Virginia is Flat, They Say. It Will Get Easier, They Say.

Who are “they”? Seriously. Who ARE “THEY ”?

In my humble opinion, “they” are an enigmatic group of spectators who surmise 1,000 feet of gain over a single mile to the parking lot outside of your local Kroger’s.

“They” lie.

About the elevation. About the weather. About the fact that we need to talk ourselves into traversing undertakings that bring us more distress than they do joy.

The Virginia Triple Crown consists of 3 climbs in sequence within the Blue Ridge Mountain range along the Appalachian Trail, creating an absolutely iconic hiking experience. This 32 mile loop in Roanoke’s foothills houses Dragon’s Tooth, McAfee Knob, and Tinker Cliffs, listed in succession, heading Northbound.

As I approached Dragon’s Tooth, I stared towards the heavens at its pointed crest, making me feel like a minnow in the most empowering of ways. I had seen this obligatory photo before… Ya know- the one where the hiker stands atop its tooth-picked peak, arms raised in victory, fearless. Laissez-faire. Seemingly unbothered by the abrupt drop offs that threaten their left and right. I tried. Four feet shy of its summit, I felt the blood quickly drain from my brow straight to my gut. Clammy and squeaking with anxiety, I cradled myself into a fossilized nook that was made for my rear and parked it. I was paralyzed. My breath labored, I desperately barked to my Tramily, “If I lay indefinitely critically ill, please send an edible arrangement, I’ve always wanted to receive one. If I fall to my death, blue hydrangea at the funeral. Roger that?”.

I had climbed all but 48 inches of the 4.6 mile summit, when I reached both a literal and figurative end to my joy. When a willing engagement becomes more stressful that it does exciting, then we have the permission to stop. We have absolutely nothing to prove. In fact, it’s sexy when we go our own way, staying true to the lyrics of Fleetwood Mac.

My sister was just gifted an invitation to fly high in a helicopter over the seas of Hawaii but was torn between her grave fear of heights vs. a missed opportunity. “Rachel, you don’t have to do anything that doesn’t spark joy. Don’t go. You can be the woman who goes to Hawaii and doesn’t take flight.” Boom. Mind. Blown.

She stayed behind and had no regret.

Stay true to yourself, not the Joneses.

I slid down the tooth of this dragon on my bottom, infallibly maintaining 3 points of contact. Then I changed my gutchies.

As we marched through the Blue Ridges, passing clusters of day hikers with our heads held high and our chests bumped, we gained an air about us. They were only out for the afternoon, or at most the night, smelling of patchouli and donning perfectly matched Lululemon attire, having secured a sitter for their time away from home. We flew past them as they considered us godly beings. After all, we had been walking since March. Just as a pilot struts through the airport, a surgeon through the corridors of the operating room, or the lead vocalist returning for their encore, we paraded. We were beasts, they insisted as such, in complete awe.

Until I landed on all fours, canine-like, sniffing dirt under the weight of my pack after clumsily tripping over the protruding root of a Frasier Fir. The Tram calling me “Serentripity”, or now “Trips” for short, I ate my deservingly huge slice of humble pie. Yum.

9% of thru hikers will contract Lyme’s disease via tick transmission. The ticks are RIPE right now folks. Last Wednesday, just within my squad, we plucked 6 ticks from our loins. Our legs, to be exact. Control what you can. Check yo’ self.

The trail has already permanently branded each of us in paralleled, yet unique ways. Me, with a scar covering my left index finger in the aftermath of the fungus that was among me, and River and Rooster hitching to Vegas from Tennessee to wed and begin a life together off-trail. They met crossing paths while hunting for non-perishables at Fontana Dam’s sole general store, a short 2 months ago.

Scars are tattoos with stories.

Also tattooed are the people who continue to care for me from afar. Pepper, Wallflower, and I walked into Daleville’s Post Office to be greeted by Ben, “There you are! I’ve been waiting for you!”. The boxes that had been collecting for me were occupying every last span of his available shelving. A good problem to have, the Tramily refers to my perpetual cardboard stacks of love, “Dips’ fan club strikes again!”. Snail mail aside, a stew of childhood friends, besties, and colleagues secretly joined forces in fostering funds to treat my Tramily to a surprise. 2 nights of hotel costs covered for the 8 of us, anonymously, sparing us from sleeping under the stars after a 25 mile day of mountain hopping. A surprise indeed, I was brought to tears.

This was my decision. Why were folks eager to fund my wanderlust, sacrificing their own gain? It must be love. To love my posse is to love me. Support me. Walk with me.

And walking was the meat of last week. 94 miles in 6 days, ending with a 25.1 mile day into Daleville at 10:15pm. The lessons to be learned when pushed to the limits of comfort are invaluable. I changed the conversation with myself- thanked the climbs for making me stronger, thanked the skies for choosing not to share its rain after dusk, thanked my comrades for staying behind me, thanked my headlamp for not dying when others’ did- at least we had one light to share. Then I wished immediate death upon each and every insect that was hungry for the strobe coming from my forehead. Remorseful, I turned to Wallflower, “Do you think that bugs have feelings?”. He answered, in our newfound British accent nonetheless, “They deserve to die.” After hiking for 14 hours and completing the Triple Crown, we were going mad.

The true character of a man is measured when under duress. When the going’s not tough, it’s effortless to be a peach.

