Home is on The Appalachian Trail
I’ve enjoyed nearly two months now exploring the Colorado Rocky Mountains this winter, hitting up nearly twenty winter 14ers and enjoying some beautiful lowland hikes along creeks, towering spires, and frozen waterfalls. For someone who loves big climbs, this place is amazing. But with the trip coming to end, I’ll be driving back across the country, away from the snow covered crumbling granite peaks, through the plains of the Midwest, and then into the Appalachian mountains of West Virginia and Virginia.
I’ve enjoyed the change of scenery, but I miss home. I miss those lush, fertile mountains of the Mid-Atlantic and New England. I’ve spent so much time on the Appalachian Trail that I thought I wouldn’t miss it. I thought I was done. But these mountains out here aren’t better; they’re just different. In reality, the countless months that I’ve spent in the Appalachian Trail has created a home for me, a sanctuary that has taken years to develop. I feel comfortable out there and every time I step on that trail I feel like I’m reuniting up with a childhood friend.
I thought after so many weeks of sleeping in my car and out in the backcountry here that the first thing I’d want to do when I go home is sleep in a bed for a few weeks. But the urge is overpowered by the draw of those tree covered rolling mountains and I can’t wait to get to Shenandoah National Park and enjoy plowing through the ridiculous snow that Virginia got this past weekend. First thing I’m going to do is hug an oak tree. See you all in a few days East Coasters.
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