- Miles 721.0-730.3 (9.3 mi.)
- Total ascent: 528′; descent: 1335′
The hike into Daleville was the first stretch of the AT I could’ve confused for the West. The sparse pines and sun-bleached rocks, surrounded by scrubby, flowering Mountain Laurel, looked to me like the Transverse Ranges of California in spring. Ignoring the rolling mountains beyond, the wind-chopped blue of Carvins Cove, a reservoir the trail overlooked, played the part of the Pacific well.
Where we started the day, Lamberts Meadow, looks more like the Midwest than the West or East. It’s one of seven sites where camping is allowed near Virginia’s Triple Crown, and the only water access within 10 miles north or south. It has a shelter as well as tent sites, though we managed to miss both when we put our tent down around 10 p.m. last night in a flat-ish patch by the creek.
After leaving Lamberts Meadow around 9 a.m. with a full load of water, we had the trail to ourselves. Our first sign of people was four miles in and a literal sign: a piece of notebook paper somebody had pinned to the trail with the short but scary phrase “bear family ahead.”
We didn’t see any bears, though we did hear a conspicuous rustle in the bushes 50 yards above us. We talked and walked by loudly, not daring to investigate further.
The first people we actually saw — a Boy Scout pack, perhaps — was at our lunch spot, just south of Hay Rock. After that, we saw another six, all day hikers, in quick succession.
Hay Rock was, in fact, a series of large boulders, perhaps 15 feet high, overhanging the trail. Compared to the views of Carvins Cove just north of it, it was admittedly underwhelming. After saying goodbye to a couple of day hikers, who wanted to know “how we do it” — a question I never know how to answer, other than the cliche “one step at a time” — we began our descent the remaining 4 miles to Daleville.
Other than a few stumbles and a record five powerline crossings, those last few miles flew by. We were both moving quickly, thanks to the downhill slope, and enjoying the no-stop-required sights of Carvins Cove.
Just as a watched pot never boils, a destination in the mind’s eye never seems to materialize. It’s when one focuses on something else, like the mountain overlooks or the rocky terrain underfoot, that miles pass quickly (not that I want them to, unless there’s a Mexican restaurant, bed, or shower just ahead; and in Daleville’s case, all three).
Rachel and I found Daleville to be the ideal trail town, aside from its highway crossing. Nowhere else, at least so far, has required us to jaywalk across a divided 55-mile-per-hour highway. Just across the highway and to the right, we discovered a Mexican restaurant and the Super 8, where we’d reserved a room; to the left, a Kroger, a Super Cuts, and an outfitter.
Intersections like Daleville illustrate just how much the trail economy has grown in the last decade. The hotel, Mexican joint, and Bottetourt Commons, to the left, were all built in the last five years. The highway itself looks similarly new. A decade ago, a hiker might have encountered just a two-lane blacktop road and a couple of gas stations.
Rachel and I had initially planned to stay just one night in Daleville. We weren’t able to finish our trail chores by midnight, however, and we discovered ourselves to be sorer than our adrenaline-fueled minds led us to believe. Plus, for the first time in about a week, we had enough cell service to access the internet. Rather than leave town with dirty laundry or unposted content, or without a few outfitter-only goods, we signed up for a second.
The only downside is that we’ll need to make up the 12 miles planned for tomorrow by June 14. We’re on a deadline to reach Harpers Ferry, but with dispersed camping allowed again until Shenandoah, we should be able to make the math work.
Plus, tomorrow is New Insole day. My current pair, which claims a 500-mile lifespan, has more than 1,000 on them (Rachel’s are almost as old but even more beat). Also on the outfitter shopping list is permethrin, an insect-repellent clothing treatment, AAA batteries, and a second pair of warm-weather socks.
If anything is worth the delay, it’s happier feet. Thank you, Bob and Mary, for the boost.
