CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO 

For the Lord your God has blessed you in all that you have done; He has known your wanderings through this great wilderness. These forty years the Lord your God has been with you; you have not lacked a thing.  Deuteronomy 2:7 

It is after 5:00PM when we return dirty and depleted.  

We had thought we would be done and back to Big Meadow by 3:00PM at the latest. 

The Steam Team opens the Bear Box at Campsite 2 as if greeting a long-lost friend. We gather quarters and personal care products. 

In tall grass a few feet from the box, my 1-person tent maintained our faux occupancy well while we were gone. I nod in thanks for its service.  

I grab the attention of a stranger in front of the shower house and ask them to take our “after” picture. We force smiles through physical pain while our souls smile with ease knowing that we completed over 33 miles on foot via rocks, trees, mountains, and valleys. My legs may separate from my body at any moment. I doubt the picture will fully capture the layers of grime on our skin. 

Sunshine Rat points out, “We’re running a little behind. Ted is going to be bringing his garbage up soon.” 

Stalker C says, “Yeah it’s almost 6pm.” 

“Ah, man. We don’t have shampoo,” Stalker C notes. 

Sunshine says, “We’ll make the best of it.” 

“Oh no you won’t,” my maternal instincts kick in as I dig through my “after bag”.  

I continue, “We are entertaining tonight. You gals need clean hair. Here is my travel shampoo. I’ll wait and shower after you’re done.” 

Wow, how fast I sound like a mom post trail! 

Stalker C and Sunshine Rat laugh. Stalker says to Sunshine, “You know time is winding down. We gotta find our grooms to bring home.” 

Sunshine says, “That’s right.” 

I gladly sit in a white plastic chair in the laundry room. I am filthy but resting feels glorious. 

A pair of hikers come in to wash a small load of clothes. I think we’ve seen them before on the trail. It is tough to tell because now they are freshly showered. 

The girl goes back in the bathroom to blow dry her hair. I ask him, “Did you two come on the trail together?” 

His face scrunches, “Nah. We just met up and are hiking together.” 

I note the “just” in his sentence.    

She returns with long blonde hair mostly dry. She looks at him with affection. He does not return that vibe. I’m bothered by the notion that he may not be as attracted to her as she is to him. Even her backpack is bigger and appears to be packed heavier than his. What the heck? He puts some of his clothes in her pack. 

I remember now. They are the couple from the bobcat sighting. I recall learning their trail names. She is Murph and he is MudPuppie. 

I ask her, “So why is your name Murph?” 

She smiles, “Because the first few weeks out on the trail anything that could go wrong for me did, like Murphy’s Law. My name was later shortened to Murph.”   

Murph tosses her hair a bit and smiles toward MudPuppie whose eyeroll reaction basically says this is only a summer thing.   

I envision that she’ll be stronger because of the months long hiking. When he breaks her heart at the end in Maine, she’ll be ok and ready to move on. She doesn’t need him. 

A clean Sunshine Rat and Stalker C are almost unrecognizable when they return my shampoo. I may barely feel my numb feet, but I know they carry me to the shower stalls. 

I don’t bother trying to save underwear or the Ziploc bag of urine socks. Anything beyond cleaning easily or likely to smell in the heat of the car on the way home is tossed in the trash. Feels good to get rid of stuff. 

Then I savor the clink of quarters into the machine that turns on the water in the shower.   

Hallelujah.  

I have wilderness soap which is little slips of paper that turn to suds when joined with water. My shampoo lathers like total luxury. Layers of dirt sink to the drain. Still soapy, I add quarters to rinse the rest of the me. 

Oops! I forgot to bring up my sham towel. 

I air dry as best I can before pulling on a clean set of clothes. It’s been a while since I’ve felt cotton on my skin. How wonderful! 

I fluff my hair with a community hair dryer and use a mini pop-up travel brush to comb through my locks.  

The Steam Team meets back at the car and bear box. 

No one attempts or mentions putting up tents for the night. I should look to see if my 1-person tent is still clean and critter-free inside, but I don’t.  

We head to the Tap Room without delay. 

“I wonder how many party goers will show tonight?” Sunshine says as we walk up the hill along a thin blacktop path that leads to the lodge.  

