Hear my cry for help,
My King and my God,
For to you I pray.
Psalm 5: 2
Courtney takes note of multiple roadside food options, “This looks like a good exit.”
JoAnn darts off the highway. The four of us strain necks to compare restaurants along the hilly terrain.
In a JCPenney parking lot we point back and forth around us, “Maybe this one.”
“No, not that one.”
Then we all say at the same time, “Maybe Applebee’s.”
JoAnn does a 360 degree turn with the Toyota.
“Whoa!” The girls hold the backseat as we spin.
The young ladies have not driven with JoAnn before, but I have. Wild driving here and there is guaranteed.
An arm leans forward to point, “Applebee’s is over that way.”
JoAnn parks safely. She scans the console. Finding Flat Kevin, she says, “Kevin! You can come inside with us.”
As we step outside of the vehicle, we stretch legs and arms.
Inside the restaurant, JoAnn holds Kevin so that his likeness can observe the menu.
“Hmm, Flat Kevin is going to have barbeque and water,” she says then dances Flat Kevin over to lean on the table’s kiosk tablet. “Kevin will play some electronic games while we wait.”
I notice that Courtney and Rachel plan to split food. “Ok, no wings this time,” Courtney says. I admire their agreeable relationship.
Rachel says, “Tell us more about Kevin, JoAnn.”
JoAnn talks about Kevin and his wife Erin, “They chose to enjoy a large family with five children. Kevin coached their kids’ baseball and soccer teams. When Erin became more of the breadwinner, Kevin chose to stay home with their little ones. He has loved every moment of being a dad and husband. It is so hard to see him sick. And their kids are still quite young.”
Courtney turns to our guest, “Thanks for going on the trip with us, Flat Kevin.”
Food arrives. We munch with noticeable focus. No one says it, but I suspect we all consider the importance of savoring this meal before heading onto the trail. The group is relaxed with one another. Conversation is easy. Silence is acceptable.
Walking back to the vehicle, an observation slips out my mouth, “I can already tell this is gonna be a supportive group. Not a sh*thead among us.”
Rachel repeats with a smirk, “Not a sh*thead among us.”
“Seriously,” I chuckle. “I think we will work together well.”
Courtney agrees, “We’re off to a good start.”
Look, I love Jesus, but I cuss a little.
JoAnn places Flat Kevin on the dashboard so he can watch the road.
The backseat takes a nap.
I watch out the window while thinking about the prior weekend.
FLASHBACK: MAY 19
Paul says, “Are you going to the Women’s Conference at church this weekend?”
“I didn’t sign up. Originally Jacob was leaving on the 24th so I didn’t want to be gone two of the days right before he left.”
“You can go now,” he says.
Given the amount of time I am away from home each week and that I am leaving on a trip soon, it is odd that he is suggesting it.
He says, “I think it will be good for you.”
MAY 20, 2016
I know Paul is right, so I go. Best friend since birth Amy and her 14-year-old daughter Maggie are coming too. I save them two seats and send a text.
Glenna–FRONT RIGHT SIDE, 4 ROWS FROM THE STAGE.
The auditorium is packed. The crowd of ladies swell as the music builds.
So many people are here, but I feel alone. I am empty and numb. Life seems so messy. How did I let things get this difficult?
One of my favorite local singers, Ashton, steps to the microphone. She sings Hillsong’s I Surrender.
…Find me here
Lord draw me near
…Drench my soul
As mercy and grace unfold
I hunger and thirst.
…I know you hear my cry
Speak to me now
I want to know You more
I want to know You more
The church lights are dark which I appreciate when tears flow. I think about the word surrender in-between droplets.
Do I want to know God more or do I want Him to fix my problems?
A sea of worship arms raise across the room. The women are pumped for the music, an inspiring message and fun after party stations. I am standing but not praising. My head bows just trying to get through this feelings fest.
Upbeat songs play by the time Amy and Maggie scoot into the aisle. They give me a quick hug. They may not see my wet face and I am glad. I love them dearly. There is not one day in my life that I can remember without Amy in it. Our moms knew each other and went to the same church when we were little. We were born two months apart. And now two of our own children, Maggie and Ben, are just 9 months apart.
