It’s spring. This means warmer weather, pretty blossoms, and yes, allergies.  It’s also Spring Break, which means a week of no schedules and a relatively minor amount of responsibilities. The past two years, I have had the privilege of gallivanting around the country on various climbing trips during this season. I appreciated the dry 60° weather in Red Rock Canyon and complained my way through a lovely 80° humid nightmare in Kentucky both involving scaling up rocks.

This spring, however, I decided to stay close to home, heed current orders of social isolation, and avoid all contact with other humans. A lofty order, yet I was up to the challenge.

Enter: The Blue Ridge Parkway.

With a speed limit of 45 mph, the Blue Ridge Parkway boasts idyllic landscapes dotted with rolling farmland, quite a few vineyards, and a spectacular array of soft forested mountains. It also falls under the jurisdiction of the National Park Service as a protected landscape that goes beyond the road itself to include numerous mountains and trails. I used Google Maps to find a chunk of the Parkway that suited my interests: away from people and chock-full of hiking trails.

I hopped in my lovely Honda CRV with an uncharacteristic amount of luggage (seems my minimalist nature only works on trips longer than five days). The sense of anticipation I get when embarking on a road trip is heavenly, even when I’m only circling within my own state. Trail mix and local radio kept me fueled up for quite a few miles until I was able to leave the interstate and enter a world of soft, forested enchantment.

The Blue Ride Parkway was practically empty. I rolled down the windows and marveled at the amount of color that the tree-lined road boasted. I made mental notes as to what to look up later as part of my life-long attempt to identify all local tree and plant species.

I pulled over quite a few times at scenic overlooks. It was different than what I might find in Shenandoah National Park – less height and grandeur, but more closeness. For lack of a better description, the Parkway felt more intimate and involved than Skyline Drive in Shenandoah that twists and turns at higher elevations.

My first stop was slightly off of the Parkway and involved a hike up Buffalo Mountain, a natural area preserve that had a pot-holed gravel road approach and an empty parking lot. I hiked upward, enjoying the smell of everything living around me. It had recently rained, and there’s nothing quite like the scent of nature releasing all of its delicious chemicals that our human noses pick up and, hopefully, appreciate.

I got to the top and watched the vultures circle relentlessly, but with a rather calm demeanor. The rock openings at the summit were fun to play on and just as easy to get lost on. I wandered too far off to the side, creeping down a rather sharp rock incline before I realized I had to back-track my steps or risk a plunge off the edge during a traverse. The whole time wind blew in spurts, sometimes relaxing for minutes at a time before whipping my hair into a frenzy.

It was fun, and I cherished the solitude.

The next stop was only fifteen minutes away, back on the Blue Ridge Parkway. I stopped at the Rocky Knob Recreation Center that was closed down for COVID-19 but still had all the trails open. I saw one couple on a motorcycle pull up to the locked-up Visitor’s Center only to dismay at the lack of restroom facilities. I parked, stretched my legs, and embarked on another hike that took me along a stream. I got distracted by the amount of green, squishy moss and then ended up racing sticks by myself. I quickly became caught up in the joy of being in such a beautiful place that I forgot I was hiking. The frontal lobe of my brain was quiet and muffled under the spell of nature’s beauty. I made it back to my car, watched a ferocious thunderstorm creep in, and then called it a day.

Sleep, rinse, repeat.

The Blue Ridge Parkway is certainly one of Virginia’s gems and a place I am proud to have added to my repertoire of natural spaces.

Stay safe and get outside.