The West Virginia Wild and Dangerous Animal Board says it is okay to keep sugar gliders as pets. Here is my humorous take on that decision via YouTube.
The West Virginia Wild and Dangerous Animal Board says it is okay to keep sugar gliders as pets. Here is my humorous take on that decision via YouTube.
Front Royal, VA – Mile 498
Nick’s adventure hiking the Virginia portion of the Appalachian Trail is almost over. We met him Saturday near Front Royal where the trail crosses US 522. We got there a little early (cell phones make rendezvous times very easy) so Ron and I embraced the trail and started walking to meet him. After an arduous hike of 1000 yards, Nick appeared and led us back to the parking lot. Nick walked faster carrying a 30 pound backpack than I did carrying only my cell phone.
This was a short visit, for lunch only, because Nick is determined to make it home by Monday. That means hiking over 50 miles in two and ½ days. I insisted he change shirts before going into Front Royal. I handed him a clean shirt and a stick of deodorant. We enjoyed a great lunch at the Apple House Deli. Nick is tired. He admits he should have taken more days off especially after completing 21 miles in one day as he did while in the Shenandoah National Park.
Nick had only rave reviews about Shenandoah National Park. Thanks to the recommendation of Harpers Ferry NHP Superintendent Rebecca Herriot, he indulged in a helping of blackberry ice cream and said it was great. Nick was disappointed at not seeing a single bear although a rattle snake scared the stink off him (HAHA! Nothing can scare the stink off an Appalachian Trail hiker. It takes a hot shower and lots of soap).
He has continued to enjoy episodes of trail magic, including a hiker who was toting a 6-pack of beer and ice and shared it with everyone in the shelter.
Ron and I got to provide a little trail magic ourselves. When we dropped Nick back at the trail, we met Padre, a through hiker going from north to south. He needed a ride to Food Lion in Front Royal so we took him there and I gave him some home-made brownies. Nothing can make you feel more appreciated than giving a hiker home-made baked goods!
Rockfish Gap, VA — Mile 390
Rockfish Gap? Who knew I would one day be in a trailhead parking lot there awaiting for Nick to emerge from the Appalachian Trail. I only had to wait about 10 minutes for him to appear. Bearded, stinky and very skinny—Nick displayed all the hallmarks of an AT hiker!
We stayed the night in Staunton at a hotel that mercifully had a coin-operated washer and dryer. Unfortunately, Nick’s back pack could not be washed. Whew does it smell.
Nick regaled me with tales of his last 215 miles, including two encounters with rattle snakes, one bear and a slightly demented hiker. Nick or Country Roads as he is known, hiked a while with a man who seemed okay but progressively got nuttier. Nick picked up his pace until he put about 10 miles between them.
Fortunately, most hikers are awfully nice, like the couple he met from Alexandria Virginia. They hiked together for two days and it wasn’t until the very end Nick discovered he and the husband were at the College of William and Mary together. “What does he do?” I asked. “Mom,” Nick said with some derision, “You don’t share personal information on the trail.” That comes later since everyone seems to stay connected on Facebook.
I have learned from Nick about “trail magic.” Apparently when things get bleak, trail magic often intervenes. Nick said he was sitting curbside on the Blue Ridge Parkway (the trail and parkway are in close proximity at times), discouraged that the stream he had to use for water was very muddy. A motorcyclist slowed down and tossed him an ice cold bottle of water. At another point, a gentleman and his son invited him to their picnic and Nick enjoyed water, fruit and a homemade sandwich. I plan to return the favor when I come across a hiker. However, if they smell as bad as Nick, I won’t be sharing a picnic with them.
Fulfilling my role as a human pack mule, I took Nick to the grocery store to stock up. I am getting good at this and automatically steer the cart to the right aisles. Pouches of chicken and tuna, packaged noodle dinners, individual oatmeal servings, peanut butter, honey…the objective is to get the most calories with the least packaging. Lessening the weight of the backpack is a big deal. Nick bought a new toothbrush. He hacked off part of the handle to make it lighter.