I continue to think about the word surrender. What a complicated word. What does it even mean in the spiritual sense anyway? I barely listen to the rest of the program.
After the service, we find a variety of activities, food and desserts. We play around in a photo booth and paint pottery. I make JoAnn a mug with a sunflower on it. By the time it is fired in the kiln and returned to church I can give it to her as a “thanks for the trip” gift next month.
JoAnn sees a sign, “Hershey’s ice cream!”
We hit another exit.
“Do you see where the ice cream shop is?” She asks.
The car riders are fully awake now. JoAnn drives up the hill behind a star shaped complex with several stores inside and a gas station outside. We see there are no buildings up there. JoAnn turns to speed down the hill back toward the complex.
She goes too fast. There is a curb with a sizeable drop off! She stomps the brakes just short of flying over the large empty space that could have damaged the car (or worse) and ended the trip early. Whew!
Rachel and Courtney laugh softly.
I am slightly more terrified of JoAnn’s driving than bears at the moment.
We go inside what appears to be a roadside food court to discover that the Hershey’s ice cream consists of pre-made frozen milkshake cups in a cooler.
Rachel and JoAnn purchase two cups and put them in the self-serve milk shake machine to stir. I eat a Reese’s ice cream sandwich and toss the wrapper.
We find the restroom, pass up the tourist items available for purchase like wildlife tea towels and collector spoons and mugs, then are back on the road.
We arrive at Shenandoah National Park! Excitement and nerves fill the car. Trees are lush and tall all around us.
I feel scared because within what seems like mere minutes, I must figure out how to sleep outside in a 1-person tent.
Our plan is to check in the first night at Loft Mountain campground, cook hot dogs and go to bed. I think the three gals are interested in a little beer too. Not my thing, but I bet that will help folks sleep.
The CR-V approaches the Ranger Station entrance.
Ranger Anita, according to her name tag, welcomes us with instructions. We pull over for a moment and each fill out an official Backcountry Use Permit. The form is in triplicate and has a bread wire through a hole on one end. It is from the U.S. Department of the Interior for the National Park Service.
I feel pride over such a legit document. The form number is 10-404. We write our name, home address and general hiking plan for the week.
Oh. Is this like leaving breadcrumbs for a future Search Party? Probably.
We pull off the top layer for Anita and attach the remaining individual tags to our backpacks. I try not to think that these tags could be the first item used to identify our bodies if things do not go well. I see the thick forest from here and marvel. We are going in there.
At the intersection beyond the Ranger Station, we see a male and female hiker. They look exhausted and dirty. He is limping. Maybe they are attempting to hitch hike? Not sure.
“I really need to pee,” Courtney says.
“We can pull over,” JoAnn says.
“Nah. Not quite ready to pee outside yet. I know we’re going to have to soon, though.”
Rachel and I make eye contact. We are not quite ready either.
JoAnn says, “Oh, honeys. I have perfected peeing outside.”
Of course, she has. Ah, if only we all felt the same.
Driving along Skyline Drive we see a spectacular view of mountains stretching far and wide. Our elevation is over 3,000 feet and rising. There is a blue haze everywhere with sprouts of bright green, white and purple blooms.
“Look!” I point to a groundhog scaling a small rock wall along the road edge.
“I bet we see a lot of creatures,” Rachel says.
“What’s everyone thinking their trail name is going to be?” JoAnn asks.
“I still don’t know yet,” Rachel responds. “How about you?”
JoAnn says, “I am SunFloJo because I love sunflowers, and I love how sunflowers lean toward the light.”
I offer, “Courtney, I think because of your amazing investigative skills you could be Stalker C. You impressed me at the speed you found Dick’s picture on the internet.”
Rachel says, “I like that. Court, you really can find anyone online in like 3 seconds or less. It’s a superpower of yours.”
Courtney says, “I’ll think it over, but I could lean that way. Sounds good.” Then she asks, “Glenna, how about you?”
I exhale. “Well, one of the reasons I need to go on this trip is to let go and embrace life changes coming up. Sometimes I try too hard to force things to fit.”
I add, “I’ve been thinking about the name Surrender.”
There is a group murmur and collective head nod.
We continue taking in the beauty of the mountains and valleys around us. The sun drops into a sunset position creating ribbons of soft blue and gold light everywhere.
