Pearisburg, Part Three

Well, here I am, in Pearisburg, VA, yet again.  It seems that I can't quite seem to escape the clutches of this small town in Appalachia- I was first here a week ago to catch a shuttle back to the trail, then on Saturday (as the trail passes through the town), and now, here I am again, on Tuesday.  In general I don't do a good job of keeping track of days on the trail (it all kind of blends together), although in this instance it feels like Koen and I were here just yesterday, because, well, we kind of were.  The Pearisburg website promises that the area is known for its Civil War History and the Appalachian Trail, but beyond that I don't know what else... as far as I can tell, Pearisburg is known for cheap and plentiful food, inexpensive seventies decor style lodging, a massive insulation production plant (and accompanying industrial waste landfill), the best hostel on earth (more about that later), and (to balance it all out) the worst Chinese food I have ever eaten in my entire life.  We're off the trail for a couple of days because Koen's back is bothering him, and rather than struggling through miles of backpacking with pain, wet feet, and no views (he brought some bad weather from Boston with him), we've rented a car and are going to see a bit of the area instead.  (Appomattox Court House, here we come!)

Pearisburg insulation production plant.  Not your typical

AT view or sound.  This plant was LOUD!

Having Koen around has been wonderful- it's been lovely to hike with someone during the day, and to share meals and decision making with.  (It's also been nice because he brought some good Belgian chocolate with him, which I've been dipping in Nutella as my lunchtime dessert.)  He's pretty handy to have around with regards to identifying wildflowers, helping me remember that I don't need to eat fried food when in town, doing my laundry, politely pointing out that the 'wild strawberries' I found on the side of the trail are not actually strawberries, and being generally sweet and kind and basically the best thing ever. The only downside to having him around has been that he eats cheese at a more alarming rate than I do, so we keep running out.  (Happily, because we seem to be stuck in a whirlpool around Pearisburg, we keep being able to resupply.  So it's not much of a problem at all.) 

Exhibit A: Joy!

Exhibit B: Not a strawberry!

Anyhow.

We spent two nights at Wood's Hole Hostel, a relaxing, low-key place with yoga, smoothies, a fantastic dog, massages, community breakfasts and dinners, and a garden.  I suppose I should say that the best part of the experience was the atmosphere based on rest and relaxation (and in that vein, re-reading 'A Walk in the Woods' in a day was tremendous fun), but really, it was the food.  Not only were the smoothies, breakfast, and dinner that we ate there delicious, but Neville's bread was absolutely amazing.  Also, I've been sorely missing community dinners while on the trail- before coming out here, I participated in a weekly potluck dinner at my home in Somerville.  Sharing food and conversation once per week was such a wonderful tradition, and I've been feeling the lack thereof.  (Also, I've missed eating dinner that didn't come from a zip-loc bag.)  Being able to stay in such a wonderful place, surrounded by interesting people, and sharing food and conversation did my heart good.  (If you ever come through this area, you really should stop and check this place out.)

Foggy morning at Wood's Hole Hostel.

Up until now there haven't been many pick-upable creatures on the Trail.  Sure, I've seen multiple species of millipedes and caterpillars, and a handful of snakes but nothing remotely catchable.  Even the frog ponds that I've passed have been remarkably frog-free.  The wet weather, in addition to bringing out the incredibly pungent aroma of my boots, has brought out some of my favorite woodland creatures: the Eastern Newt (in red eft stage) and toads!  I tried to shower love upon one lucky guy, but he didn't return my feelings.

The love is not mutual.

I've only encountered one funny sign recently, but it's a passive-aggressive doozy.  I should mention that graffiti seems to be a trail tradition- all of the shelters that I've stayed at have been tagged, some of which have some lovely sayings and jokes, and some of which... not so much.  The worst thing I've seen is a drawing of a naked woman with flippers for feet and whose creator took some liberties with regards to anatomy.

Someone wasn't too happy.



Well, that's all for now: I've rambled my way  incoherently through a lunch/laundry break and one power outage.  I've got more that I want to write about, specifically about the day the tornadoes came through (I was cowering underneath a shelter, which people have been teasing me about non-stop), town days (and how I can't ever seem to hang a bear bag properly afterwards), food (and how my three main food groups are sodium, fiber, and sugar) and gender (the post will be subtitled "where the fuck are all the women?"), but we need to get a move on.  Time and tide (and buffet dinners) wait for no woman!