IN 2020, KAINE BIKED THE ENTIRE VIRGINIA PORTION OF THE BLUE RIDGE PA R K WAY A N D S K Y L I N E D R I V E . P H O T O COURTESY OF TIM KAINE
WHY I CREATED THE VIRGINIA NATURE TRIATHLON A multi-year adventure reveals the common ground found in the outdoors.
BY TIM KAINE
I’M SURE THE SECURITY CREW AT THE
Newport News Shipyard wondered what the hell I was doing when I paddled by its carriers and subs in a two-person ocean kayak with my eldest son during a Small Craft Advisory on a windy Saturday morning in October. We were in the midst of a gnarly 12-mile stretch on the James River, where it empties into the Chesapeake Bay, heading to our take-out at Fort Monroe. When we landed after more than three hours of battling wind, waves, and tide, my land legs were so wobbly that all I could do upon exiting the kayak was fall backwards into the Bay. What the hell was I doing? After my re-election to the Senate in 2018, I passed 25 years in public life in Virginia—dating back to my first race for Richmond City Council. I wanted to celebrate the milestone and recharge my battery for more public service ahead. So I hatched a plan. Elected officials often tour their states during weekends and recess weeks, but these tours are usually quick visits by car or plane. Considering Virginia has so much stunning terrain— from the mountains to the ocean—I wanted to take the time to really explore. So I created—and just completed—a multi-year endeavor that I’ve named the Virginia Nature Triathlon. In the past three years I’ve covered 1,230 miles
on three quintessential Virginia natural landmarks—hiking the Appalachian Trail, cycling the Blue Ridge Parkway and adjoining Skyline Drive, and paddling the James River. In 2019, I started hiking south on the A.T. from the West Virginia border at Harpers Ferry and, during the spring, summer, and fall, completed the Virginia stretch to the Tennessee border south of Damascus. I was solo for two-thirds of the trip, with friends and family joining occasionally. I walked through record heat, confronted bears, pulled off ticks, and dodged slithering snakes. I walked the length of Shenandoah National Park, soaked in the vast vista views of Three Ridges, and crossed the alpine-like grasslands of Grayson Highlands. I spent time talking to hikers, shuttle drivers, park rangers, and folks in towns along the way. Some recognized me, unshaven with a burly backpack
I spent time talking to hikers, shuttle drivers, park rangers, and folks in towns along the way. Some recognized me, unshaven with a burly backpack and dusty boots. Many didn’t. I lost 26 pounds but gained a great trail name: Dogbowl. and dusty boots. Many didn’t. I lost 26 pounds but gained a great trail name: Dogbowl. The following year I recruited five friends to ride the entire Virginia section of the Blue Ridge Parkway and Skyline Drive. We started on a rainy August morning at the Virginia/North Carolina border and pedaled north to Front Royal. Now all over age 60, we sweated up
long climbs, bombed massive downhill stretches, and saw the endless beauty of the Commonwealth from the heights of the Blue Ridge. In the heart of the pandemic, the time together outdoors felt like freedom. And I recently finished canoeing the James River, from Iron Gate in Alleghany County to the Chesapeake Bay. I paddled during the spring, summer, and fall of 2021—joined by my wife, Anne, our children, and friends, as well as Virginia tribal leaders, research scientists, local officials, and advocates from the James River Association. Along the way, I shot through rapids, endured long slack sections, saw history on the banks, and mastered four modes of person-powered river transport (canoe, batteau, raft, kayak). I also suffered my only injury—a severe burn on my left foot due to inattention with a camp stove that took me off the river for weeks.
DECEMBER 2021 - JANUARY 2022 | BLUERIDGEOUTDOORS.COM
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