I asked Nick what he thinks about while trudging 10 or 15 miles a day. Does he think about the wonders of the trail, the beauty of the scenery? Or how about the juxtaposition of hiking a wilderness trail within spitting distance of major highways and population centers? “No, Mom,” he replied. “I think of food.” He has already requested a steak for his welcome home dinner.
I dropped Nick back at Rockfish Gap on Saturday and he plans to be home on Labor Day, September 1. That means he intends to cover 156 miles in 9 days. Ron and I plan to meet him in Front Royal (mile 492) for lunch and we may help him “slack pack.” This means we take his backpack and then drive to a rendezvous point further down the trail. By shedding his backpack for a while, Nick can cover more ground in a shorter amount of time.
I am happy to help Nick slack pack but that backpack is going in the trunk of the car with plenty of deodorizers.
Pearisburg, VA – Mile 174
My husband and I met Nick near Pearisburg (population 2800) on August 1. After 174 miles of hiking the Appalachian Trail, Nick needed a hot shower. I booked us into the Woods Hole Hostel, located only ½ mile off the trail in a remote mountain area. Nick stayed in the bunk room for $15 a night (mattresses available on first come, first served basis). Fortunately the hostel offers a REAL room for those less hardcore visitors ($75 per night with breakfast). The owners are trying to live off the land so the vegetables, eggs and meat come from their farm. Their cat is living off the land too, appearing at breakfast one morning proudly mouthing a dead chipmunk. (“You don’t see that at Holiday Inn Express,” I whispered to my husband after we all held hands and gave thanks for life’s blessings.)
Another guest, Pace Maker, joined us. Anyone hiking the AT earns a trail name. Pace Maker is an obvious choice for a grandfather who has suffered 3 heart attacks. Pace Maker, like Nick, is a sectional hiker, someone who is doing different parts of the trail at different times rather than hiking the entire 2000 miles in one outing. Nick hiked a while with High Roller, a hiker who found a poker token on the trail. Nick has yet to accept a trail name although other hikers have suggested Connoisseur because of his meal choices and Sleepy because he dozes late into the morning.
Nick was already at the hostel when we arrived. Nick texted earlier in the week telling us to be sure to bring two essential items from home: toe nail clippers and his harmonica. On Saturday we travelled to Blacksburg, a 40 minute drive, to see the town, visit a local trail outfitters and buy food at Walmart. Nick decided to buy a sleeping bag because it was much colder at night than he expected.
After spending $80.00 on food supplies (more tuna, chicken chunk packets, nectarines, dried fruits , instant oatmeal and other assorted delectable), we returned to the hostel, Late Sunday morning , Nick (aka Sleepy Connoisseur) returned to the trail with his 50 pound backpack, new sleeping bag and freshly clipped toe nails.
Ron and I drove home. We will meet Nick again in 10 days around Buchanan, Virginia at mile 278. This will mark the half-way point of his trek.
My friend Bill once asked me to join him on his through hike of the 2200 mile Appalachian Trail. I told him I don’t backpack and I don’t do arduous hikes. “I know,” Bill said. Apparently he read an article that stated only 1 in 8 people who start the Appalachian Trail actually finish. Bill decided to corral 7 hiking companions who would fail early to increase the odds of his success.
The Appalachian Trail has reentered my life thanks to my adult son, Nick. He is hiking the length of the trail through Virginia, a total of 550 miles. Nick did not even bother asking me to join him. But I am still a critical part of his hiking adventure. Along with my husband, we are his re-supply team. We are meeting him at pre-arranged locations to provide him food and camp supplies.
There are many accounts of hiking the Appalachian Trail (the funniest has to be Bill Bryson’s “A Walk in the Woods.”) I am using this blog to share my adventures as a human pack mule.
