636.3 miles, 1,265,067 steps 

After a month and a half of sojourning through strange lands, the “country roads” finally took me home. If the AT is a river whose course guides me through unexplored frontiers, then Virginia Tech is an island that disturbs the current and harbors recognizable comforts. Emerging from the daily flow of trail life, I’ve reclined on the shore to reflect back on the bends and rapids. All at once confronted with my college way of life again, this break is simultaneously a reunion with old friends and a reminder of how I’ve grown apart on the journey. 

In fact, I’ve been in a contemplative mood most of this week. The woods have been… low-key of recent. I don’t want to dismiss the splendor of nature as mundane or monotonous; nonetheless, captivating landscapes were scarce. I looked inward to occupy myself. I entertained no shortage of cognitive intrigues: meditating on the deeper truths contained within scripture, tweaking a mechanic for the board game I’m creating, or imagining future engineering projects I’ll tackle off-trail. While this trail log is more succinct, I still have several happenings to share. 

One quick aside, I experimented with a few apps that fellow hikers suggested to me over the weekend. Though the forest has not fully blossomed into spring, I downloaded a plant identification app to learn about specimens that catch my eye. PeakFinder uses the phone’s GPS, compas, and camera to identify visible mountains. Most impressive and interesting to me, Merlin Bird ID from Cornell Labs can identify birds by call or photograph. You can expect to see screenshots from these mixed in with the photo uploads. 

Day 44: Monday, March 18

Partnership Shelter to Davis Hollow – 13.7 miles 

A less aggressive schedule permitted me to visit a few detours. The Mount Rogers Recreation Area Visitor Center greeted me a few hundred yards north of the shelter. Always willing to partake in educational literature, I decided to check it out. The amiable ranger/receptionist was hard-up for conversation this time of year and inquired about my travels. While I would have preferred to silently consult historical signage (textbook introvert that I am), I reluctantly obliged the chatter for a few minutes. Later on, I reflected on the opportunity to ease this person’s loneliness and regretted that my responses were more dismissive than compassionate. 

Midday saw me tread onto the grounds of the Settler’s Musuem. While the main visitor center was closed, I could ascertain that the site was a preserved pioneer-era farm, schoolhouse, and other structures. The school in particular was just off-trail, so I diverted to investigate the historic building (and its accompanying hiker box). 

The guidebook informed me I would encounter the town of Atkins in the early evening. I guess a lonely intersection offering two gas stations and one southern homestyle restaurant counts as civilization. While the Sweetwater Venue and the Exxon’s Burrito Loco were both dark, the warming lamps of the Suncoco’s Hunt Brothers Pizza stand presented several ready-to-eat portions. I dug out two, along with an ice cream sandwich from the freezer. I wasn’t sure whether to be thankful or alarmed when the cashier casually remarked “I’ll give you the pizza for free, since I don’t know how long it’s been sitting there”. I managed to evade food poisoning, and the coagulated texture of left-out-too-long cheese did not repulse this ravenous hiker one bit. 

Beyond the truck stop, I crossed under I-81. The AT roughly follows the course of this highway until somewhere around Maryland or New Jersey, so this is only our first meet-up. This very interstate marked every “final approach” and “takeoff” in my travels to and from Virginia Tech. It was the first harbinger of the reunion close at-hand and an omen of the long miles and months still to come. 

Day 45: Tuesday, March 19 

Davis Hollow to Chestnut Knob Shelter – 22.0 miles 

A cold snap plummeted the temperatures overnight. Despite starting in February, this night was the chilliest yet at 22 degrees. Out of the frying pan and into the blast chiller, it seems. In fact, the condensation I produced inside the tent instantly froze into snow upon contact with the frigid air outside. A thin row of flakes lined the edge of the tent fly. 

Not more than an hour into the day, I reached the actual quarter-way point! 

Around 3:00 PM, I came face-to-face with Lick Creek. The washed-out bridge hadn’t been replaced in four years, so there was no other choice but to wade across the gentle brook. Absolutely frigid, but thankfully just ankle high. 

The evening afforded spectacular sunset viewing over the wavy ridges and modest town in the valley. Although the shelter was situated on the exposed summit, the stone walls and latching door kept the menacing winds at bay. 

Day 46: Wednesday, March 20 

Chestnut Knob Shelter to US 52 – 20.0 miles 

Today was exceptionally gusty. Depending on the surrounding cover, I was intermittently blasted with breezes rushing past at 40 miles per hour. Tucked into my windbreaker, I was vigilant for dangling branches, dead trees, and other potential windfall that threatened to plummet from above. 

I pitched my tent in a graveled picnic area overlooking I-77. Our glorious interstate system always fills me with wonder and a profound sense of the American spirit. I tried to fathom the innumerable drivers along the entire highway’s length, beyond the menagerie of glittering headlights below me. 

Day 47: Thursday, March 21

US 52 to Dismal Falls Trail – 22.2 miles 

Bright and early at 7:00 AM, me and the local garbage collection crew shuffled into the Brushy Mountain Outpost. The bacon, egg, and cheese biscuits were a bit too petite to put much of a dent in my caloric demand, but at least I could occupy a heated space to ride out the harshest pre-dawn temperatures. 

Fauna manifested once the sun warmed things up a bit. During lunch, a bee alighted upon my water bottle to sip moisture from the sidewalls. Lavender and saffron flowers decorated the banks of a narrow creek. I put my phone to use, classifying a bizarre gold-and-brown herb as Bear Corn. Apparently, Merlin Bird ID picked out a Golden-Crowned Kinglet (a rare and exciting find) among the cacophony of birdsong, but after pouring over the recording I’m confident it was a false positive. 

