I started driving at 4:40 am after listening to the service attendant crack jokes and try to charge me for yawning, and the truckers talked about their rigs. Today is my last day on the road before meeting up with Caleb and his family, so I take a direct route to the Virginia border from Knoxville. Once in the state, I stick to the two-lane road for half the distance before getting on the 460, which will deliver me to Hampton Roads. This metropolitan region includes Virginia Beach, Norfolk, Chesapeake, and Newport News.

It’s still 68°F when I stop for a walk at Creekside Park and find myself on the Virginia Creeper Trail, the old Abingdon Branch of the Norfolk and Western line. Here, in Damascus, is one of the six remains of the water tanks that the steam trains required every 40-50 miles. There are only concrete pylons left as the tanks were dismantled after the diesel locomotives were introduced in 1958. Another notable path is the Appalachian Trail, which passes through Main Street, making it a great spot for Trail Days.

This event has been held every year since 1987, the weekend after Mother’s Day (in May), for thru-hikers, trail supporters, and enthusiasts. This town of less than 800 residents provides a place for some 20,000 vendors, hippies, and musicians to gather and celebrate the outdoors and the gear that makes surviving the wilderness more bearable. I feel like a local, being one of the few people along the creek or in town. I get to meet a guy and his three rats, though only two said hi, as rats do.

After this, I climb the 23 stairs and continue climbing over roots and logs towards Iron Mountain on the official AT. The southern terminus is Springer Mountain, GA, so I’m roughly at mile 471. Hiking in the forest is always a great adventure, especially with mushrooms with the names: amethyst deceiver, the sickener, and golden oyster. I see a millipede hiding in the moss, but it’s harder to identify. The Crooked Road is Virginia’s Heritage Music Trail, another for Trail Town USA.

It’s 330 miles of venues and festivals that keep the history of blind balladeer Horton Barker, Sparkplug of The Hill Billies, the Sweet Brothers, the Rugby Gully Jumpers, and the old-time banjoist Jont Blevins alive from when they played in the 1930s. They performed for many venues — the White House, on the streets, at fiddlers’ conventions, and local radio shows. There is an annual competition that supports a scholarship for learning traditional music — old-time mountain, country, and bluegrass.

I pass a groundhog (Marmota monax) which is a species of marmot also called a woodchuck; they are defined as a large, stout-bodied ground squirrel. I also see a Little Free Food Pantry, a community program started in 2016 by Jessica McClard in Arkansas. They have since spread to Canada, Italy, the Netherlands, Australia, and Thailand, with some including a cooler or fridge, a microwave, and others including toiletries, baby products, and pet foods.

Grassroots initiatives can meet the local needs with a speed and personability that big government isn’t structured to provide because they’re better at building highways and hospitals (just not always on time or where they’re needed). Enter, the Blue Ridge Parkway. I stopped at a few views along the way and watched a raccoon cross lanes of traffic and make his way towards a tall field of green before we both carried on. I wish I had hiked there, but that would have put me in Virginia Beach too late.

I stop for more caffeine, a mocha Bang and a coconut water with espresso, to power through three hours on the highway. I get to Kris’s house around dinner time, have salad and pretzel bread, and then the kids, nieces and nephews, have s’mores. We’ll get back to the hotel room that the Navy is paying for hours later as his sister’s family and dad go to a nearby hotel as well. Even though today was long, I’ll stay up longer than necessary.