My feet remain flames of fire, but I am clean! My toes are free from boots. The air flow around my flip flops makes my heart leap with joy and appreciation. I wobble and catch myself from falling a few times. 

Stalker C says, “I wonder if Ted will really be here?” 

The anticipation is fun and drowns out the parts of me that hurt; shoulder, neck, back, arms, thighs…so much pain!   

Will our hero, Ted, really come to take out the trash, do laundry, and hang out in the Tap Room with us?!? Will he? Will he? 

We reach the lodge that sits perfectly on top of its mountain. The interior is rustic and comforting.   

A stuffed bear catches our eye, so we pause to take a pic of Stalker C posing with her worst fear.  

We walk into a large lounge with both broad and tall windows. I eye a row of rocking chairs. 

SunFloJo says, “Let’s have morning coffee here with the view tomorrow.” 

We all nod absolutely. “And we’ll read Deb’s last note here,” Sunshine Rat adds. 

“Yes!” we respond. 

Our sore bodies find the way to steep wooden stairs that lead down to the Tap Room. I step down the flight of stairs sideways and hold onto the rail to manage.  

We are greeted by the red checkered tablecloths, a bar in the distance, wood tables and chairs, wood covered walls, and a row of wood French doors with a partial mountain view.   

A band or something is setting up to play here tonight. How Fun! A man and young woman bring in a guitar, speakers, and microphone. 

SunFloJo tells the server, “We need a long table because we don’t know how many people might show up to visit us here tonight.”  

The group giggles as we help place four small tables together to create one long table near where the band will play. 

The sun is low in the sky. Blue hues and warm yellows glow through the windows. 

“Margarita, please. And a water. Thank you,” I request with just enough cash in my wallet to have one appetizer, a drink and maybe something from a fast-food dollar menu on the way home tomorrow.  Plus, of course I have trail food bags that I’ve barely touched all week. 

SunFloJo points to the margarita that arrives in a Mason jar, “That one is on me. This is a celebration of perseverance.” She gives me a look that says no ifs ands or buts about that.   

Ok then. “Thank you.” 

“We did it!” SunFloJo holds up a beer, and we all oblige to toast this great adventure. “So much fun girls!” 

Our glasses clink together. Stalker C says, “And not a minute more.” Her eyes widen like they seemed often to do on the trail, but this time with wide eyed satisfaction. 

Sunshine Rat offers, “Yes. A wonderful experience, and we’re all still alive!” 

SunFloJo’s shoulders laugh. She texts home to say we are safe and sound. 

I was happy to find my phone in SunFloJo’s car before we journeyed to the Tap Room. The girls and I take turns plugging in our phones to charge them in a nearby outlet. 

“I wonder who is going to show?” I ask. 

“The whole forest perhaps,” SunFloJo says. She types into Google, “Now, I’m looking up Steel-Cut. I’m still perplexed by that.” 

I shake my head. It was a well-earned compliment, friend! 

Sunshine Rat notes, “That bothers you a little bit, doesn’t it?” 

She responds, “I’m just trying to understand it.” Then, reading out loud from the internet, “1. Ground or crushed between rolls fitted with cutting teeth, like steel-cut coffee or steel-cut oats.  2. Faceted with a steel tool, used especially of buttons, buckles and beads having allover design of facets.” 

“Oh, the second definition!” Sunshine says, “You are faceted with a steel tool.” 

“With many facets,” Stalker C says. “Basically, you’re a badass.” 

We toast our drinks to that. 

“That is awesome,” I say. Then I touch SunFloJo’s arm and add, “It was a divine moment. There was no need whatsoever for that Teste Team Leader to say anything about you. He picked up on your aura or something. You are Steel-Cut. And you led us beautifully with your badass self.” 

We laugh. I add, “And we appreciate you. Thank you for including us on this journey.” 

Recognizable faces begin to fill the room. I notice Sushi and a trail friend or two at the bar. I’m too tired to go invite them to the table. That would require standing up.   

Whoever comes to the table is welcome. We’re not walking even another twenty-five feet unless we absolutely must! 

