- Miles 464.3-470.7 (6.4 mi.)
- Total ascent: 804′; descent 2566′
We made it to Virginia just an hour or so into our hike today, only to stop for another rat snake. Like his buddy we met two days ago, this one was taking advantage of the sun shining through the trail’s canopy gap.
Much as I hate to disturb wildlife, I was hungry. I couldn’t walk around it on the narrow ridge, so I tossed a stick, which, by accident, hit it directly. It played dead, extending our wait.
If only the exclamation “rats” were an incantation to summon every snake’s favorite prey.
I tossed another stick, to equally little avail. Rachel and I returned to where we’d put down our bags and resigned ourselves to the snake’s own timeline.
Finally, after I’d gone through my “to check” apps and received a warning text from Cindy and Suzanne about the very snake I was waiting beside, it moved.
Rat snakes aren’t venomous, but reptiles’ mouths are so dirty (and we’re so far from a medical facility) that it doesn’t matter. Snake bites inject bacteria deep into the tissue, making disinfection difficult, and infections can be painful and dangerous.
No matter: We’d overcome our final obstacle to town, making good time on a slight downhill grade, and walked into Damascus within the hour.
Damascus, we discovered, is the sort of adorable, colonial-looking town Virginia would put on a postcard. Self-titled “Trail Town USA,” Damascus has two outfitters; access to the Virginia Creeper Trail, a 35-mile Rails-to-Trails project known to be as easy as it is spectacular; a diner, a Dollar General; and a half-dozen hostel and B&B choices.
The one thing Damascus doesn’t have, unfortunately, is laundry services. As is the case in Hot Springs and Erwin, hikers’ only choice is to beg and/or pay to use the one or two machines at a nearby hostel. (To anyone reading this with the capital to open a chain of 24-hour laundromats along the AT, please do; charge whatever you want.)
At the Dragonfly Inn, where we’re staying, we washed a few “musts” — our liner socks and underwear — in the sink. We’re hopeful they’ll dry on the steel roof outside our room.
One upside of our B&B is that it’s owned by the same person who owns the diner. Guests get their pick of the breakfast menu included with their night’s stay.
For dinner tonight, we decided to visit Food City, and what a great decision it turned out to be. We split a family-sized sub, a gallon of OJ, and a box of day-old cookies at a picnic table at the edge of the parking lot and feet from the Virginia Creeper Trail.
In fact, we’re deciding whether to do the Virginia Creeper Trail tomorrow. One of the first and widely considered prettiest Rails-to-Trails projects, the VCT is a 35-mile bicycle path through southwest Virginia, much of it in Jefferson National Forest.
Damascus is full of bicycle rental and shuttle services, and realistically, we’ll probably never get another chance to do it. Because Damascus in the middle, most one-day riders choose one of the 17-mile legs. Riding the entire trail takes 4-5 hours.
Once we decide to leave Damascus, we’ll hike four and a half days to a shelter near a national forest range station — the only shelter on the AT where one can get a pizza delivered — from which we’ll shuttle to Marion, VA.
Despite our snake greeting, we’re feeling good about Virginia. We’re looking forward to warmer days, flatter ground, our second Covid-19 vaccine dose, interactions with flip-floppers, and the increasing dispersion of northbound hikers. We’re considering taking a jaunt into Washington, D.C., which I’ve never seen, just before crossing into West Virginia.
But that’s at least a month ahead of us; for now, we’re content to have our belts bursting with three states and one gargantuan sandwich.
