It was in July of 2020 that Joseph and I decided we wanted to visit all 50 states. That is why, three years later, I woke up in a tent in the mountains of West Virginia to cross state number eighteen off our list.
Our campsite had was located on a small farm. On my way to the restroom to get ready, I was greeted by a black and white cat and three bleating goats who wanted all the head scratches I was willing to offer. After getting ready and cleaning up our campsite, Joseph and I drove through a misty morning in the green mountains to Cass Scenic Railroad State Park.
I had booked us one of the longest train rides offered, which would take us to the summit of Bald Knob, the tallest mountain in Pocahontas County. We arrived early at the park, so we spent the next hour exploring the shops and snacking on homemade peanut butter and chocolate fudge. When the time for our trip finally arrived, we boarded the Shay locomotive, one of the original trains used for logging all the way back to 1901.
I was filled with a childish glee when the trains whistle rang through the air and we began the slow chug up the mountain. Black smoke billowed into the sky above us as we sat on the wooden benches and watched the trees pass by the open air car.
I do not know why I was under the impression the train ride would be three hours, filled with gorgeous panoramic views the entire way. Mostly, it was trees, and what should have been a short afternoon became nearly five hours of sitting on uncomfortable benches as the train trudged up and down the mountain. We were rewarded at the top with a beautiful view of the Appalachian Mountains, but as we slowly made our way back down the mountain, I was beginning to think it would have been faster just to hike our way up instead.
It was supposed to be a relaxed day, but by the end of the train ride, our legs were aching from sitting all day, and neither of us were much enthused by the idea of going to our campsite. We were tired from a week of traveling and exhausted from a day that had been much less exciting than we had anticipated. With very limited wifi, we discovered we were not all that far away from where we had planned to go the following day. Ready for a little taste of adventure, we decided to move that hike to this evening and then drive home a day early, where we could enjoy the final day of our vacation in the comfort of our own house.
The final stop of our trip was Blackwater Falls State Park. As soon as we arrived, we were greeted by a black bear running across the road in front of us, and we took that as a good omen we had made the right decision.
We hurried down the slippery wooden stairs to the overlook of the falls — a gorgeous view of the amber colored water that spilled over the black rocks and pummeled into the river below. We stood in the cool spray of the water and breathed a sigh of contentment. It was a beautiful view, one I was glad we had not bypassed in our frustration with the day and sudden eagerness to return home.
We hiked a little farther to see the Balanced Rock, which was a large slate of stone balanced precariously upon a tower of boulders. Wet with sweat from the muggy, West Virginia air, we returned to our car just as the sun disappeared beyond the horizon, and began the drive home.
As we drove the six hours home beneath the starry night sky, I gazed out my window in awe of red, blue and gold fireworks bursting overhead. We were just a few days away from Independence Day, and it seemed the nearby towns in West Virginia had decided this was the night to celebrate. I was reminded vividly of our trip to Colorado, when we had made the decision to spend a few days extra in the state to see the 4th of July fireworks in Salida. Sitting beneath that mountain on the hood of Joseph’s car, sipping wine as we watched the cyclists cruise down the mountain and fireworks burst overhead, is one of my most treasured memories. It was the beginning of a new season in our lives, and of so many adventures ahead.
I would not normally be one to so amicably agree to return home early from a trip, much less be the one to suggest it. Normally, I want to soak up as much of our travels as possible. But in the last year, I have begun living my life differently. Instead of waiting for our adventures, I have created ones in my everyday life. I have pursued the career of my dreams, and in my free time, I do the things I enjoy. I have focused my attention on being present and noticing the little joys life brings, instead of going through the motions. I have spent more time on self-care, so I do not feel as though I am sleeping through my days because of exhaustion and burnout. In the last year, I have, for the first time in my life, dedicated myself to creating a life I love. And that is a life I do not mind returning home early for, as long as my travel buddy is by my side.
It’s strange to think that, three years ago, in Colorado, we were living through a global pandemic. I had lost my business. Joseph and I had just gotten engaged, and we were ready to embark on wherever that adventure would take us. Little did we know, we would be getting married within a year. That we would restart the business together, and build a team of incredible people I enjoy working with every day. That we would already have crossed eighteen states off our list, with the plan to be halfway done with our goal of visiting all fifty by the end of this year.
We did not know what the future would bring. In July of 2020, we were simply content to be sitting side by side on Joseph’s car, watching the fireworks and knowing, whatever came next, we would be doing it together.
I smiled to myself and reached for Joseph’s hand beside mine as I watched the fireworks burst overhead. Despite three years filled with adventures, not much has changed at all, and I could not be more grateful.
