Here’s the part that made me laugh a little when I officially committed to the Virginia State Parks Trail Quest:

I’d already started.

Not intentionally or even strategically.
Just by living my life and saying yes to hiking the trails over the last two years.

Which means, before I even “started”, I had already earned my first Trail Quest pin thanks to visits I made in the last two years to:

• Holliday Lake State Park
• Natural Bridge State Park
• Bear Creek Lake State Park
• James River State Park
• Occoneechee State Park

Five parks. One pin. Zero pressure.

And honestly? That feels exactly right for how this whole Trail Quest is unfolding.

The Accidental Win That Made Me Smile

I didn’t set out to “complete” anything last year.

I wasn’t chasing stamps or milestones. I was just hiking, choosing parks that fit the day, the dogs, the weather, and my energy. Some trips were planned. Some were last-minute “I need trees immediately” decisions.

Finding out those hikes already counted toward the Trail Quest felt like a quiet nod from the universe saying: You’ve been on the path longer than you think.

That’s worth pausing for.

Because sometimes we don’t give ourselves credit for the ground we’ve already covered, especially when we didn’t label it as progress at the time.

What These First Five Parks Taught Me

Each of these parks showed me something different, not just about hiking, but about how I hike.

Holliday Lake State Park: The Gentle Reset

Holliday Lake is one of those parks that doesn’t shout for attention. It doesn’t demand big expectations or heroic effort. It’s steady. Calm. Grounding.

This is the kind of place you go when:

• You want movement without drama
• You need space to think
• You’re hiking with dogs who benefit from predictability

It reminded me that not every hike needs to feel epic to be valuable. Sometimes the win is simply getting out there and letting your nervous system settle back into a normal rhythm.

Natural Bridge State Park: Awe With a Side of Crowds

Natural Bridge is iconic, and it knows it.

The bridge itself is genuinely breathtaking. There’s no denying that. Standing beneath it puts things into perspective in that “oh right, I am very small” kind of way.

But it also comes with:

• More people
• More structure
• Less flexibility

This park taught me an important Trail Quest lesson early on: not every beautiful place is a good fit for every hike or every dog.

And that’s not a failure. That’s discernment.

Bear Creek Lake State Park: Spacious and Underrated

If there’s one word I’d use for Bear Creek Lake, it’s roomy.

This park surprised me in the best way. The trails felt less rushed, less compressed. There was breathing room for me and for the dogs.

For hiking with dogs (especially those who need space), that matters more than scenery alone.

This was one of those parks that quietly moved up my internal “would absolutely return” list, and that’s exactly why the Trail Quest matters. Left to my own habits, I might not have prioritized it.

James River State Park: A Favorite for a Reason

James River State Park already held a special place for me before it “counted” toward anything.

It’s versatile.
It offers variety.
It works across seasons and energy levels.

This park reinforced something I already suspected: the places we return to over and over again usually earn that loyalty honestly. They meet us where we are, whether that’s a long hike day, a shorter loop, or a quiet walk with the dogs.

There’s no guilt in favorites. The Trail Quest doesn’t replace them, it simply adds perspective.

Occoneechee State Park: A Lesson in Logistics

Occoneechee was a reminder that logistics matter.

The trails are well-maintained and scenic, but access points, distances between trailheads, and how a park is laid out can shape the entire experience, especially when hiking with dogs.

This park nudged me to pay closer attention to:

• Trail connections
• Parking placement
• How much “extra walking” happens before the hike even starts

That kind of awareness is easy to overlook until you’re managing leashes, timing, and energy levels all at once.

The Pin Isn’t the Point, but It’s Still Fun

Let’s be clear: I didn’t start this Trail Quest for the pin.

But earning one anyway, before officially beginning, felt like a small, satisfying wink.

It’s tangible.
It’s physical.
It marks effort without demanding performance.

And honestly? In a world that constantly pressures us to monetize, optimize, and broadcast everything, there’s something refreshing about a reward that simply says: You showed up.

No algorithm required.

Why This Matters Going Forward

Starting the Trail Quest already “in progress” changes the tone of this whole journey.

It reminds me that:

• There’s no behind
• There’s no catching up
• There’s just continuing

This isn’t about racing through parks or collecting accomplishments. It’s about layering experiences over time and noticing how each one shapes the next.

Some parks will challenge me.
Some will comfort me.
Some will be one-and-done.
Some will become anchors.

All of that counts.

What Comes Next

Now that the Trail Quest is officially underway (and already pinned, literally), I’ll be moving forward with intention:

• Visiting parks I’ve never been to
• Revisiting some with fresh eyes
• Paying closer attention to dog-friendliness and trail flow
• Documenting the reality, not the brochure version

If you’re following along, expect honesty, not hype.

Because if this first pin taught me anything, it’s this:

You don’t have to declare a journey for it to be real.
Sometimes you’re already walking it, you just haven’t named it yet.

And now?
We keep going. One trail at a time.