not trying to take the fastest pace possible. I don’t know if I would’ve noticed the blueberries if it had just been me, trying to rush through the hike to prove something to nobody, instead of just enjoying being outside. I don’t need to log high-mileage days in order to be a “real” hiker, and Virginia doesn’t need peaks over 14k feet to have “real” mountains. Authenticity comes from within, not imitation, not competition.
We continued steadily downhill towards the footbridge, being rewarded with views of the James River as the droning sounds of civilization started to reach our ears. After stopping at Matt Creeks Shelter for a snack break, we pressed on towards the bridge, a looming figure in the distance getting ever-closer. In what felt like no time at all we found ourselves crossing over, back to Mackenzies car, back to reality. After a bit of forest road driving we made it back to Baby Blue and we went our separate ways. Within two hours I was in Richmond. Within three hours I was having Mexican and Margs with Alex. Within five hours I was throwing back PBRs and playing minecraft with Stilly and Audrey. Within twelve hours I was in the Richmond airport. Within twenty-four hours I was in Seattle, where I am now. Simple twists of fate. I think I was still tipsy boarding my first flight this morning.
It was a good, if brief, backpacking trip that reminded me not to take for granted the present, whether I’m in Virginia or Washington. When I first got to the hotel this afternoon, a good part of me just wanted to crash. I’ve been going nonstop for a fair while now, going straight from paddle camping to working to backpacking to flying out here. I’d be forgiven for taking an afternoon. I’m only here for but so long, though, so I headed out towards the Space Needle to check out KEXP and the surrounding areas. I’m glad I did. I didn’t bite off more than I could chew, but I still got out. There can be balance. Now it’s 9pm and the sun is just about to set over the airport as I sit on my little balcony, my fingers just about the only part of me still awake.
It’ll be interesting interacting with the other REI folks. I interacted with some briefly earlier today, but quite frankly I just wanted some time to explore on my own. Folks seem nice so far, and yet I can’t shake a bit of imposter syndrome. When the elevator took us up to registration, we were greeted by event staff who cheered and rang cowbells and it just felt performative, like the thru-hiker with the cross. I’m tired, achey, and hungover, I don’t want loud noises and pins communicating that I’m ok to be hugged, I want a whiskey sour, a firm handshake, and maybe a bonus. Snap judgements, once again. I appreciate it, I really do, but this is my blog dammit. It’s nice to be appreciated, but all I’ve done is my job. Maybe there’s folks here who deserve applause and cheering, I just don’t know that I’m one of them.
Well this took a turn into self-doubt real quick. I do a damn good job, and I’m glad that’s being recognized. It just feels weird. My imposter syndrome aside, I’m excited. It’s going to be a fun week, I just have to remember that while this is my first time in Washington, this is far from my last time. Keep moving forward, but don’t move too fast. Enjoy what you can to the fullest instead of trying to fit in everything and only half enjoying it all. More trails, more errors to come out in Washington.