Date: 2017-04-15
From: VA 42, VA

To: I-81 (Marion, VA)
Miles today: 12.1

Day 39: VA 42, VA to I-81 (Marion, VA) - 12.1 miles:Well, you're never finished until you're finished. It was either the trail or Freight Train that called me back after assuming I was finished yesterday. With plans to slack-pack from 12 miles north, back to I-81, I decided I'd tag along for one more go. We were both up at 6am after similar nights of tossing, despite having no plans until at least late morning. We'd spend the morning vegging on our beds, flipping between sports, weather, and old movies on TV, and lightly snacking as we waited for his friends, traveling from the Virginia Beach, VA area, to spend a couple of days with him on the trail. Arriving close to an hour early, we were caught off guard and unprepared when his friends, who I've dubbed Fancy Pants, Pink Panther, and Baby Gravy, arrived in their impressive black Ford Raptor, towing an equally flashy black camper they had just purchased and picked up on their way to western Virginia.Fancy Pants, named so because he likes fancy things (truck, camper, watch, etc) served with Freight Train a little over a decade ago. Now a Senior Chief in the US Navy he's served nine tours of duty, his tenth approaching within the next year. With his nearly-full sleeves, his arms were covered in a variety of rich colors, tattoos I'm sure each come with a story. His muscular arms gently held their tiny four-month old son, dubbed Baby Gravy for obvious reasons. As a four-month old, Baby Gravy didn't add much conversationally, a few whimpers and outbursts, but was cute and added a new dynamic to the trail. Pink Panther, named so for her calf-high pink socks and cruising speed for someone who recently gave birth, is Fancy Pants' wife and herself a lover of running, hiking, and all-around competitiveness. Also along for the ride were their two beautiful dogs, Harley and Gunner.Quickly packing our stuff in order to get to the trail, Freight Train and I were worried we'd both forgotten something, anything, but would later discover we had successfully packed everything. Climbing into Fancy Pants and Pink Panther's vehicle, we began the nearly hour-long drive north to VA 42, a quiet road only 12 trail miles away. The road consisted of many hairpin turns, turning back on ourselves many times as we winded along over ridges, farms in view one second and gone the next. We finally reached the bottom of the ridge, passing small farms with cows huddled together, hundreds of flies hovering in their faces.At 11:30am Freight Train, Pink Panther, and me began climbing our way back over the ridges we had just driven over, Fancy Pants disappearing to drop off the new camper, park at The Barn along I-81, and eventually hike north with Baby Gravy and the dogs until meeting us in a few hours. The terrain would consist of a couple of climbs, followed be a series of minor camel-humps, gradually lowering as we'd approach I-81. The first few miles would pass through what's considered "average" for the AT - twists, turns, and minor bumps through leaf and pine-covered forests, occasionally exiting into brief stretches of cattle fields. With sweat dropping from our brows, we climbed up and over Walker Mountain, the biggest climb of the day, our legs churning us forward as we cruised at 3mph. As we hiked, I'd remain dominantly silent as Freight Train and Pink Panther chatted, catching up over nearly a decade - their lives, how Freight Train met his wife, mutual friends, their dogs, and the trail.We then descended two miles into a gap between Walker Mountain and our next and last real climb for the day, Little Brushy Mountain. We took a quick break in the gap, everyone downing a Cliff Bar and some water, before continuing on. Ten minutes later and with Freight Train leading, we discovered we had taken the wrong trail and were instead following the Crawfish Trail. Feeling the urge to show a former Sailor how to properly navigate on land, ten minutes later and with me leading, we found ourselves still lost in the thick coverage of the rhododendron-filled gap. It was Pink Panther that happened to catch the almost barely visible trail we had started on, leading us back to where we had taken a break, where I easily spotted the AT, hidden from my view earlier by Freight Train.Returning to the correct trail, we were soon up and over Little Brushy Mountain, the last decent climb now behind us. Not long after, and despite what I calculated to be a few miles off from where it should've been, we reached a small wooden sign nailed to a tree informing hikers they have reached the one-quarter way point, Georgia now 547 miles behind, and Maine still 1,641 miles ahead. On a small piece of notepaper above the sign, a hiker wrote simply and accurately, "Remember these times and don't take them for granted. Last one to finish wins!"Another mile down the trail the sound of barks broke the otherwise hot, still air of the afternoon. Harley and Gunner, both seemingly identical to me, came springing down the trail and up to Pink Panther, me moving just out of the way in time. A hundred yards along Fancy Pants was crouched over the trail actively changing Baby Gravy's diaper as I walked up. Having a fit after not wanting a bottle, Pink Panther picked him up and walked a hundred feet down the trail to take care of her motherly duties, returning after a few minutes with a happier, though gassier, Baby Gravy. With everyone good to go, we'd push along seven deep - Freight Train, Pink Panther, Fancy Pants, Harley, Gunner, Baby Gravy riding along quietly, and myself.After a few final series of open pastures nestled beneath large rolling ridges, the gray of rain clouds building towards the west, we exited from the trail a stone's throw from the I-81 overpass, our riding waiting a few hundred road-yards away. I briefly entered a gas station to grab Freight Train and I a Diet Coke and Coke respectively, meeting them at the vehicle as they packed up their gear. Just after 4pm and within 10 minutes of us finishing, the clouds opened up and the first rain in over a week, save a light rain during our night at The Scales, fell. The timing couldn't have been better. Off we were down I-81, quickly covering the ~10 miles back into Marion.Returning me to the Travel Inn, I would purchase a room for the next two nights where I'll be until my bus ride back to Indiana on Monday afternoon. I thanked Pink Panther and Fancy Pants for the ride and conversation during the day. I may only have known them briefly, but any friends of Freight Train must be good people, as they most definitely were. In what could've been an awkward goodbye to Freight Train , a fist bump, a hug, a few strokes of one another's beards, or perhaps a soft kiss, we instead settled for a gentlemen's handshake. Wishing one another well, our trailship concluded as quickly as it had begun and lived. I have a good feeling Freight Train will do well over the remaining three-fourths of trail. Be safe, my friend, and find your version of enjoyment every day.Over the past few hours I've been a hermit in my room, unwilling to walk somewhere for food or even move unless necessary. Unfortunately, however, I've been on the move almost constantly with showering, washing my laundry in the sink, and continuous trips to the bathroom. After having Pizza Hut deliver me some wings, fries, breadsticks, and a two-liter of Diet Pepsi, which I politely, though matter-of-factly asked them to return and get for me after forgetting it, my overall health, though minor, has dropped. I can only hope the quick intake of greasy food has simply shocked my system, but for now I wrap up this final entry, I promise this time, with several quick sprints to the bathroom having taken place since I began. Tomorrow, Easter, will hopefully provide me a day of rest as I transition into returning to life off the trail. For those hikers continuing the grind north, or south: do so with clear minds, steady feet, and open hearts. It's been a pleasure.