To Ache or Not to Ache: A Tale of Mountains & Muscle Pain



The Knob. Elevation 3100+

 I. Love. Hiking.

Virginia is too beautiful not to enjoy every season outdoors. Spring is full of honseysuckle and birdsong. Summer is lesson in adventure and fragrant foods on the grill. Winter carries a pristine costume of snow and stillness. And Fall. Well, Fall is fiery, alive, and in a state of rebellion against all of the other seasons. It just wants to be special and incomparable. It usually succeeds. Ok, enough of the over-the-top embellishments.

While Virginia is not yet in a fall state of mind, the weather has recently been quite confused. I do not know if I should be blaming freak weather patterns, or accept the mild temperatures as a grand gift! But I plan to take advantage of any accidental "cool and breezy" summer days that happen by. And so, we hiked McAffee's Knob.

8.4 miles of incline and brush. Countless dogs greeting us as parties made their way past. Chirping birds. The constant fear of snakes. Ah! Exhilarating!

But aside from that feeling of victory you have when you climb that last rise, or push past that ache in your calves, there are the people. Hikers are friendly. They are the closest "kin" to the backpackers making their way across Europe that I have encountered stateside. A few factors are probably to blame:

1. Endorphins a happy hiker makes. Who is going to be truly grumpy (short of having fallen and broken something) on a simple day hike? Energies are high, and everyone is predisposed to be pleasant.
2. We are in God country. How can you climb a rise and not feel a sense of awe at the creative power displayed in the wilds? Every leaf you pass is unique, and every rock you step over has been trampled by generations of other adventurers. We are all connected in that miracle of existence and shared panorama.
3. I am usually directing a 160 WATT smile at everyone I pass. More than likely, I am scaring every stranger into compliance with my facial insistence so that they return my addresses. I smile at you, and you smile back. If you don't...well, we are  in the wilderness. It might take the authorities a while to find you. I'm just sayin'.... [note: this is meant with all attempts at histrionics and jest!]

So, there you have it. My theory on hiking friendliness. I can not even begin to comment on hiking etiquette: like, should we feel badly that we don't wear "toe shoes"? Or did that elderly woman get irritated that we passed her on the first summit (when she quite purposely raced us for the front slot)? OR, even though the party descending should be the ones to step aside and let others pass, HOW do you navigate the trickery that is the slit party of XX kids?!

Now, for my list of approved hiking provisions and activities (for the descent):

• Slim Fast bars (surprisingly perfect if you can't get your hands on some Chip or LARAbars)
• A spare pair of sunglasses...for those mishaps.
• A horribly harmonized rendition of "Last Kiss" (imitating Pearl Jam, of course)
• Some in-the-moment dance creations for various occurrences; i.e., my legs hurt, so do the wobbily wobbily knees move

But most importantly, you need a great hiking partner.* Mine was fantastic. Was our ascent at an adequate pace? Well, yes. Did she pack the perfect amount of water? Absolutely. But I am referencing neither of those top assets. No, my partner was entertaining.



The Summit, aka Lion King Rock

 Example #1: Brief tripping move on the way down so startled her that she gasped, flailed her arms, and screeched for someone to, "Hold Me!!!!" Shaken by poor footing, she nearly tore my right arm from its moorings (...because, well, don't you compare your arm to a ship?). And all in full view of passer-bys.  ::sigh:: A-mazing.

Example #2: EPIC. Not only does she question the usefulness of small dogs, but she continually makes fun of me for once admiring a mix-breed Yorki-Poo. But on this trip, a small white fluff ball excited her--maybe it was the endorphin rush, or maybe it was the post-high of seeing the summit--and so she inexplicably and joyfully yelled, "Yorki Poo!!!" and started mock-jogging down the ridge. Until......

"TOO MUCH MOMENTUM!"
Arms rush to protect her face in a futile last-minute move.
A body crashes into large tree, failing to bounce off in jog-halting contact.
The body then ricochets off the tree and butt-plants on a large, limestone rock face.

Yes, yes I do love hiking.

*I am taking reservations for the described hiking partner. She is an excellent companion and will add enjoyment to any family outing. She is both well versed in mountain slang (for those Yanks that think we talk funny down here), and frequently shouts little messages of encouragement, "You are awesome. And we are climbing a mountain. Yeah! And we are awwwwesome!" As she (and I) are both nursing sore quads and rock scrapes, she will not be available until early Fall--please arrange your requests for her involvement in your next outing accordingly.