Nick’s hiking adventure started on Sunday, July 20 at that well know camping outfitter, Harris Teeter grocery store. We were visiting my daughter in Winston Salem, NC. My husband and I planned to drop Nick in Damascus, Virginia the following day so he could walk home 550 miles to Harpers Ferry, WV.
Nick had to carry 7-10 days’ worth of food to get him to the first resupply rendezvous in Pearisburg, Virginia (mile 164). I joined him at Harris Teeter to buy essential items like tuna fish, pasta dinners, packets of oatmeal, peanut butter, powered drink mix, granola, rice, chocolate and fruit. Watching his selection of food reinforced my decision never to backpack. The total bill came to $78.00. The most costly item was a gift from me: Starbucks Via Italian dark roast instant coffee packets. That little item rang up at $7.99. I regard coffee as essential as toilet paper when dealing with the great outdoors so I happily paid the price.
Damascus, Virginia: The Beginning
We drove to Damascus, Virginia on Monday, July 21. The Appalachian Trail goes right through the downtown. Damascus (population 2800) also lies along the very popular Virginia Creeper Trail, a multi-purpose rail trail that extends 35 miles. The town is filled with businesses catering to hikers and cyclists. Most of the Appalachian Trail through hikers were long gone. They had to pass through Damascus in May to avoid a winter arrival in Maine, the trail’s terminus.
Nick shouldered his backpack (weight: 40 pounds) and started walking. My husband and I joined him for approximately 15 minutes until we decided heading back to an ice cream stand in town was a better option.
It took Ron and me about 4 hours to drive home to West Virginia It will take Nick 6 weeks to cover the same distance on the Appalachian Trail. I could only admire his gumption as I sipped my Starbuck’s Latte and set the cruise control to 70 mph.
More to come when we meet Nick at mile 164 of his trek.
I had a serious talk with my just-returned-home adult son to remind him that his room is equipped with dresser drawers and a closet. This advice has gone unheeded for three weeks. Perhaps a piglet would find happiness in his room.
In the meantime, we have a critter arriving at night to raid our farm cat’s food and scare poor Cleo into the hosta bushes. The live trap caught Cleo the first night, a skunk the second night and a weasel or some such varmint on night three.
Adult son left his job teaching English in Chile and returned home to the United States. I prepared a room for him, collecting errant stink bugs, dusting and vacuuming the rug. Here is the finished product. It took less than 24 hours for the rug to disappear beneath his belongings. I will post this same shot again in a week and see if more of the rug is visible.
I consider our kitchen door a magic portal.
When my adult children come to visit, they walk through the kitchen door and immediately assume their teenage persona. This is not good. The teen years involved lots of loving reminders from me such as I AM NOT YOUR SERVANT SO PICK UP AFTER YOURSELF and PLEASE PUT YOUR DIRTY DISHES IN THE DISHWASHER and IS IT ASKING TOO MUCH TO CARRY YOUR SHOES UPSTAIRS?
My adult daughter now has her own house. During my first visit, she chastised me for not rinsing out my dirty coffee cup. “Is this yours?” she asked menacingly when I dropped my coat on a chair instead of hanging it up.
Somehow this attention to neatness disappears when adult daughter visits home. I can only surmise it is because our kitchen door magically transports her to days of yore when she felt quite comfortable leaving everything from hair encrusted pony tail holders to soccer cleats in the living room.
Next visit, my children use the front door.
When I was a youngster, my parents trusted my older brother to babysit me. Hank decided I would enjoy watching a horror movie with him. I sat mesmerized as grasshoppers munched grasses fertilized by radioactive waste. They immediately grew as high as Godzilla’s eye. Roaming freely in cities and town, they ate anything that moved, developing a particular fondness for human flesh. The menacing sound of their legs and antennae rubbing together signaled their arrival.
I spent the next two weeks panicked by any sound resembling the call of the Grasshopper Leader to “get the humans.” My brother spent the next two weeks grounded in his bedroom.
