Sure, you've gone backpacking... but have you ever killed a man?
I picked some pictures from the trip this weekend to show everyone. They can be found in this cut:
The trip was gorgeous. The idea was that my dad, brother, and I would meet my mom and her friend on the Appalachian Trail (where they've been hiking for a week) for a weekend of backpacking and some resupplying of sweet, sweet outside-world goodness. We drove for several hours and once there, got our gear together and started up.
The campsite was about 50 yards from this big rock extrusion called "Spy Rock" so we went over there and, with some difficulty at first, climbed up on top and got a great view of the Appalachians. Most of the pictures are from on top of the rock.
One of the cooler things was that there were these little pseudo-tide pools on top where rain had eroded the rock away and collected in these shallow pools. In one of them, there were a bazillion tadpoles. Which means that some frog, at 4,000 feet altitude, managed to climb up this giant rock and plant its eggs in nothing more than a puddle. But it was still pretty cool.
The next morning, there was an awesome fog that had collected everywhere. I went through my normal routine of taking 10 pills and washing all the nasty off of my face because of this never-ending sickness. Once I was feeling legit, I took a few more pictures of flowers and went back to the Rock to get a view from up there.
We got on our way, hiked about 4 or 5 miles more and then the three of us broke off from the group again to head home. Our car, though, was about 6 miles from where we now were, so I volunteered to be the runner. I was running down this funky dirt road in the middle of the Appalachian mountains in nowhere, Virginia. I hadn't actually felt that lonely in a long time, but it gave me a lot of time to clear my head and think.
In hindsight, the mileage I put on my body that day probably wasn't such a great idea given my state of sick, because when I woke up this morning I felt like my head had been beaten with a bat all night long. And not a normal bat, but one of those aluminum ones. With razorblades attached. And a really strong guy swinging it.
But the trip was well worth the escape from my house, of which I'd been secluded in all week.
The trip was gorgeous. The idea was that my dad, brother, and I would meet my mom and her friend on the Appalachian Trail (where they've been hiking for a week) for a weekend of backpacking and some resupplying of sweet, sweet outside-world goodness. We drove for several hours and once there, got our gear together and started up.
The campsite was about 50 yards from this big rock extrusion called "Spy Rock" so we went over there and, with some difficulty at first, climbed up on top and got a great view of the Appalachians. Most of the pictures are from on top of the rock.
One of the cooler things was that there were these little pseudo-tide pools on top where rain had eroded the rock away and collected in these shallow pools. In one of them, there were a bazillion tadpoles. Which means that some frog, at 4,000 feet altitude, managed to climb up this giant rock and plant its eggs in nothing more than a puddle. But it was still pretty cool.
The next morning, there was an awesome fog that had collected everywhere. I went through my normal routine of taking 10 pills and washing all the nasty off of my face because of this never-ending sickness. Once I was feeling legit, I took a few more pictures of flowers and went back to the Rock to get a view from up there.
We got on our way, hiked about 4 or 5 miles more and then the three of us broke off from the group again to head home. Our car, though, was about 6 miles from where we now were, so I volunteered to be the runner. I was running down this funky dirt road in the middle of the Appalachian mountains in nowhere, Virginia. I hadn't actually felt that lonely in a long time, but it gave me a lot of time to clear my head and think.
In hindsight, the mileage I put on my body that day probably wasn't such a great idea given my state of sick, because when I woke up this morning I felt like my head had been beaten with a bat all night long. And not a normal bat, but one of those aluminum ones. With razorblades attached. And a really strong guy swinging it.
But the trip was well worth the escape from my house, of which I'd been secluded in all week.