What’s Old Is New Again
To be clear, I am not saying we are old (quelle horreur!) but I believe it is a safe claim to say that all the chicks on my recent girls’ trip are enjoying a sense of rejuvenation after five days together on the New River in Virginia.
Yall may remember the inaugural Chicks Trip to Montana in 2009 where we fished and ate and danced the hours away in Big Sky Country. Well, for the 3rd annual adventure we decided to try something new and journeyed to a friend’s farm in Mouth of Wilson, Virginia. This spectacular home overlooks the New River which enjoys a particularly ironic name since it is geographically one of the oldest river’s in the world, second only to the Nile. Apparently early Atlantic explorers didn’t know about this river until they stumbled upon it and fell into the ole, “well, it’s new to me” frame of mind, hence it’s misleading name.
The river is gorgeous. While we didn’t carve out time to fish on this trip, we did go kayaking which was heavenly. The water was clear, the scenery magnificent. At one point the seven of us linked kayaks, floated down the river aimlessly while I did a reading from my book. I read off a snippet from the manuscript I had printed out, folded and brought along in a ziploc. It was hilarious.
Yes, this mini portage gave me flashbacks to the Texas Water Safari.
The next day we scrambled to make egg salad, turkey wraps, guacamole and hummus as we prepared for an all day hike. I love this picture because it looks so farmlike. The truth is we bought these eggs at a grocery store in Winston-Salem and drove them up in a cooler. But just let me have my pastoral still life moment…
The views along the famed Appalachian Trail were stunning.
I was so excited to see the legendary white stripe that indicates you are on the Appalachian Trail.
No this is not a negative of the previous photograph. (Film? Wait, what’s film?) But doesn’t it look like an inverse of the iconic AT white stripe? In actuality it’s the hoof of the pony trying to eat a Clif Bar out of my waist pack.
You see, we weren’t the only ones hoofin’ it on the AT. The trail is home to herds of wild miniature ponies. Which is redundant but I have to emphasize how short these funny little creatures were.
This pregnant pony was particularly keen to have her Olan Mills moment.
Since we are in the 3rd year of these magical outdoor adventure trips, it’s safe to say a patterned has emerged. Along with the al fresca river-based activities, we always seem to do some mighty fine cooking. Below is a crumpled copy of the best potato salad recipe I have ever consumed.
And of course in addition to cooking and eating, there was the dancing.
Thank you Wind Rush Farm for a spectacular time of renewal and much love to all my chicks. Where should we go next?