Welcome!
I am an artist who hikes. A hiker who arts. A traveller who revels in the journey without undue devotion to the destination. I hike to be somewhere, not to get somewhere. Thanks for joining me on this journey.
Expect reflections on long distance hiking, art-making on trail and off, hiking culture, nature and my undying love for backrests.
Day 2, where experienced hiker is mortified by rookie mistake, healed by coffee.
Every so often a day comes when it feels like “they” are moving the shelter. No matter how fast you hike, how often you check your watch or FarOut, how much time passes, the end never comes. It feels like you’re grinding away on a treadmill, going nowhere.
Today was a good day for spring wildlife.
I was on trail, by 7:20 and basically before anyone at the hostel had started unfurling. I’m always twitchy after a day spent NOT doing the thing I’m here for, so it was good to be walking. Even though it was under the duress of trying to stay ahead of literally everyone behind me.
It would have been easy enough to hike into Pearisburg yesterday, but one thing I know about myself and my hiking style is that I still love to sleep out in the woods, especially if I’ve found a lovely campsite with a view.
Trail coffee is bad just so town coffee will be awesome. I set myself up for a near-o into Pearisburg where there’s a coffee shop with my name all over it.
I was on trail by 6:43 am, but not because I was planning to hike over 20 miles and not because I was planning to stay at Woods Hole Hostel.
Day 7. Almost twenty miles. Some of them through a thunderstorm. Classic AT hiking.
What it’s like to be dry and smug while watching clouds scatter their showers over an exceptionally beautiful pastoral Virginia valley.
Mostly wet all day today. I loved every second!