Through the patio doors I see MudPuppie and Murphy outside. I think she wants to come inside, but he doesn’t. She is pointing to the fact that they could leave their gear outside, but he shakes his head no.  

Leave him, Murph. Leave him right now. But no, she slumps her shoulders a bit and puts her pack back on. He’s already walking away. I am disappointed that she follows him. 

“Ooh, we left some clothes in the dryer.” SunFloJo remembers. 

“I’ll go with you,” Sunshine joins her. 

Stalker C and I exchange looks and smiles as the Tap Room capacity increases. We don’t waste energy on speaking. And this margarita is gooood.   

Oops, all gone.   

I will work on my water and the remaining ice to increase hydration.   

As we observe, we learn that the guy with the band is the father of the young woman. And the young woman with long dark hair is only 16 years old. Her name is Brieanna James. She’s going to sing tonight.  We grab one of her publicity postcards and search for her on Facebook and Twitter.   

“Ted!” says Stalker C. 

“Look who we found!” SunFloJo calls out. 

Rounding the stage area is Ted with SunFloJo & Sunshine.  I point to the seat in front of me on the table end closest to the stage. “Right here. We saved this seat for you!” 

I can’t let Ted go to the other end where the younger Steam Team members are. Seating might mess up the opportunity of potential suitors for the young ones! 

“Well, ok.” Ted sits down. 

I hear a snicker and snort from the other end as SunFloJo slips in next to me. Oh, no. He probably thinks I purposefully want him close to me! I yi yi. 

With the help of my margarita I say, “We gotta keep the single ladies with open seats down there. We invited a lot of people to the Tap Room tonight.” 

More stifled giggles. Ted smiles with a quick raise of both hands and says, “I completely understand.” 

I smile. I knew he would. 

SunFloJo says, “We’re so glad you came tonight!” 

Next to him, Sunshine Rat says, “And we smell and look a little better tonight I bet.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” He smiles and looks at each of us. He’s a jolly sort. 

SunFloJo asks, “Now tell us all about your connection to Rapidan and this place. Did you say to us you’ve been working here like over a decade or something?” 

“Oh yes,” he says. “I love being here. My normal job is in California. I work from here part of each year.”   

“What brings you this far over and over again?”   

“I’m originally from the east coast and my family came to the Shenandoah National Park every summer growing up. My dad was kind of like my mom and dad all in one because my mom died when I was little.” 

Lots of social worker types at the table, in unison a few of us say, “I’m so sorry.” 

“Eh. It was a long time ago.” Ted continues, “One of our happiest memories and my only memory of mom was when we were here one summer. I was about five. Later that year she died. Dad and I spread her ashes over BearFence Scramble the next summer. We went back every summer since in one way or another.” 

BearFence. Aww.  

We’re in listening mode. He continues, “And a few years ago Dad died. Me and my family spread his ashes up there too.” He sighs, “A couple weeks ago I went up there on a day off and was kind of surprised to find little pieces of bone still up there from dad.” 

Still enjoying the view, I suppose.   

Ok. Now I’m glad for new reasons that we didn’t go up there. Maybe I’d go up on a different trip with less backpack and more as a side trip stop. 

Sunshine Rat changes the subject, “You know, Ted, you are the only person around here who gives accurate trail mileage information.”   

We agree. She continues, “The trail said our trip today would be about 6 miles and you said 9. It was totally 9 plus a little more.” 

Stalker C and I say, “Yeah. The trail lies.” 

Sunshine adds, “We appreciate you not lying Ted.” 

SunFloJo says, “Let’s get you a drink. We’ve ordered some food and we can order more if you want. It’s on us.” She adds with a wink, “We owe you gratitude for that which shall remain a secret!”   

Stalker C says, “You saved our life.” 

I point out, “It took a long time today before we got to the fire ring up on Laurel Prong.” I shake my head, “There is no way we would have found that small clearing in the woods, in the dark, in the rain. Just no way.” 

Ted shrugs and tightens his lips in a way that tells me he totally knows he saved our lives and probably saved some fire and rescue resources too. Ultimately, he saved lives and tax dollars! Funeral expenses, you name it. Some rules are meant to be broken. 

“Well, don’t ever put anything on social media,” Ted says. 

