Virginia's Triple Crown

Disclaimer:The photos included are possibly the worst representation of an otherwise beautiful and challenging route. Here is my journey:

The Triple Crown is a 35 mile route in western Virginia, just outside of Roanoke and is a truly beautiful section of the Appalachian Trail that encompasses 9,000 feet in elevation gain. Along the ridges and between the trees, there are no shortages of overlooks into the valley below; an intimate view into life on the farms below. Like Gods above the clouds, on these ridges and between these trees, I found myself a causal observer juxtaposed amongst the pine trees and rock ledges jutting out above the Catawba Valley. It was in this moment, as I watched clouds pass silently through the valley, that, unbeknownst to me, the Muir deep inside was awakened.

In October of 2013 my brother and I set off on our first hike. We were eager and confident, which turned out to be a bit misplaced but we were equally tenacious and even more excited. After considerable preparation and research, we pulled on our rucks and set off at the Andy Layne Trail head. The weight of our gear and the immediate elevation kicked us in the shorts. And by us, I mean me. We planned a four day hike, we amassed a staggering 45 pounds of gear, including water and food. In retrospect, our novice is amusing however, as we inched above our first 1000 feet of elevation, our novice became less amusing and more heavy. Stubborn(me) and vivacious(Aaron), we continued our climb. Zigging then zagging the switchbacks, crying (me) and laughing (Aaron) along the way.

We reached our first stop, Tinker Cliffs and after finding a suitable and scenic clearing along the rocks, we stopped for a rest. I should take a moment here to let you in on a little secret. I started the hike in a pair of boots that were awful. To be honest, it was no fault of the boot, it was my selection of footwear that really made this a chore and my feet were already starting to curse at me. The misplaced eagerness and confidence I mentioned earlier was rearing its ugly head but so was the tenacity and excitedness. We pressed on along the ridge and headed south towards McAfee's Knob through small meadows and clearings along the way.

The afternoon sun gave way to the early evening and we found a campsite just off the trail. It was in a small clearing at the base of a tall slab of rock that we settled in for the evening. Across the valley and to our west the sun disappeared behind the ridge, slowly slipping away with the moon in tow. There we were. Caught between the departing sun and the arriving moon, a small fire crackling between us and the forest around us made the only sound. It was peaceful and the silence was deafening and the whiskey: amazing. Those moments of quiet reflection in appreciation for the beauty that surrounds us are some of the best memories of my life and thankfully I didn't imbibe in too much whiskey; otherwise that moment could've been fleeting.

We woke up the following morning well before the moon pulled the sun into the sky. As we began to deconstruct the campsite, we couldn't help but notice the pungent smell of urine. Thankfully though, the delightful (blech) aroma was emanating from Aaron's tent. After much deliberation and accusations of midsummers night pranks, we concluded that at some point throughout the evening, an animal scurried onto the rocks towering above our tents and relieved itself. And to my relief, it was only on his tent. The next plan was to scamper up to McAfee's Knob and catch the sunrise and have a bit of breakfast before continuing on to Dragon's Tooth, the third and final leg of the Triple Crown route.

My feet, though, were quickly becoming a liability. Blisters were forming between my toes and on my heels but we pressed on through the early morning darkness. Our headlamps illuminated the path and we hurried to beat the sun. After more zigging and zagging, we punched through the tree line just below 3,000 feet and just in time for breakfast and the sunrise on the Knob. I wouldn't dare try to describe what I saw over the next couple hours there. It's something you have to experience for yourself, in that moment. It only exists in that moment. I will tell you though: it was breathtaking. And as the view, so my feet. Literally took my breath. Painful and excruciating blisters on which I hobbled up a couple thousand feet were not prepared for the 3,000 foot journey down the trail to Dragon's Tooth.

The fire road down the mountain seemed to be impossibly infinite, we were nearly out of water and I was nearly out of commission. We made the decision to call the rest of the hike off, never making it to Dragon's Tooth or completing the other half of the Triple Crown but it was in this defeat that I learned respect for elevation and for good boots and for a light load and the importance of whiskey. The fire road finally ended at Blacksburg Road on State Route 785 but the lessons and the memories will stay with me forever. Now its time to make your own.