Showtime’s Hike-In Theater

I’ll let you figure out the comedy formed by the titular acronym.

The last, say, 10 days of hiking have been some of the most difficult, but great nonetheless so far on my trip. I mentioned when I entered Virginia that it is mentally known to be a difficult state – I’ve not yet experienced that type of roadblock, rather I’ve been dealing with some physical setbacks.

It was about 10 days ago that I woke up with a sore throat. Off trail, I usually get sick once or twice annually whenever the seasons change. I immediately recognized the usual symptoms (sore throat caused by drainage, congestion, sinus headaches, etc).

Any type of illness on trail is more difficult to address than if it were to arrive in the comforts of home. First, while I do carry a first aid kit that I’m comfortable will keep me safe, it doesn’t include the usual OTC meds that help me to push through the season changing sickness. Second, at the outset of my cold, it was still regularly freezing at night, and snowing during the day. These types of conditions make it really challenging to shake a cold. Finally, especially in the season of COVID, extreme caution is necessary to ensure you’re not putting any other hikers at risk (I never thought I had COVID, but I’m no doctor and my first aid kit also lacks a rapid test).

I finally caught up to the group I’d been hiking with into Virginia just in time for the cold to be in full swing. I recognized my body needed rest, so after a day of hiking with them, I again had to say “goodbye for now” so that I could take a day off in Pearisburg, Virginia, and give myself some time to rest and recover.

I walked into Pearisburg cold, tired, hungry, and without a place to stay for the night (the cell signal had been weak in the days preceding this arrival). I began calling local motels and hostels, with no luck. The only option was a church run hostel, however, because I wasn’t feeling well, did not want to risk exposing others to anything contagious. I checked in the neighboring town of Narrows with the same result. I learned as a result of pipeline construction in the area, most lodging was fully booked for the foreseeable future. Finally, I found a pricey bed and breakfast four miles outside of town with an opening. Lacking any rideshare options, and losing daylight to arrange a shuttle, I began walking to the Inn at Riverbend on the tail of a 13 mile day.

The stay was lovely and provided the rest I needed, however, a big part of rest days and stopping in towns is completing the “trail errands” necessary to get to the next town. Grocery shopping, gear repair, laundry, and mail are the types of errands I’m referring to. When you’re staying 4 miles away from town and don’t have a car, however, it’s not exactly possible to get these things done. You either sacrifice your rest and walk, or stay put and get behind on chores.

I left the Inn (and walked the four miles back to the trail), hastily ran through my to-do list, and hiked eight miles out of Pearisburg to the first shelter I came to. I’d estimate I felt about 60% at this point, so the hiking was slow, and my morale was low. I got to camp with a group I’d met shortly before Pearisburg, which included a cast of characters by the names of Honey Badger, Ghost, Pickles, and Fire Daddy. I enjoyed their company and decided I’d stick with them the next day.

We were due for some heavy rain beginning around 2:00PM. I decided I was going to hike the 12 miles to the next shelter before the rain came, and stay there that night with this new crew.

I felt lousy. The weather was gnarly, the 12 miles was through a stretch of trail that had just reopened after a two month closure due to fallen power lines, and an ice storm had created a plethora of blow downs (think trees and branches across the trail that you have to step over or navigate around). As soon as I made it to the shelter, I set up my pad and quilt on the top level and crawled in for the better part of the afternoon. The rest of the gang trickled in throughout the day.

I’d heard of another member of the crew that I’d not met at this point, who’d been trying to catch up since taking three days off to go see a NASCAR race in Bristol, Tennessee. Today was the day he was finally set to catch up.

“I hear you got a trail name!” Honey Badger said as the new face entered the shelter. “I’m Showtime now,” he replied with a smirk.

The explanation for his name would become apparent that evening, as we experienced the grand opening of Showtime’s Hike-In Theater. Showtime had ordered a battery powered projector in Damascus, and it had finally arrived in Pearisburg. We rigged up a sheet of Tyvek (usually used as a groundsheet for a tent) in the shelter with some extra guyline, and watched Forrest Gump as it poured outside! It was unlike anything I’ve experienced to date on the AT, and I’d venture if it wasn’t a first on the trail, it was pretty darn close.

I’ve been on a positive trajectory since. I’ve been hiking with the same group, now inclusive of Showtime, on to Roanoke, Virginia, where we’re all taking a rest day.

I got the opportunity to hike with Ghost this week, and I thought he had really unique insight when I told him about hiking and being sick. You see, we’d both agreed that we’d not yet understood the “Virginia Blues”. Each and every day has been a new and wonderful adventure. Although the climbs have not been as dramatic, we’re seeing new wildlife, plants, and views each day. He commented that there had not been a single day so far on his hike that had been negative. I paused for a moment, as I tried to consider whether or not I agreed with that assessment. My recent trail illness was the only span that came to mind. “I almost agree,” I remarked, and explained that since we linked back up, I’d had a few days that weren’t overtly positive. “But it’s temporary, and you know it,” he replied. “I had some knee pain as well, and it definitely had a negative impact on those days of hiking, but no matter what, you knew eventually it would go away and heal. The day might have sucked in the moment, but the overall day was still positive and contributed to a positive experience.”

I like this way of thinking a lot. I don’t want to speak for anyone else, but my brain is not wired to remember the negative aspects of negative experiences. What I mean by this is, in the moment, easy experiences are pleasant and fun, but in hindsight, the negative experiences I’m able to overcome seem to be the ones that stick out the most. Further, the memory of “how bad it was” fades incredibly fast, and all that’s left is the memory of triumph over adversity.

I’m going to be intentional about keeping this frame of mind when things get tough. Even in hard times, when things are terrible, they won’t last forever, and when you make it out the other end, sometimes the memories of terrible moments are the most poignant.

Cheers,

Billy