Staunton . . . An Epic Day 2

Saturday morning, I walked Lola to Gypsy Hill Park. Like everything in Staunton, the park is very well maintained. But that doesn't mean they can get away with a pun like this:


In case you can't tell, on the swimming club grounds, there are hundreds of decorative deer. And a banner that reads:

Field of Deer . . . in Honor or in Memory of Our Dear Ones

Puns are not appropriate for sentiments like that.

The weather was crazy warm, so we headed out to hike Elliots Knob. At over 2400 feet, this mountain is one of the highest in Virginia. We didn't figure on doing all 8.5 miles-- the description said that would take at least five and a half hours-- but we wanted to at least see the waterfalls and a couple of good views of the valley.

Then we talked to an old guy with a couple of hunting dogs in a truck at the trailhead.  He said we'd have no problem making it to the top. I told Catherine I would consider going all the way, but if after two hours we were still walking uphill, I was heading down. That seemed reasonable.

Soon enough, we saw some waterfalls. This was when we were on the Falls Hollow Trail.


On and on we hiked, higher up the mountain and deeper into the woods. An animal poked its head onto the trail and Lola ran it off. I thought it looked like a small wild German Shepherd. Cat thought it might have been a large gray fox. 

Later on the hike, with the help of some locals, we learned that the animal was actually a coyote. In the Blue Ridge Mountains, coyotes look like this:

Lovely Blue Ridge Coyote

This coyote behaved like a proper wild animal and ran away when it saw humans and a dog. That's why we had trouble identifying it. We are used to Jersey coyotes, and they don't behave at all. They bite people and dogs alike, and they will stand their ground until the police shoot them.

They also look mangier . . .

Dirty Jersey Coyote
As we went up, the weather kept getting hotter and hotter. The trail widened and there were many views. Our mood was optimistic about making it to the top. I even took an artistic selfie of Cat and me.


Artistic selfie by Dave
Then we left the woods and hit the final stretch to the top: a gravel fire road which some folks we met described as "very steep." They advised us to take frequent breaks. The Falls Hollow trail through the woods was no longer navigable, so if we wanted to get to the fire tower at the top, we had to head up this road. We had only been hiking for an hour and twenty minutes, and though we were tired, I figured we would make it to the top in my two-hour window. So off we went.


Walking up the gravel fire road was brutal, but the top seemed so close. We just kept trudging away. Lola was fine. Four legs are better than two. We passed the two-hour mark, but we were so close that we kept going. It took us 2.5 hours to get to the tippy top. My legs hurt and I felt old.

Then I saw some actual old people at the base of the fire tower. They were making soup. It was inspirational. They said they came up in all kinds of weather. They were decked out in serious gear and had a lot of cooking equipment. They were having a grand time. We chatted with them for a while-- they had seen the production of Midsummer Nights Dream we were going to see-- and they taught us how to pronounce Staunton properly (don't say the "u"). They also convinced me to climb the fire tower-- I was done climbing but they said the view was worth it. Cat and I both did it and they were correct.

Whew
Going down the fire road was painful . . . way too steep, but once we got into the woods we flew down the rest of the way. We passed the young couple that started ahead of us, the girl was holding the small of her back as she walked and she said she was really feeling it.

We drove back to Staunton and stopped at Queen City Brewing, a brewpub with outdoor seating right by our place. We sat outside and had some delicious celebratory beers and talked to some locals. We learned that it's near impossible to buy any houses in central Staunton-- no one is selling-- and that if you do own one of those houses, you can't breathe on it the wrong way. Everything has to be historically accurate and such. We learned this from some retirees. They loved the town and the vibe.

Then we talked with a couple of Harley guys. They were youngish, wearing black leather, sported beards, and appeared to be tough motherfuckers. But one of them was quite chatty. He said he didn't know our politics and wouldn't hazard a guess-- which we found hysterical-- a couple hiking with a dog from New Jersey, excited to see a Shakespeare play should sound off some liberal alarms, but he forged ahead and started talking about how he didn't like the direction the town was going.

He was worried Staunton was going to enact some gun control laws that wouldn't allow AR-15s and handguns that could hold more than ten bullets. The surrounding counties had become "Second Amendment Sanctuaries,"-- an interesting play on that word-- but he was worried Staunton was going to become like Charlottesville. Liberal! We told him we didn't have much of a gun culture up in central New Jersey and we didn't really know the ins and outs of these laws. Sometimes it's best not to express your opinion.

Then we talked about the terrible state of I-81-- he was a truck driver-- and how he had lived in Baltimore for a while and it wasn't to his liking. His answer for most things-- crime in the cities, the deer population in New Jersey, coyotes, etc-- was more guns. But he was real nice about it. Through this entire discussion, his large bearded buddy said nothing. I think he mumbled something one time about what middle school he attended, but that was it. He just sat there and looked intimidating.

When we got in the car and started driving up the hill to our house, Cat and I parsed the whole weird interaction. Then we both said at once: "His friend was Silent Bob!"

Cat checked her phone and got a sad message. The play was canceled! The old couple on top of the mountain told us some of the cast was sick, and they were using understudies, so the sickness must have spread. We were disappointed, but also insanely tired and hungry. We hadn't eaten since breakfast. We went to Baja Bean Company for delicious and cheap Mexican food and then came home and watched a movie. While we missed watching with the kids, it was nice to select something without having a forty-five-minute debate, which is de rigueur for our house.

We watched Good Time, the movie by the same writers as Uncut Gems. Both highly recommended, if you can tolerate incredibly fast-paced bad decision making-- to the point where you want to bury your head in your hands and stop watching.

Everyone slept well-- including the dog-- after an epic day two in Staunton. Catherine actually got some sun on her chest it was so warm.

4 comments:

Johnny G said...

Heh, heh. The sign in the 6th picture says "Elliot[s] Knob."

Professor G. Truck said...

Much more impressive than Jason's knob

Whitney said...

The camp Stew and I went to as young lads was in Goshen. We would hike up Mt. Elliott every summer. Nice views. Occasional rattlesnakes. Which we ate one year.

Professor G. Truck said...

rattlesnake stew?

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