* * Climbing Pearis Mountain
People live busy lives and interests change over time. So it’s been hard for me to find friends to take part in activities that I enjoy like hiking our mountains. In the past couple of years, however, a graduate student in Aerospace Engineering at Virginia Tech has become a frequent companion on the trails. Kyle and I took the opportunity on a cold but clear day yesterday to climb one of the area’s most dramatic mountains.
I picked Kyle up at his apartment in town and headed north across Brush Mountain and Gap Mountain into Giles County. We drove into Pearisburg and parked at a car dealership that is only a few paces from the famous Appalachian Trial. We remarked how most trailheads are deep in the woods often on gravel roads, which this one was right in town. Very convenient!
The trail up Pearis Mountain is pancake flat for only the first 100 yards. But things quickly change. We began our ascent, working our muscles into climbing form. It was cold enough to require wool clothing, a jacket, and a hat. But the warmth of exertion had us balancing between being too hot and too cold.
Kyle is nearing completion of his Masters Degree and his defense of his thesis is only a couple of weeks away. He is a smart kid and I enjoy his knowledge and perspective. I was once an engineering student at Virginia Tech myself, so we always have much to talk about.
Half-way up the mountain, the trail was in places covered with a light dusting of snow. As we continued to climb, the snow was deeper in places and where boots had flattened it already it had become ice. I was using trekking poles to help maintain my balance but the going was strenuous. We stopped for several short breaks to catch our breath. The last hundred yards to the boulder-filled summit were particularly icy and treacherous, as the trail was on the northeastern slope where the low winter sun seldom warmed it. We reached the summit about 95 minutes from leaving the car. We stopped only briefly at the summit as it was shady, cold, and uninviting.
Kyle is 23 and I am 56. Given his youthful exuberance and fitness, I am no match for him in strenuous activities like climbing mountains. But he typically walks behind me. Were he in front, I couldn’t keep him in sight. Our conversations are stimulating and interesting.
We walked another half-mile on the ridgeline until we found an overlook to the south, providing expansive views and some warmth from the bright sun. We ate our lunch on a dramatic rock outcropping. We had seen some footprints in the snow before our own, but no other hikers. I found a nice pair of sunglasses on the trail but couldn’t envision any way to find their rightful owners. If they’re yours and you can identify them, I’m happy to give them back!
We returned to the summit and walked the short distance to the overlook called Angels Rest. There were three other hikers occupying that space, so we didn’t linger.
Last week, a member of my Rotary Club had admonished me for my hiking, saying she thought the danger was too great to risk injury before my big trip to South America in March. “Danger?” I thought. Geez, I do motorcycling and bicycling, both of which I consider more dangerous than walking the trails. However, on our way down, I wasn’t so sure. The ice was harder and slicker and downhill is always more treacherous than uphill. I fell harmlessly a couple of times. After one fall, I said to Kyle, “I just want to sit here for a moment and rest.”
We reached the car about four hours after leaving it, tired but happy to have spent time together in the great outdoors.
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