Our continuing story of SSC writer Jon and his months-long hike on the Appalachian Trail...

Today is Day 3 of not being on the trail, a welcomed break after weeks of some long hiking days.  I’m graciously being taken care of by Aaron’s girlfriend’s family in their warm, Virginia home in Roanoke, Virginia, cooking us fine meals of Mexican lasagna, homemade brownies, strawberry rhubarb pie a la mode, and hearty meat-vegetable stews.  The neighborhood is a verdant one, full of pre-1900 two and three story homes with azalea shrubs blooming, grand oaks, and Southern magnolia.  Feels like East Grand Rapids but transplanted in a hillier, southern setting.  Volvos abound.

Oh, before I forget, I’ve started a Trail Journals page and have been adding pictures steadily.  Feel free to check it out! trailjournals (the tree I’m hugging is a giant tulip tree, the Indiana state tree:)).

I’m thrilled that my spouse recently mailed me my ‘ole copy of Annie Dillard’s infamous Pilgrim at Tinker Creek. 

Couldn’t help the urge to re-read the classic given that the trail actually crossed the real Tinker Creek on Sunday as well as Tinker Cliffs (the Tinkers were Civil War deserters who fixed pots and pans locally, hence the “tink” references everywhere).  Reading Chapter 1 of her book, I had forgotten how many geographic references Annie mentions that are now so familiar - Brushy Mountain, Dead Man, McAfee Knob - all places I’ve now seen thanks to the AT.  Unfortunately, my Tinker Creek encounter was one of disappointment, given that the section we crossed was nearest a developed interstate exit.  Instead of the giant sycamores and pristine macroinvertebrate-laden waters, I approached Tinker finding a trail thickly bordered by bolting garlic mustard, poison ivy, and smothering clumps of honeysuckle (all invasive plants, if you’re wondering) with sounds of auto traffic clearly audible.  And the stream was only bordered by one tree species: boxelder, which isn’t a bad thing but reminds me of a poison ivy tree.  The stream itself had a small cement dam, as well, and the water wasn’t as clear as I’d hoped.  In hindsight, I’m sure Annie was inspired by a more untouched stretch of the creek further upstream in the hills.  I was disheartened, but was able to appreciate the brilliant green foliage shading the water and was pleasantly visited by a colorful millipede meandering along the bridge where I sat to reflect.

This is not to say that this part of southwest Virginia hasn’t been beautiful.  The previous days of hiking took us through the upper stretches of Tinker Creek’s watershed which were chuck full of wildlife and wildflowers and the largest white oak I’ve ever seen (the Keffer Oak).  Never in my life have I seen four scarlet tanagers with my very eyes (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scarlet_Tanager), seen and on a few occasions picked up non-venomous snakes, stumbled upon box turtles in the path, watched tree lizards mate in the sun, smelled wild azaleas, or actually encountered wild colombine and Lady’s Slippers.  The wintergreen berries have been appreciated (reminds me of my grandpa’s wintergreen Certs), and we’ve been lucky to find tasty morels, ramps (wild leeks, essentially), and steamed some stinging nettle for an unexpected nutrition boost and a welcomed addition to mac n cheese, Ramen, etc.  Also find that wild ginger + wild mint tea is really tasty!

Pearisburg, VA left a strange taste in my mouth.  Double Bag and I were only there for half a day to resupply, but didn’t end up leaving until 10:15 at night, forcing us to choose a campsite not far out of town near a chemical factory (though in the woods).  Could still see the lights, could hear traffic near a busy road, and a peculiar odor exuded from the plant.  Town had also left a strange feeling in my stomach, leading to GI issues that had me worried about Giardia, though thankfully the moment passed and all is well.

Another blessing this week was the one night we stayed in Blacksburg with a former work contact I knew.  Double and I were picked up along a country road by my friend and her two-going-on-three year-old daughter and spent the night with the family, enjoying again a series of delicious meals (salad!) and the welcomed energy of a toddler who thought we were the best thing on Earth (Nora made us welcome signs with stickers to take with us, danced to music for us, and loved my description of a bird I saw in the woods, asking me with hand gestures, “Was it this big?  This big?").

Most strikingly, we watched a one-hour TV program on Appalachia that night, and I became engrossed with the history of the region, so much so that I’m thinking seriously about pursuing such study in grad school (at some point) in cultural geography.  The show touched on the bust-boom history of coal and logging, highlighted the natural riches of the Appalachian Mountains (one of the most biodiverse regions of the temperate world), and stories of the strong people that settled here and have survived through tough times.  Heart-wrenching stories of people often looked down upon, misinterpreted or made fun of due to heavy accents and folk-ish ways.  I’m ready to pour myself into learning more about the stories of Appalachian settlers, farmers, folk artisans, and those that intimately knew the land.  So much rural knowledge of medicinal plants, musical talent, etc.  The film also reminded me how infuriated I am at the mining practice of mountaintop removal, where in the past decade entire mountaintops have been leveled by huge machines in search of coal, the rubble dumped into forest ravines only to kill plant and animal life, destroy the natural hydrology, and leading to floods and mudslides that have decimated rural communities and killed many.  The film said that with remote sensing and GIS technology, it has been calculated that over 500 mountains have been destroyed in the process and no longer exist. 500 mountains in Appalachia are now gone forever, many of which were home to real people, the backdrop for family history, sunsets, and the breeding grounds of fish, salamanders, bears, birds, etc.  I hear Congress is introducing legislation to stop mountain top mining practices, and I hope it passes!  I can’t imagine someone blowing up the landscape of my childhood.

Other memories of the week include eating lunch on a fallen tree watching cows graze, climbing up the vertical slabs of sandstone at Dragon’s Tooth for a 360 view of the surrounding valleys, spilling a one-gallon bag of our shared trailmix while eating lunch (and picking up what was spilled and putting most of it back in the bag!), reuniting with other hiker buddies in the rain and at a country restaurant, getting lost at the interstate exchange and walking under an overpass (feeling homeless) by busy traffic, long phone calls, reading late into the night in a dry bed, meeting Aaron’s girlfriend who just returned from nearly one year of living and working in rural Congo, and laughing hysterically while exchanging stories with our host family around a big table full of homemade goodies.

And happy belated Cinco de Mayo!

”Birches”
also known as “the Appalachian Trail guy”