I overcame my lingering fear of unnatural creatures to attend the 2013 Mothman Festival in Pt. Pleasant, West Virginia. This took a great deal of courage on my part because unlike those giant grasshoppers of my youth, MOTHMAN ACTUALLY EXISTS!!!!!!
Mothman made his debut in November, 1966 at a defunct munitions factory in Pt. Pleasant. The giant creature‘s signature features are blazing, ruby red eyes and wings that measure 10’ across when open. He can achieve speeds of 100 mph. The two couples who saw him signed lengthy depositions swearing they barely escaped his wrath. Soon after this incident, dogs started disappearing and mutilated cattle started appearing. Over 100 sightings were reported and some folks swore they heard Mothman land on their roofs.
The biggest catastrophe attributed to Mothman is the collapse of the Silver Bridge in December 1967. Engineering reports attribute the disaster to a single rusted eyebar. When it cracked, the suspension bridge cables snapped, sending the bridge and dozens of cars into the Ohio River. More than 40 people died.
A witness camped near the bridge who enjoyed drinking his dinner from a brown paper bag, swore he saw Mothman right before the collapse. Certified UFOlogist John Keel said he received a call warning him to stay away from the bridge and thinks it may have been Mothman. Good thing Mr. Keel did not mistake Mothman for a telemarketing operator.
The Mothman Festival features speakers on Mothman and other spooky phenomena. Apparently, West Virginia is a hotbed of weird, cosmic events. According to one speaker, the former lunatic asylum in Weston is the largest haunted area in North America. Seneca Rocks and the former penitentiary in Moundsville also host spirits.
While imbibing Mothman margaritas (a god-awful concoction of green liquor with cherries embedded in lemon slices for eyes), my husband and I realized we had visited most of our state’s cosmic hotspots. We even spent an evening in the Moundsville penitentiary with lots of ghost hunters who were holding machines to record interdimensional shifts. Ron and I only had flashlights, as we were more worried about tripping over something in the pitch black building and ending up in the afterlife ourselves. We were accompanied by my friend Carol who considers herself something of a ghost hunter as she has seen all the episodes of “Ghost Whisperer.”
There have not been any sightings of Mothman recently but no matter. He has become a reason to visit Pt. Pleasant. The town is enduring rough times; about 1/3 of the downtown buildings are vacant. The Mothman festival attracts people from all over the United States. We met folks from Michigan, Connecticut and Ohio. Hundreds of people attended the lectures.
Mothman may be in hiding but he might come out if the local chamber of commerce honors him as businessman of the year.
Back in the day, you never went wrong
With a long brown extension cord (with more than one prong).
An appliance or lamp too far from an outlet?
One extension cord and problem solved, without a doubtlet.
Now many different cords are needed for various devices,
Which cord goes where? Take your best guess, it’s like rolling the dices.
My iPad and iPhone each have a cord
One in the car lets mapquest talk us forward.
I thought I misplaced the cord for my Kindle,
It reappeared after I paid $19.99 for a new one (cords cost a bindle!)
Add my Sony walkman to the mix,
And the number of cords is now up to 6.
BUT WAIT, THERE”S MORE.
The portable hard drive I ordered to keep my files from disappearin’
Comes with its own USB cord : now we’re up to 7.
I thought I was finished with cords until I made the questionable decision
To show power point presentations by putting my iPad into commission.
I made multiple visits to Staples and Best Buy
To figure out terms like VGA and HDMI.
After scouring the net and talking to people under 30,
I developed a plan and followed it with certainty.
I bought a projector, more modern than my 1970’s Carousel,
Featuring an HDMI port and instructions only barely intelligible.
I paid $30.00 for an HDMI cord to connect my iPad to the projector
(No wonder Apple makes so much money in the technology sector!)
Additional cords complete the projector’s circuitry,
Including one labeled “6501HL1BCVB”
My home office now features cords of every length and description,
To tell you they’re organized would be outright fiction.
In Greek Mythology, Medusa’s head is ringed with snakes writhing in hoards,
I am a modern Medusa. Just replace the snakes with cords.