I vigilantly check price tags before I grant entry into my shopping cart. I go for the “5 for 5’s”. The “Honey Nut O’s”. Cheerios are just a name. Produce is a delicacy. Why pay for the organic lack of chemical fertilizers when I’m eating Little Debbie’s for lunch and am 6 days past a shower? I’ve relearned to adhere to the strict budget that I was admittedly guilty of losing sight of once lucrative in my career. Sobered by this reality, I give invitation to my reconnection to those less fortunate. The trail knows no system of class. It’s remarkable.

The hills of Southern Virginia have different personalities than their Tennessee, North Carolina and Georgian cousins. The ascents more abrupt, the descents bouldered, yet the straightaways breezy and with more length than before, providing extended reprieve. Think lake life interrupted by intermittent tsunamis. With 295 miles left in Virginia and only 150 miles to the Southern terminus of Shenandoah National Park, North I’ll continue.

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“Remember the words you were told when this last adventure began, the words whispered quietly to your heart: Let the journey unfold. Let it be magical. The way has been prepared. People will be expecting you. Yes, you are being led.”

~Melody Beattie

Bridge over Pearisburg, 5/30

Friends & Family Diner, Pearisburg

Business casual attire, courtesy of Goodwill, as I waited for my tank from home 👔

Wilderness Bob made a reminder bracelet for me out of paracord before we parted ways, telling me that it can’t come off until Katahdin. Yes, Sir!

The “KEEP GOING” bracelet that Nicole had made for me caught on my pack strap as I was leaving Bear Garden Hiker Hostel, sending the beads flying 💥! I prayed to St. Anthony, as Gram would have me do. On my hands and knees, in the lawn, I found all but the “K”. I am now “GOING PEE”.

This, I am indeed

Sunshine does 22 push ups each morning to promote awareness for veteran suicide prevention

And then we purchased Nerf guns… It can get monotonous, OK?!?

Dinner at Bailey Gap Shelter on Memorial Day. Sheerin’s dehydrated peppered chicken mixed with roasted garlic instant potatoes

Pepper, myself, Wallflower and Wandering Cowboy atop Kelly Knob, 6/1

3 miles shy of our 19 mile goal, I momentarily collapsed for my second wind alongside VA Route 42. 6/1

Camped in an Apple Orchard under a 300 year old tree, 6/1

6/2

Yup. Walkie talkies. Uh huh. With their 16 mile range, they’ve allowed us to communicate when cell reception hasn’t

Wallflower, myself, BZ

Brushing while stretching the piriformis, Trout Creek 6/3

💯 7x!

7️⃣0️⃣0️⃣🧨

Dragon’s Tooth, 6/3. I filmed “Dragon’s Tooth, Part Deux” (video, above) from the ledge where Wallflower is standing in this photo, for reference

I spy 7 hikers hiding, can YOU ??

Descent from Dragon’s Tooth

Off-trail to Catawba Market for lunch, BLT for me🥓 🥬 🍅 !

Fresh-faced in the morning, there are zero hair ties in my weave. Grimy enough to stand on its own. This is me

You may think that I’m pictured freshly showered. Nope. Just sweat-logged after climbing to McAfee Knob 💦

Tramily on McAfee Knob, the most photographed peak on the AT

McAfee Knob, 6/4

And again… 🙆🏻‍♀️

Pepper picked from a wild cherry 🍒 tree!

Tinker Cliffs, 6/4

Night hike into Daleville, 6/4

Burritos up in lights after 25 miles. Praise BE 🙌🏼!

A well-deserved Jarritos Fruit Punch and a 22oz. Negro Modelo!

A 2 mile hitch to the Post Office with “Admiral”. Pepper, Wallflower and I sausaged into the passenger seat while he secured his portable washer/dryer combo onto the roof of his station wagon. After a quick stop at the auto mechanic, we were on our way to pick up our mail drops. Geezo…

Stacked with rain mittens, Teva camp sandals, summer PJs, homemade protein bars from the kitchen of Debbie & John, shower supplies & snacks galore from my Presby fam, and a week’s worth of gourmet dehydrated dinners from my Dougie at the O.R. pharmacy!

A box of care from Angel, complete with my FAVORITE Five Points Bakery granola, a much needed hair comb, CBD tincture for my ankle, and Pittsburgh’s famous Nancy B’s chocolate chip 🍪

Ginny & Timmy offered us a hitch to Cracker Barrel for breakfast if we wouldn’t mind stopping at the dry cleaner with them on the way. Ginny is holding up her son’s navy blazer from when he was a child to have cleaned for his son, her grandson ♥️

Crocs 🇺🇸 sent home and traded for these open-toed Tevas. My feet need as much air flow as possible when not hiking to aid in the healing of my Pitting Keratolysis

Individual (what a find !!!!) honey packets from my ride or die, my Beef, the namer of my alter ego- Sara Fauls 🗽

Angel 💌

Love you Beefy ♥️

Holly B-H made it RAIN mayo packets 🙌🏼! In the words of Bill Bryson, thru hiking the Appalachian Trail yields the opportunity for frequent “low level ecstasy”. Mayonnaise. A shower. 10 toenails.

Congrats River & Rooster 💍 Tied the knot in their trail runners and cargos!

Resupplying in pajamas, dualing as town clothes. Florals and African elephants can co-exist on trail

Weir for the win! Thank you, friend 🧼!

Karla is the housekeeper at the Super 8 in Daleville and brings her daughter, Allison, to work with her each day because she doesn’t have childcare. She was so proud to help her Mama, they truly touched me with their spirits. I snuck Allison a few dollars for her hard work, she felt important. Seen. My favorite part of the weekend in town

Pepper

BZ lost our wing eating contest 🥉