Eventually, I crossed my first suspension bridge on the trail. Yes, I did pause halfway to bounce up and down on the swaying planks. The opposite bank submerged me into a dense tunnel of mountain laurels as dusk set in. Low visibility put me on-edge, especially given the time of day when predators are most active. My unease jolted to alarm a few dozen yards past the side trail for Dismal Falls. Just to the left of the path, my headlamp illuminated a specimen of mountain lion scat. Several details made it clear this was a recent deposit, at least day-of. Maybe that shuffling amidst the leaves wasn’t a deer after all… 

This was on the edge of a clearing, with the laurel tunnel resuming ahead. The threat of stumbling into a big kitty at close-quarters deterred me from marching any more. After remaining stationary and scanning for movement for about 10 minutes, I backtracked to a campsite at the intersection with the Dismal Falls Trail to call it a night. 

Day 48: Friday, March 22 

Dismal Falls Trail to Doc’s Knob Shelter – 15.7 miles 

Midday saw me surmount a ridge that afforded the first view toward Blacksburg, though Virginia Tech was nestled too low to make out. A few miles before my stopping point, I swung by Wood’s Hole hostel in Sugar Run Gap. Every traveler I’d bumped into this week told me it was a must-see. I have to say, aside from some unique woodworking pieces, I couldn’t figure out what the hype was about. Don’t get me wrong, the owner was very generous: she gifted me a stub of fresh bread, and the resupply shed was all-in-all fairly priced. It was like my reaction to Grayson Highlands. Folks talk all about it, but nothing particularly struck me. I wasn’t looking to spend extra cash to stay the night anyway. 

Day 48: Saturday, March 23 

Doc’s Knob Shelter to Pearisburg, shuttle to Virginia Tech – 8.4 miles 

A band of my friends planned to meet me on-trail in the afternoon. I made it to the rendezvous point with several hours to spare, so my mischievous mind concocted a little surprise. A cluster of large boulders led into a thin, shallow cave. Exploring the crag, I found a means to climb through an opening in the ceiling onto the rocky bluff above. I retraced my steps, positioned a few pieces of gear as clues to where I hid, and sent a heads-up to the group that they’d have to find me. Then I lay prone on the rock ledge, waiting to watch the spectacle unfold from my leafy camouflage. 

It did not disappoint. My friends appeared from the south at the same time as Cincity walked in from the north, an unexpended and hilarious collision of Hokie and trail families that only providence could have arranged. They eventually found my hiding spot, and then there were hugs and laughs all around. The two remaining miles flew by as I answered inquiries about my daily routine and favorite sights. Once back at the minivan, my former roommate Tiernan (who has definitively provided the most esoteric and amusing comments on this blog) treated me to Dairy Queen and, you guessed it, a large one-topping pizza. I was honored to be in the company of such an enthusiastic and generous welcoming party who’d scarified several hours to pick me up. 

I could not prepare myself for the sensation of setting eyes on Tech again. The steady flow of novel encounters and changing landscapes yielded to former classrooms, old haunts, and fond recollections. In one sense, I’d embarked on the trail to transition away from these college days. Yet, in another, the expedition brought me back its very touchpoint, a reminder of the people and events who inspired me to undertake this trek. As I settled into my accommodations for the next dozen days, conflicting emotions provoked a sort of bewilderment. Have I truly left this life behind, or can I pick back up with old acquaintances where I left off? Do the new developments in my absence overpower the memories we share? Am I a long-lost brother returning to his rightful place or a guest visiting a place now strange to him? 

Day 49: Sunday, March 24 

Virginia Tech 

The Palm Sunday procession at the start of mass served as the perfect symbol of what I hope this break will be. My morning hymns and footsteps were now joined with hundreds other Catholic Hokies. Even though I am now on the periphery of this Catholic community, perhaps sharing my travel tales will assist current students in their own faith journeys. 

After catching up with many friends after mass, we made our way to the usual brunch place: D2, the campus buffet. After the conversation died down and the others left to go about their day, I lingered in the dining hall, typing up my trail log (on an actual keyboard again, hooray!) and consuming not a few sweet treats. The classic breakfast plates and same mix of alternative, funk, and 80’s pop from the overhead speakers had me more than a little nostalgic for those freshman days. 

Coming Soon 

Ever felt the need to take a vacation from vacation? Same here. I plan to stay a full two weeks at Tech. While I am reluctant to be spending so long away from the trail, this will allow me the needed time to prayerfully journey through Holy Week and celebrate the Easter Octave. I plan to use my laptop to tweak the website, add extra features to my planning spreadsheets, and possibly implement some of the ideas I had for my board game. It will be some time, perhaps three weeks, until I post again. 

Pebbles 

New birds: Mallard. Even though the new app detected several more species by call, it’s not the most reliable. I count visual sightings only. 

Funny Trail Names: Decaf Cheddar, Hippie Bus 

Songs in my Head: “Fast Car” by Tracy Chapman, “I Ran” by Flock of Seagulls, “Tougher Than Leather” by Willie Nelson, and “Son of a Son of a Sailor” by Jimmy Buffett. “Black Velvet” by Alannah Myles gets an honorable mention. It’s not really a favorite song of mine, but it played across four different establishments this week.

It’s like déjà vu all over again, 

Max “Frassati” Stelmack