Shedding Skin
I left my beloved hometown of Winchester, Virginia just after turning 20 years old. It took me years to find the right time to leave in the right way, though I would never run out of reasons why.
Winchester is is a beautiful place and I reflect on it often with much heartfelt nostalgia. I experienced an incredibly rich and unique childhood roaming among the wild Blue Ridge Mountains steeped in southern hospitality, Civil War history, and humidity. It is also the home of Patsy Cline! Much of my youth was spent outdoors playing in the dirt, making things out of grass, inspecting bugs, lounging in creeks, swimming in lakes, trapping lightning bugs in jars etc. I came to view my house as some kind of unnecessary purgatory until I could go outside and play again, no matter the weather. My seven year old self became no different than my seventeen year old self; with the exception of a driver's license, I would still return home disheveled, ragged and muddy with some sort of artifact from the day's adventures. If I was outdoors, I was in love.
This love of mine for dirt and wild places would be the double edged sword to cut my life in half. The spring after my twentieth birthday, I left my conservative, rebel flag toting, Coors Light drinking, deodorant wearing, church going rootin' tootin' too small town for the bigger, dirtier, wilder world. The old adage - "Home is wear the heart is" would come to hold some painful truths during a visit back home for a friend's wedding.
I have known Sarah since I was seven years old. Sarah was my first and absolute best friend all the way up until the time I left Virginia. After leaving home, I would return to her at least once a year, every May for about a week. I was close with Sarah's entire family. I considered her mother one of my very own. Kate, Sarah's older sister who was only two years older than myself, I considered to be my older sister as well. My own sister, Melissa, was only four years younger than Sarah, and Sarah and I were only two years apart. The four of us (myself, Sarah, Kate and Melissa) became inseparable throughout our formative years. They were the only people in the world whom I felt truly knew me. After all, the four of us spent nearly all of our time in the woods together, rain, snow, or shine. Short of eating a spoonful of dirt for breakfast every morning, we were deeply bonded by our shared love for the freedoms we found outdoors, and we openly referred to one another as sisters, as family.
Sarah got married in the summer of 2011 and upon receiving her invitation I cried with joy and immediately began planning my trip back home to Winchester. She sent me a traditional 'Save the Date' invitation a year in advance so I had plenty of time to plan and think about this trip back home, which was not only annual at this point, but it would turn out to be my last.
Since I had so much time to plan this trip and it was going to be in early June, I decided I would make this trip a huge summer vacation for myself. I saved and planned all year long. This trip was to include a 2 week hike on the Appalachian Trail with one of my dearest hiking friends, trail name "Bear Paw", whom I had met two years before during my thru-hike. I would meet up with her the previous weekend for a hiker festival and we were to park our cars at Sarah's uncle Brian's house during our hike. Afterwards Bear Paw was to continue her summer going to music festivals and I was going to go to Sarah's wedding. I was more than excited for all of this, as far as I knew this was going to be the best visit to my hometown ever!
After my hike with Bear Paw, I arrived home no different than how I had always been: joyful, smelly, excited, hairy, and dirty from my time outdoors. After awkward hugs all around, I began to sense how much everything had changed. Though Sarah, Kate and Melissa and I had grown up all together attached at the hip and it had only been a year since my last visit, I was now realizing we were growing apart.
I began, as usual, to break the ice with items I had found during my hike. Several bird feathers, unique rocks, pieces of grass I wove together and a snake skin (my personal favorite) were among my treasures found. The snake skin was met with a shocking amount of distaste and aversion from my sisters. I was bothered by this, it had never been this way before. Later that evening as I was settling in, Sarah began to tell me she had picked out a dress for me to wear to her wedding as a guest and not a party member and she asked that I please shave my legs and get my hair done, which was a side mohawk with a rat tail at the time. I already had a nice dress that even matched her wedding colors. I do not believe in shaving my legs, it is a standard of beauty I find ridiculous and unnecessary. I had made a special hair piece for my hair with dried and fresh flowers and lace, which I kept in the fridge until the big day. Though I had abandoned the culture from which I came for many reasons, I still understood what was expected of me, and I did my best to fit in, like I had always done, with a broken heart.
I shaved my legs. I wore the dress Sarah picked out for me, even though I hated it. And I did my own hair. I cried more at Sarah's wedding than I would during a thousand funerals. This was my sister's wedding. I had known her since I was a little girl, barefoot and lonely in the dirt. She was my very first and best friend. I was so happy for her and so sad for the friendship that I felt was ending. Sarah wanted her wedding to be perfect and it was. Her dress fit her perfectly and she was absolutely radiant all night. Her cake was gorgeous and tediously tiered with lilies and glitter frosting. Her favorite songs played and she danced and laughed with all of us. We ate together like it was Thanksgiving or Christmas. Sarah and her groom were the well deserving stars of their own show they had worked months to plan. I shaved. I wore deodorant. I drank Coors Light. I changed into a t-shirt with a wolf and an American flag on it for the reception, as requested. I tried to catch the bouquet. I gave a moving speech. I danced. I laughed. I hugged a hundred people. I kissed an old high school boyfriend. I ate cake. I took pictures. I stayed up late. I helped clean up. I left a gift. I left.
Sarah's wedding was beautiful and I made it a point to have the best time ever and be as supportive to her as much as I possibly could. Like the snake skin I had found on the trail, I would always be the same person I had always been, it was just time to shed a new skin and move on. I believe the finding of that snake skin on the trail a week before was a foreshadow of what was to come. I left my final hang ups about who I am at the bottom of the Coors Light keg that summer.
I still give more of my time to the outdoors than I do people. I still come home rugged, muddy and disheveled, bursting at the seams with an onry joy over my adventures outside. Since then, I have worked for the Forest Service, I have hiked over 300 miles of the Pacific Crest Trail in Washington and Oregon, and over 500 miles on local trails. I volunteer on a goat farm, I shoot a slingshot daily, I wild craft herbs and make tinctures, and when I'm bored I'll still whittle a stick while lounging in the creek and if there's a lake, there's a me swimming in it. I think of Sarah and Kate often and I speak to Melissa on a regular basis. She keeps in touch with them and I hear about how they are doing. I haven't been back to Virginia since. I miss it dearly, and the next time I have a reason to go, I will make sure to visit with Kate and Sarah, of course. There are things about growing up in the Blue Ridge Mountains that are incomparable to any experience I have ever had, and I am forever grateful for being able to roam the wildest mountains I have ever known, those old Appalachia hills that eventually brought me to the grandeur and majesty of Oregon. Who knows where I will end up next.
"You must be proud you are different. Your only shame is to have shame." - Amy Tan from Fish Cheeks
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