“Absolutely. We get it!” SunFlo says. “We stayed in that Fisherman’s Camp just outside the park. That was scandalous enough. That’s our story and we’re sticking to it.” 

Ted smiles relieved. 

“Mums the word,” Sunshine says. 

My eyes see people coming our way. Look who it is!   

Rounding the stage area are Tank and Frodo! I am delighted that my favorite groom candidates arrived for the girls. 

SunFloJo smiles and waves them over. 

Ted grins at how our obvious plan works when Tank and Frodo approach our table with the only available chairs right next to our dear Sunshine Rat and Stalker C. Ted understands. Ted is seasoned like SunFloJo and me.   

The young males have showered also. They have big smiles on their faces. Perhaps they are happy that we are where we said we would be. And the idea of Tap Room food probably is exciting. 

Small talk begins at the younger end of the table. I zone out to simply take in this moment.   

Ted talks with SunFloJo about his interest in gemstones and about his plans to begin foster dog transport soon. Ted is an all-around good guy. 

The young musician tests her guitar on stage. She smiles and strums to see if the instrument is in tune. The dad beams with pride. He also eyes the audience with a protective stare. Then he looks at his daughter with total admiration and love. 

A sound crackle occurs, then becomes clear. 

“Thanks for being here tonight, y’all,” Brieanna speaks into the microphone. “This is a good crowd.”   

Hmm, thanks to us. 

Brieanna smiles. I come out of my trance. The checkered tablecloth covered tables are full of folks and the bar has only one seat open.  It’s hard to tell because so many of us now look clean, but I am fairly certain at least a quarter of the room are people we met and invited along the way. 

The crowd gasps in a good way when Brieanna begins to sing Jolene.  

People approve of her voice. Smiles are contagious around the room.   

I notice that if Frodo had a tail, it would wag. He is very impressed by her. 

Brieanna slows down the lyrics to end with, “Please don’t take him even though you can….” 

Hands clap and whistles woot in the air. 

“Thank you,” Brieanna says.  “Thank you.” 

The audience is ready for more. She says, “Now I need some volunteers.”   

Hands raise fast at our table. That is, SunFloJo and my hands go up and point toward our young friends. 

“Well, alright then. This group right here is ready to have some fun,” Brieanna says and waves Tank and Sunshine up to the stage.   

To listen to this chapter via the Surrender On The Trail Podcast, click here.

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY 

Let your eyes look directly forward, and your gaze be straight before you. Ponder the path

of your feet; then all your ways will be sure. ~ Proverbs 4:25-26

We’ve got this.   

I feel stronger after a little rest and protein. We trek south. 

As we walk, SunFloJo asks me, “Why do you think that one guy thinks I’m SteelCut?” 

“I think he was saying that he can tell that you’re tough.” I answer, then add, “Which is true.” 

“Really?” 

“Really.” I see she doesn’t believe me. “Well, we can look up definitions in the online dictionary when we get back to Big Meadow.” 

“Hm. I suppose.” 

“I think it’s a compliment. SteelCut fits. Could be your new trail name.” 

“Thanks, Surrender.”    

Our path is about two feet wide with gradual downhill then uphill slopes. Eventually the drop over the mountain to our left becomes the drop over the mountain to our right. 

Foot traffic meetings increase. 

We need a break just as a tall shirtless young man approaches. 

“What’s your trail name?” We ask. 

He smiles through a developing beard, “Doc.” 

“And how come that name?” SunFloJo inquires. 

“Because I’m working on my doctorate and decided to take the summer off to clear my head and walk the AT,” He responds. “My friends thought that was a good fit, and I liked it.” 

Nice.  

Stalker C occasionally dings her bear bell as we hike. Sometimes the quick path elevation change causes the bell to ring on its own also. 

We walk and see another shirtless man, not as tall, sitting on a tree stump. His hair is dark and loosely curled around his head. His skin is a smooth, a deep olive tone. He peels socks from his feet. 

“Hi there,” says SunFloJo. I can tell she is in an interview mode. 

This guy is reluctant to speak at all until SunFloJo says, “Oh, I see you’re doing a sock change. Smart.” 

Yep, that got him. He says, “Yes. Changing socks is one of the best things you can do out here.” 

