Cue Vanessa Carlton – 1000 Miles and Harper’s Ferry

Dear Diary, 

I may have gone a little mad from the Rollercoaster. Who thought that was a good idea? 

The black dot is a bear. I was FAR away.

“Pink Blazer, your damsel is in another castle.” Luray, VA

I survived Shenandoah and Skyline Drive. There were bears, so many bears. And tourists, real people. The likes I had not seen for many a moon. There was also waysides with jacked up prices on everything as well as a very blunt and disgruntled man who had no reason being behind the counter of any customer service establishment. 

There were Danger Noodles, aka Nope Ropes, aka String Death. Snakes. Ironically at the Rattlesnake Overlook. Give me a break. I almost died of cardiac arrest. They were everywhere. Who knew the woods could be so wild? Phobias suck.

At first I was afraid, I was petrified. Just thinking I could never live with you alive, beside.” I Will Survive!

Tenting? Out of the question. Dare I lose my head to one of these Kardashian mama bears, I wish it to be severed in the company of screaming section hikers in an exposed shelter so as to allow me critical seconds to pass on my personal computer passwords in hopes that one of them could delete my internet search history.
Poop in the woods? Preposterous. Lest we be gazed upon by some naive bear child wishing to scare it from your bowels while the mother was no where to be found. I’d eaten a handful of blackberries – at each bush –  every bush. Maybe I overdid it. Who knows and who am I to judge? Either way, Nature called and like any Millenial I put her directly to voicemail. She hit me hard the next time. I begrudgingly waded into the sea of bushes and pulled my drawers down. Just as soon as my pants were below my knees, a cub rustled some thirty feet away to watch the mess I was making in my very public cathole. No decency, even here in the woods. 

Black Lightning, quickest laxative on the trail apparently.

How did I settle my nerves from uninvited bathroom guests, snekky sneks and heavy food bags? I stopped into Front Royal to hit up the Virginia Beer Museum. This healthy, adult establishment fixed what aled me with a list of award-winning Virginia Brews. Of the selection, I found a quick remedy in a Pale Fire Red Molly Irish Ale. Alas, I couldn’t keep the glass and wasn’t allowed to throw it onto the floor in approval of their fine services to a weary traveler. I was surprised more hikers didn’t wander in to this fun attraction. 

Continuing north, the heat raged as if someone had begun Armageddon early. Sweat turned to rain, then back to sweat. It’s been a soggy and brutal run of 20’s but the most important part of this whole ordeal is this: Rollercoaster is someone else’s problem, I’m in Harper’s Ferry, Virginia and 1000 miles has been conquered. 

 I made it (almost) halfway. Regardless of my next actions, the direction I choose to hike, or the accidents and mistakes I may have been met with during my adventure, I’ve made it. Now to register with the ATC and get out of here before winter!

 (I know nothing, John Snow)

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