Project Eveningland

4/29/2023 Saturday

I love Daleville, but it’s time for a new adventure. The trail out of a town is always a little bit scummy. More trash, more ticks (common in wildlife-urban interface), iffier water, and road noise for several miles. But how lovely to anticipate the views from Taylor Mountain Overlook, our 15-mile endpoint for the day.

The lower forests, fields, and yards which abut the trail out of Daleville are dotted with different-colored marking flags with the Lowe’s logo. I could not discern any logic to their placement. I was eager to reach the hills proper, and try out the cistern at Fullhardt Knob shelter. It’s the only shelter with a cistern and the recent rains made it a safe bet on a dry-ish stretch.

We were joined by Alabama Chowder and Boxer Mom. I met Chowder about a hundred miles ago. Listened to lots of legal podcasts this afternoon. And then I saw it. A rhododendron bloom. And then more and more of them. It seems too early but they are lovely at any time. The flowers on these are a rich, celebratory pink, almost a raspberry.

The creeks and springs and waterfalls are all high and rushing. The canopy keeps the forest much cooler now, and the leaves are substantial enough to make that wonderful shifting sound in a light breeze.

I think more wet weather is on the way. My metatarsals were sore for the first half of the day in that way they get when there’re pressure changes afoot. Or maybe it was the new shoes getting broken in.

The afternoon miles passed easily with the smooth tread (a few rocky bits here and there). Ben met us at the Taylor Mountain Overlook, a stop along the Blue Ridge Parkway with a grand view of green valleys below. There were high schoolers up there taking prom pictures. I get the desire for a pretty, free backdrop. What feels weird to me is their proximity to people in backpacking gear who actually walked there. The juxtaposition makes the tuxes and dresses seem tawdry, unnatural. To me anyway. Since it’s prom night, I wanted to whisper, “use condoms, kiddos” but stayed silent.

Zoey was delighted to get out of the car and run around. The winds were a little chilly up there. We piled back into the car and set off for our country rental house. Later along the parkway we saw more teenagers posing in dresses with skateboards. I clucked in disapproval (don’t ask me why). Ben said, “oh, let them have their fun.”

Back at the house Benny made me tacos while I rested and wrote. The drive back was winding. A real white-knuckle thrill ride, by which I mean nausea tour.

Thinking and talking about home is hard. At least 2-3 people have asked me if I was tempted to leave with Ben. I am tempted but never less so on a long hike. I am more focused on getting through the psychological “thud” that the departure of my husband and our emotional support sheepdog will cause. Partings such as this are a hazard of thru-hiking. Part of the deal.