As is the case with most things in my life that I seem to really enjoy, this was, ostensibly no different, in the fact that it had to come to an end. For years, I had hiked and climbed Old Rag Mountain pretty much at least once or twice a year, for the last eight or nine years; even the fact that I had moved to Georgia didn’t stop me from making trips up to Virginia to make time to climb my favorite trail.
Now I can’t say that I couldn’t see this coming, because it was pretty evident that it was already on its way, but with this last trip in the books, it’s pretty much a forlorn conclusion that Old Rag is pretty much intolerable these days, and that I’m going to have to start looking elsewhere to get my nature fixes. It’s such a shame too, because for years, an alternative has been searched for, only to be disappointed and pining for what Old Rag had to offer instead.