Rachel ponders out loud, “I love how the sunshine is flowing through the leaves.”
Our jaws open and eyes widen. SunFloJo, Stalker C and Surrender all say together, “Sunshine!”
And that is how Rachel was given her trail name Sunshine.
I share randomly, “Sunshine is so much better than Rat. Before I knew Rachel’s full name, she was in my phone contacts as Rachel AT which looks like RAT if you read it too fast.”
Stalker C makes a note of that comment and will sometimes call her friend Sunshine Rat thereafter.
“Hey,” I say. “All our names begin with S.”
SunFloJo says, “Ooo. I like it!”
Stalker C says, “We can call ourselves the Steam Team.”
“Yes!” In unison we agree.
Then the dashboard begins blinking an orange light.
SunFloJo looks at me. I look at the dashboard.
We are almost out of gas! We are not quite to our campground yet.
SunFloJo has an “oops!” look on her face. She glances at me in a she might laugh kind of way. Funny, not funny.
She makes a speedy U-turn.
“How far back is the last gas station we saw?” I ask turning toward the backseat.
Sunshine says, “That exit was a while ago.”
I check my phone, “I don’t have reception.”
Stalker C is on it. “One bar.” She searches.
We are on fumes going back down Skyline Drive, back past the ranger station and down the hill toward the last town we saw. The dashboard gas light is increasingly brighter orange in my mind.
Stalker C says, “Got it. There’s a Bear Country Store & Deli with a gas pump .9 mile from here.”
“Good,” I say.
“They close at 7:30pm.”
It is 7:25pm. SunFloJo and I look at one another. She steps on the gas—what’s left of it!
We see the store! A giant faux bear is propped on top of the building.
I run inside to tell them we are there in hopes they won’t turn us away.
We made it. Whew! We didn’t even notice this place on the approach to the park the first time. JoAnn pumps the gas from the one and only pump.
Inside there is a tiny closet with one toilet and mini sink restroom. This might be our last porcelain toilet for a while.
There are two large barrels with checkerboards on top inside the store waiting for visitors to play.
Sunshine buys a bottle of local wine. I soak in the community feel of the place as the shop owner vacuums their welcome rug. There are posters and invites to summer events tacked to a bulletin board. I notice at the register a town newspaper dedicated to “The Most Wanted” people in the county. The front page is covered with many square pictures of faces, with names and a list of their alleged crimes. Watch out for those guys and gals.
Sunshine and Stalker C pose for a picture outside with the store sign. The sun is getting low now. We better get moving.
Retracing our drive back into the park, we see the hiker couple possibly still looking for a ride. We have zero space or seats in our vehicle to pick up anyone. We trek on.
Stalker C shares that she is most concerned about bears on the trail. I respond with info from YouTube about how to make noise if we see a black bear and suggest we do our best not to get in-between a momma bear and her cubs because that is the main time that a black bear might become aggressive.
“Yea, we’re lucky that there are no grizzlies here. I read they are more aggressive,” I say.
Stalker C eyes me.
We enjoy the ascension views all over again.
Then I say, “Look! A Bear!” I am serious, no joke.
SunFloJo slows and stops the CR-V. Two wee black bear cubs cross the road. Their much bigger momma follows. I know from my side of the car there is no point in trying to get a picture as the bears climb into the brush and trees left of the car. From the driver’s side SunFloJo takes a few pictures.
I am not sure if this was a good thing to happen to soften Stalker C’s fears or a bad thing to make her bear fears worse.
The vehicle hums along again. We are in a wondering state of mind thinking about the bears and the nature around us.
Stalker C says, “I really would like to see a deer.”
“Aw,” I say.
SunFloJo, “Any special reason?”
“One year ago today, my grandmother Rosemary passed away. As we left the care facility the first thing we saw was a deer. The whole family thinks of her now when we see deer.”
“It’s her spirit animal!” SunFloJo says with confidence.
“I hope we see one,” I say to Stalker C. “Especially today.”
But there’s not much light left.
© Copyright 2016 Surrender On The Trail – Glenna S. Edwards
Thanks for reading or listening. Check back next Sunday for CHAPTER SIX.
Oh, and there is an EXTRA CONTENT B on the podcast this week! In those extra minutes, I describe some new things I have been exploring.