- Miles 618.8-633.7 (14.9 mi.)
- Total ascent 3468′; descent 2671′
Rachel and I exercised herculean self-restraint in staying where I sit, just north of the Pearis Ledges.
We arrived at the site around 3:30, with more than enough hours of daylight to make it the remaining 3.3 miles to Pearisburg, in the valley below the Pearis Ledges. We might have even made it into town–with, we’re told, an all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet and Mexican restaurant–before 5 pm.
Why would we punish ourselves so? Because we need business hours!
I want to pay a visit to the chiropractor, who offers discounted rates to those staying at the hostel we are, and perhaps the barber. I described in a prior post the gear and habit questions I’d like to ask the chiropractor, who I’d also like to do a general assessment of my spinal health.
As for the barber, I look like a scruffy nerfherder: I need to clean up for my own satisfaction, and to stay cooler when I hike. I’m not quite ready to get rid of the beard, but I would like to get it trimmed back to maintain some sun protection.
The big landmark of today was the Pearis Ledges, two seven- or ten-foot spans on the Appalachian ridgeline that overlook Pearisburg. The mountains are lower here, so views are often obscured by a hardwood forest not dissimilar to that of Central Missouri (in fact, we are currently within a latitude degree of Columbia, Missouri).
Pearis ledges are close enough to the city for a viewer to see the car traffic, but open enough to let one see 20-30 miles of green mountains in a bowl-shaped background. Our campsite tonight is a grove of broad-leaf ferns, with maple and beech trees interspersed at 10-foot radii from each other. We can hear the nearby spring faintly and the further-away train more prominently. A surprising number of trains still run through these mountains.
Our dinner was particularly sparse — chicken ramen with tuna and a packet of plain oats each. We simply didn’t have a lot of options at Trent’s Grocery, and we weren’t about to pay $13.99 per Mountain House dehydrated meal. A surprising proportion of hikers eat them at that price ($28/dinner for two; $196/week — just for dinner!).
I’m hopeful that Rachel and I will be able to get our second Covid vaccine dose tomorrow. If we can’t, we have a few more Virginia towns coming up in the two-week window. And, if it looks like none of them have it, we can always get a ride to a town nearby that does.
Other than the vaccines, chiropractor, and barber, we need to do laundry, get groceries, and stuff ourselves before setting out for another week or so.
The mountains are grand, but real food has a pull that is hard to fathom from home. We daydream about things like bananas and chips and salsa, none of which we’ve had in at least a week.
The worst itches are the most satisfying to scratch, right?
