Trail Days is a huge hiker festival held in Damascus, VA (see the Ducks and Damascus post about our previous adventures there). Trail days promises free food, outdoor booths, talks on the AT, music, a parade, and raffles. Everyone is welcome, but thruhikers or previous thruhikers make up the majority of the population. At first I wasn't sure I wanted to go as it seemed like it would be a hassle to get down to Damascus, but as more and more people talked about it, I figured out a plan. My mom would come out and hike with me for a week while Firefly went to her sister's wedding. We would begin our adventure at Trail Days, an educational and eye-opening introduction to the AT for my mom.
After traveling at most 3mph for the last two months, I equated cars with instant speed. I was surprised that it took two long hours to drive 150 miles back to Damascus, though it had taken almost three weeks by foot.
It was packed. I had expected it to be more like a reunion for past thruhikers, but was surprised to find how many current thruhikers swarmed the area.
According to a booth, it appeared 30 people ahead of me on the trail had made it down to trail days, and hundreds were behind me. Either people further north didn't make it down, or I was ahead of the big bubbles. My mom and I managed to avoid tent city, the party campsite where music blared til 2am, and set up near One Way Ministries, a lovely church group that offered free doctor visits for hikers, goody bags, food, movies, showers, and foot massages.
Ever eager to learn, I went to talks: listened to the second thruhiker ever tell stories, heard about the problems Baxter State Park was having with owning the northern terminus, learned about how the trail has changed from a few dedicated people to large masses of partiers, and found out about wild edibles on the trail. The talks were sparsely populated, with most of the audience being old thruhikers or locals. Many of the people my age chose to expand their minds in a different way with the aid of drugs and alcohol.
Sometimes I would leave a talk early to attend a raffle. I stood with the masses, all of us waiting with baited breaths, trying not to get our hopes up but straining our ears for our name or number to be called to win a new pair of boots, a tent, or a pack stuffed with goodies. Between calling numbers they threw out hundreds of free things: t-shirts, hats, day packs, camping bowls, spoons, and posters. It was literally raining gear. A t-shirt was headed in a perfect arc toward me where I stood in the back. It spun in slow motion as it descended to my outstretched hands. But it never reached them. A six foot tall dude behind me snatched it from over my head. Really? Are you kidding? Come on man, short people always are jipped, they never ever never ever rarely get anything because of people like you. The jerk. It was then I realized the cruelty of the world. Something landed at my feet but the girl in front of me stooped to get it, and though I could have claimed it I let her take the prize. Maybe I am just too nice. If I want free stuff, I must take it by force. Fortunately they threw out such great numbers of things I got a spork and two camping bowls. The booths were more successful. Without much hassle I got two pair of free socks, stickers, a tshirt, and some accessories for my hammock.
I met up with a few trail friends I hadn't seen in a while, and some of the trail angels who had helped me along the way. Overall it was a really cool experience. Though some may be wary of going because of the craziness, it gives one a taste of trail culture without setting foot on the trail itself.
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