Old Rag

A change of plans can be exciting, but it can also be challenging. I don't know why but I am one of those people that doesn't take it well. Maybe I get too invested in what I'm gonna do. I mentally prepare myself.

This past weekend, a change of plans snowballed into something much more. With no more visitors coming to see us, we "decided" to go hiking (not that I don't love hiking, seeing beautiful vistas, and feeling o-so-healthy...I also loathe hiking and all that comes with that other significant group of feelings). I loathe the distance, I loathe the looming aches and pains, and I loathe the comparison of my heavy breathing to Chase's as a canters up the mountains.However, this weekend has allowed me to view my abilities, my breakdowns, and short-comings in a whole new light.

In Route:

Old Rag. First off, why the hell is Shenandoah National Park's most popular hiking spot called "Old Rag". It sounds dirty. I don't like it and based on the grandeur and beautiful vistas, it could have been named better. Clearly, whomever named it never made it to the top. A likely outcome, based on what the trail looks like today (and that's with thousands of feet trampling it throughout the years) and what i imagine it to have looked like at its conception. In route, I realized that the hike was not the 4 mile hike that I had thought, rather it was 8.8 miles (to be it lightly, I was upset). Why were we driving to hike 8.8 miles at noon on Saturday? Did I mention we stopped to get cake? So there we are, high on sugar, aching bellies, dealing with my pissy nature, on our way to hike 8.8 miles.

Hiking:
I'd like to start this section about how "pumped" we both were to be hiking and how much I love getting some fresh air. I wasn't. I was a little upset, I think through the whimpering (bitching), Chase caught my subtle hint that I was not a happy camper. I'd also like to say that this lasted on mere minutes and then we were off to enjoy our hike. It didn't. It lasted...awhile. My favorite lines: "8.8 miles....WTF!!!", "Fu**ing 1 o'clock and were beginning a hike", and my personal favorite of the first portion of our hike, "We're gonna being hiking in the dark!!!" ( We packed headlamps, as if I had forgotten about this at some point).

The good news is that we made it through my crybaby antics, and luckily Chase decided he would hold out on killing me until another hike. Chase used a tactic that is frowned upon, but necessary: lying. He told me, as I walked away, up the trail, that the hike was only 5 miles. My mood immediately changed and I was feeling a skip in my step. We might not be hiking in the dark...with our headlamps.

Changing Times:

Over the years, I have mentioned, rather questioned my friends about an interesting occurrence in my life. Even at the most enjoyable moments and fun activities that I am fortunate to experience frequently, I choose to be in a foul mood. At times, it is brought on by some other incident, and yet sometimes I realize that I am being a total bitch for no reason, I just can't snap out of it. I listen to what I'm saying, how I'm saying it, and thinking "who is this bitch?". Luckily, on this particular day, I successfully snapped out of it.

The hike started to become fun. The scenery was beautiful and I was really enjoying myself. We had the opportunity to just chat, talk about stuff that mattered, mostly stuff that didn't matter at all, and generally enjoy each others company. The trail was changing and the rock scramble began. Now while some of you, who are not as "outdoorsy" as me, may not understand this rock scramble concept, allow me to explain. Rock scrambles are big-ass rocks, you must climb over, using all the techniques you learned from hours of watching Bear Grylls (three points of contact, AT ALL TIMES). While challenging at times, the rock scramble was so much fun and really rewarding. The vistas were getting better and better (as the sun got lower and lower).

Dusk:

Reaching the top, and realizing that we actually reached the top (despite assuming I already had, roughly 5 times already) was so rewarding. We spent approximately 4 minutes enjoying this beautiful vista, before we started our trek down the mountain, but not before we were met with some ultra-mountain-runner freaks, oh I mean athletes. A couple ran up on us, and passed us as they sprinted down the mountain. I started thinking about how great it would be to be in that great of shape to even be able to think about doing that, maybe one day...

The trek down the mountain was, dare I say, enjoyable. While I felt a significant amount of pressure to quickly get down to a fire road before it was completely dark, I did enjoy knowing that we were past the point of no return and when we were officially done, sitting in the car, we would have completed a hike that I had made impossible in my own naive mind. We reached the fire road just about the time old man moon peaked his head. Luckily, we had HEADLAMPS! Which, despite my earlier thoughts, provide light, allowing hikes to occur at night. The road back was easy enough and we reached the car after about 2.5 miles of wishing we were done and eating dinner. Chase's thoughts of food led us to a conversation about dinner locations for the last 4 miles and was reminiscent of the snickers commercials of men acting like divas when they're hungry.

Mellow:

We were now destroying our healthy-eating commitment for the second time in one day (cake eating fiasco, from earlier) at Mellow Mushroom pizza. We unabashedly dove into a pizza covered in toppings and my-oh-my did it hit the spot! We had finished an 8.8 mile hike. We deserved it.