Sunshine Rat says, “Do you have any more tips?” 

SunFloJo follows with, “I would love to know how you pack your food.” 

“Ok,” He obliges and opens his backpack. “This is my protein. He points to various jerky meats. This is my mini stove. I cook pasta in there from a ready-made bag in the evening.” 

“Uh huh. Mm,” SunFloJo listens as if she doesn’t have the same exact things in her bag. 

“What’s your trail name?” Stalker C asks. 

“Hawaii.” 

Great name. I estimate he is a thru-hiker. I ask, “What mile are you on?” 

“940.”   

SunFloJo asks, “Do we look like thru-hikers?” 

“No,” Hawaii responds quickly. 

SunFloJo laughs. “How can you tell? No one ever asks us our trail names.” 

Hawaii looks us up and down, “Well, your packs are too heavy for one thing.” 

Hey, I have met thru hikers who had as big or bigger packs than us.    

A fly or gnat flies in my mouth. I spit it out to the side of the trail without leaning my body or gagging. Wow, I have become one with the wild. 

I stop listening to Hawaii’s tips for the most part. I hear him say something about packing toothpaste in a tiny baggie instead of a small tube. He stops in a town about every 4th or 5th day for a rest.  He gathers and stuffs items back into his bag and stands up. He’s ready to head north, the opposite direction we are going. 

As he takes off in stride, he turns to shout back at us, mainly to Stalker C, “And you don’t need that bear bell!” 

SunFloJo, Sunshine Rat and I laugh. Stalker C reaches back to the bell and says to our group, “Oh, yes, I do.” 

We walk on. This part of the forest makes me think of the first Disney movie I saw in the theater as a child: Snow White. I visualize the Seven Dwarfs marching along this area. 

The trail takes a steep but short dip near a cliff’s edge. We still giggle over our interaction with Hawaii when we see a guy and girl sitting on a log. SunFloJo says, “Sorry if we were a little loud on the approach.” 

“Oh, don’t worry,” the guy says. “We just saw a bobcat so a little noise is probably a good thing.”   

The girl nods. 

I suppose that means bobcats can be aggressive. 

“Hey, we’re all meeting up at the Tap Room tonight at Big Meadow if you want to join us,” SunFloJo says. I notice the couple smiles.  

Sometimes it’s just nice to be invited. 

The girl says, “We’ll keep that in mind. I think the Tap Room is close to where we heard you can get blackberry shakes in Big Meadow. Hikers say they are delicious.” 

Wow. Something cold sounds amazing right now. I’ve never had a blackberry shake. 

Rounding another part of the trail we see a woman. She’s solo. Her sandy blonde hair is in two braids. She wears a purplish blue skort. 

“Are you a thru hiker?” 

“Yes, I am,” She proudly stops to chat. “I probably look a little clean because last night I got a shower.” 

“Yay, you’re doing it,” Sunshine is impressed. “What is your trail name?” 

“Patches.” 

She shares that she is at mile 1200 and pressing onward. She is doing the trail north to south. She began in Maine and is headed to Georgia. 

We are getting close to Bearfence Rock Scramble. I remember the description on the map:  

1.2 mile circuit hike to a spectacular 360° view. Short but challenging hike with a rock scramble —do not attempt when rocks are wet. Pets are not allowed on this trail. Only attempt if you have  good balance. 

I do not have good balance at this point of the trip. Anything could knock me over. Or knock me to my death if I attempt Bearfence Rock Scramble. 

We slope down a hill, then back up again. We manage a dip, another incline, then a decline and so forth. This is a roller coaster of a trail. 

Turns out we weren’t so close to Bearfence afterall.  

We are tired.  Sitting on rocks or logs here and there becomes more frequent. 

“Hi,” A young tall, bearded guy and an average height dark curly haired guy approach. 

They need to catch their breath, and so do we. Their panting looks more graceful than ours, like they’ve been hiking fast for several miles. Rest is a mere formality for them. 

My marriage potential radar lights up on behalf of my Steam Team friends. 

“I’m Tank,” says the tall one. 

