Legends of the Fall?

Double C, Snow and I bombed our way into the heart of the Shenandoah National Park on Saturday in search of tranquility and/or adventure...we found both. We marvelled at the "autumn Americana" in the small mountain towns leading up to the park which included "leaf activities" while wearing flannel. Double C had researched a short hike known as Overall Run. The trail carved its way into the Shenandoah valley and past "one of the largest continuous waterfalls in Virginia". The falls was pretty dry but the views were some of the best I've seen in the park. I was surprised to not find a trail to the bottom of the falls, so this fox went exploring. I found a small valley and negotiated my way deep into the hole. The granite was loose all around me and I prayed against a rock slide. Eventually, after carefully choosing my steps, I got to the bottom...and eventually I was joined by my colleagues. Getting back up proved far more adventurous. CC found a tough but doable place to ascend, hand over hand, up to the top of the overlook. The Peruvian climbed like a wildcat and I did my best to follow. There was definitely one section of the climb where I questioned WHY I had decided to make the climb, but I slowly slithered my way up and over the rocks and got back to safety. I sighed then frowned at my peed pants.

While looking for a bar to hang our hats and wet our whistles we stumbled upon The Red Fox Tavern in downtown Middleburg. The establishment was a bit too fancy for three dirty hikers, so we lurched our way down the road in search of a grittier pub. During the walk, we noticed that EVERYTHING in the town had red fox in its name or at least had red fox insignias; Red Fox Inn, Red Fox Fine Art etc. taxidermed red foxes stared blankly at me from behind store glass windows while red fox stuffed animals donning riding garb smiled at me from toy shops. At first I was happy, but then I got disturbed when I noticed that "hunt" seemed to be twined with "fox" everywhere I looked...whether in the form of horses, black riding caps, whips, rifles or hound dogs. I gulped then proceeded into the Red Horse Tavern. Most of the restaurant was filled with jockeys and horse riders. They explained how Middleburg was "the fox hunting capital of the country". I gulped and swallowed hard. We continued to talk to our new friends while drinking cool Guinness and eating hot food. Then we smiled, tipped our hats figuratively to the local gentry and proceeded back to the hubbub of Washington.





More on Middleburg: After the turn of the century, Middleburg began welcoming a new wave of visitors that descended on the town for foxhunting and steeplechasing. The charming village soon earned a reputation as the "Nation's Horse and Hunt Capital," attracting prominent visitors from across the United States.
Serving as a host community for more than 250 years, it is no surprise that Middleburg has developed such a high concentration of fine inns, shops and restaurants.