A Virginia Jaunt: Luray Caverns, Shenandoah Bluegrass Festival, and Washington DC

I'm finally catching up to what happened the weekend of the 4th of July. My sister and I took a wonderful trip down to Virginia, travelling through six states in one day to the Shenandoah Valley. We arose early in the morning, took the train from Penn Station out to Newark airport where a rental car awaited us. Getting the car in Newark - my sister's idea, and a brilliant one - made getting out of Manhattan an absolute breeze and then continued drove the six hours to Virginia.

Meet our trusty caravan, the Pearl.

She took us down the road, singing the songs from "Muppet Treasure Island" and listening as we tried to impress each other with our knowledge - or lack thereof - of our nation's states and capitals. 

Our first day of three on the road, I ate more at McDonald's than I would ever like to again: once for lunch and then again to grab snacks. The rolo-McFlurry was thrust upon me because of the situation; though I was full, I had to get one because of the sheer rarity of the dulce delicacy. As the sweet caramel dribbled down my gullet, my innards wept with joy.

Not Central Park, if you catch my drift.

Onward. We passed through six states (New York, New Jersey, Delaware, Pennsylvania, West Virginia, and Virginia), and arrived at the KOA we had reserved. 

Note to self: never stay at a KOA. It's obviously not real camping. There were flush toilets, showers, laundry - which are tolerable - and a swimming pool, lodge to play billiards, buy popcorn, and rent movies, plus organized events like juggling and pancake breakfasts.

Worst of all, it wasn't very private. The place was packed. Couldn't commune with nature a whole lot.

After the tent was pitched, we took a jaunt over to the Luray Caverns, which I'm going to gloss over right now, just saying that it was beautiful. If you don't believe in God, believe in the power of nature and let holiness into your soul for a little while when you visit this natural cathedral. 

Dream Lake

 Note: if you want to become a real custard aficionado, forget a place like New York City. Go out into the country, drive around, and stop at every custard place you see. My sis is the real custarphile, and although she hasn't driven around on trips specifically for custard, her opinion is that the best places are in the country.

Addendum: my sis is a smart cookie. Trust her advice, especially when it comes to custard.

Stalacpipe organ

Afterwards, we went to the First Annual Oak Leaf Bluegrass and Mountain Music Festival in Luray, Virginia. It was my first time hearing bluegrass live! They can really get you going, make you feel the music in your blood. Some of it was much twang, other was not.

After the bluegrass festival, we spent a night on the hard earth - amidst the rain - then drove in the morning through Shenandoah Park and took a few hikes. Neither of them were very arduous, despite all of the waring about "strenuous mountain hikes" surrounding us.

We climbed the highest peak in Shenandoah Park, the Hawksbill. The short but steep trail was about 1.7 miles, and the round-trip was expected to take two hours. Intrepid, proud little me, I did want to see how quickly we could get up the hill. Armed with the knowledge that we've done in the West whatever the East has to offer, the sis and I started up. Twenty minutes later and through vast hordes of gnats, we arrived at the top.

It was awesome, except for the gnats. When the winds were still, the air was still thrumming with their sound. Multiple decibels were discernible to the sensitive ear; the closer the swarms were, the higher the pitch. Listen long enough, and your skin would start to crawl, but you cannot escape from the noise or the knowledge that there are so many insects in such close proximity to you, seeking you out and swarming around you.

After a rainstorm

The pictures above are misleading. They are not from the top of the Hawksbill. The pictures below, however, are from the Hawksbill! A portion of the longer, easier trail to the top actually joins up with the Appalachian Trail. Did you hear that? I hiked part of the Appalachian Trail! No, I wasn't pulling a Mark Sanford and secretly popping down to Argentina. I hiked the Appalachian Trail for about a mile! 

I also learned on that trip that the Trail is very, very long. Difficult to do the whole thing in a season.

It took us a good few hours to drive the 100 miles through the park, seeing as we stopped at every other turnoff to take pictures.

Once through the harrowing camera-trap of the Park, we started cruising up to DC, where we spent the night with my sis' friend, woke up late, went to lunch with another friend of hers, and then drove home just in time to watch the 4th of July fireworks on TV.

Oh, and something about diet Coke, rooftops, and bottle rockets. Perhaps mints of an unknown brand were also present.