Alright, time to pick up the pace with the blog posts.

Here’s the quick and dirty for April 9^th:

• Woke up to a mountaintop blizzard
• Said my farewells to Torch and Tinder
• Met up with a fellow thru hiker named Cosmo to split a motel room in the nearest town (Buena Vista ——pronounced Byoona Vista because those living in the Virginia backcountry don’t excel in areas of Spanish linguistic nuance)   
• Had lunch at an Italian restaurant with rumors (later confirmed) of American-sized calzones (feast your eyes on the monstrosity below) 
• Discovered a quiet Mormon university (SVU) on the outskirts of town
• Met a student attempting to superglue pieces of her engine back together (didn’t stick around to see how that turned out…)
• Ate some surprisingly good Mexican served by some suspiciously southern Latins at Don Tequila’s, the only Hispanic joint in town. Stayed away from the ranch dipping sauce, also suspicious.
• Had my first beer in weeks (A Tecate is now what I wish for when I throw a penny in a well)
• SHOWER (Had almost been convinced the ochre sheen of my skin was a tan)
• Wifi, Tv, and wet socks now toasted stiff from laying on the heater

Out on the trail the best parts of my day were breakfast, lunch, dinner, sitting down for any reason, and taking off my boots. A normal person would argue that these are all trivial things, but when you spend your days walking up and down hills and over rocks, roots, and other obstacles the trivial joys become things you can truly appreciate.

Now imagine a person with that mindset dropped into a world where everything is easy again. Water is as easy as a turn of the wrist and heat a flick of a switch. There are chairs, not lumpy stumps, to rest on. Machines do your walking for you, and when, god forbid, you ARE forced to use your own two feet for transport 90% of floors are carpeted and springy so you veritably bounce along.

And there’s beer.

I think it’s fair to say my trail friend, Cosmo, and I were in heaven.

Our short-winded vacation was destined to end soon though. We’d already arranged a morning shuttle back to the trail from a friendly gardener named Grady. It was for the best. Stay still too long and you get stuck. Besides, we’d eaten and drunk enough for the coming week all in one afternoon and evening.

The day had been a lesson in trying to tame impulsive, pleasure-seeking tendencies. Spartans for a week, to justify hedonism for a day – that’s how we hikers live. It’s all about balance.

You know what they say: too much of a good thing…
Nomad