Tomorrow morning (early! We're getting up at 4 AM!) we'll be heading off to Virginia for the annual Trail Days celebration, a hiker festival extraordinaire. I've been to Trail Days many times over the years. Perhaps the most memorable was 2001, when I had been injured (see the side panel for the story) and was on crutches for the entire event. Well, not the entire event -- by the end of it I was walking without crutches for short distances, and shortly thereafter I got serious about physical therapy and got back on the trail.
Slogger and I bought our wedding rings at Trail Days, before we were married, for $8 each from a stall.
In 2003, the year Slogger hiked the AT, I met him in Damascus for Trail Days and hiked out with him. That year I was able to hike a month with him, before heading to Texas to visit my brother, his wife Lynne, and the newborn triplets (all boys!).
So, needless to say, we're looking forward to Trail Days. We'll be staying with our friends Trace and 1/3, who visited us in High Plains City a couple of years ago. It should be a blast!
I'll try to take some pics and post them when we get back.
Why a Bad Ass?
- Dr. Bad Ass
- In 2001, I thru-hiked the Appalachian Trail and collected data for my dissertation. I had taken the trail name "Turtle" as a symbol of my desire to be persistent, to be connected to the earth, etc. After about two months of hiking (400 some odd miles), I injured my piriformis -- a big muscle in my rear -- and left the trail for a month and a half of physical therapy. Yes, on my ass. The piriformis muscle, because it was injured, banged away on my sciatic nerve, making it impossible for me to sit, stand, lie down, or simply BE without pain. Just before my completely self-sacrificing, wonderful, and ever-lovin' spouse, Footslogger, showed up in Damascus, Virginia, to collect my sad self and take me to a hospital where I could get good drugs and some rest, a couple of hiking friends (Chris and Triple Slim) stopped by the drug store, bought a little stuffed donkey, and brought it to me in a paper bag. They said, "Your trail name used to be Turtle. Now it's (drum roll, please) Bad Ass Turtle." That donkey is now sitting on my desk, as a reminder for me to be who I truly am. Not just a bad ass, but Bad Ass Turtle. Want to email me? Try badassturtle(at)gmail.
Meez
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1 comment:
Sounds like fun. Have a great time.
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