“And I’m Frodo,” says the other. Oh, look! He has a ring around his neck like Lord of the Rings. He even looks like Elijah Woods with his big blue eyes.   

Frodo affirms the story of his name, “A girl early on the trail said I look like Frodo. Then some Cracker Jack box had this ring inside of it. I was like ‘perfect’. So, I found this cord to tie it around my neck.” 

Sunshine eyes Tank, but fatigue brings her down—literally. She and Stalker C sit on rocks near our conversation but are not completely in the conversation. 

Not to worry. SunFloJo and I have matchmaking responsibilities covered. 

I ask, “And how did you get the name Tank?” 

He proudly says, “Cause at the beginning of the trail people were amazed by how quickly I climbed up hills like a tank.”   

SunFloJo asks, “So you started in Georgia?” 

They nod and say, “Yes.” 

“When are you hoping to finish?” 

“By October. We were making good time, but I had to go home for a few weeks because of a leg injury,” Tank says. 

“And I went with him,” Frodo says. 

I ask, “So were you friends before the trail?” 

Frodo smiles, “No. That’s the funny thing. You meet up with people at the beginning of the AT season and you just never know who you will click with. We clicked, and we didn’t want to lose the teamwork that was kind of natural to us. We are in this to the end.” 

“That is awesome,” I say. I glance at exhausted Stalker C and Sunshine Rat. This really should be you two chatting over here. 

SunFloJo extends our invite, “We are going to be at The Tap Room tonight at Big Meadow Campground if you want to come join us. They have some yummy appetizers and drinks.” 

Frodo’s face lights up a bit. He’s the more social one, I think. He says, “That’s where we plan to camp tonight.” He smiles, “Maybe we’ll see you there.” 

Tank nods. 

“Great,” I say. 

Tank and Frodo exchange see-you-laters with us and head north. 

We hike toward Lewis Mountain where our car is, but everyone else seems to be walking in the direction of Big Meadow. 

We continue south for a while and then take a break to sit on logs facing one another. I say, “Girls, you kinda held back back there.” 

Sunshine Rat smirks. Her knowing look, green buff that surrounds her head, and matching backpack make my heart smile. We are all dirt covered and sweat glistened. 

Stalker C forms her cheeks a bit like Shirley Temple when she says, “Oh you two had us covered. You didn’t need us back there. We could rest up while you two did the talking.” 

SunFloJo turns to me, “’Cause I’m the grandma and you’re the mom type.” 

I smile, “That’s right.” 

We stand up. Our muscles may snap. Soreness runs deep. 

Soon we make it to the BearFace Scramble extra trail entrance.  

And by soon, I mean it took forever. We wondered several times if we were still on the correct course. 

I quietly hope no one wants to do the 360-degree view with tricky footing. There is no way I can safely crawl around the most dangerous of rocks in this area especially with a backpack. 

A young college man emerges from a side trail, “Hi, he says.”  

I curse the size of his itty-bitty water supply on his back. That’s it. Nothing else. And he looks so…clean

Sunshine Rat asks because of his t-shirt, “Are you from JMU?” 

“Yeah.” 

We saw James Madison University on our drive.   

He continues, “My mom is down here doing a section hike. I’m going to do BearFace and then go meet her later.” 

SunFlo offers, “Well if you want to take her to the Tap Room at Big Meadow tonight, that’s where the party will be. We’re going to be there and we’re inviting everyone we meet to join us.” 

I sense a snicker from the Stalker C who is sitting on a rock.  

SunFloJo, er or SteelCut if she accepts that new name, learns more about him. It is fun to see her social skills in action.  

This candidate is studying economics. He’s not 100% sure which career field he wants, but he has time to figure that out since he is a sophomore. 

In response to the invite he says, “Sounds fun.  I’ll keep that in mind.” He flashes a perfect smile and heads up the rocks that form a staircase leading to BearFace. 

I turn to the girls, “Does anyone want to do BearFace?” 

Stalker C says, “Definitely not.” 

Whew! 

We later learn that people do BearFace without big packs. Sounds like a good day trip only to me. I suppose we could have left our packs on the AT and walked up, but the extra path is over a mile. No one has extra miles left in their legs. 

The hike continues. 

Stalker C pauses to pee while we turn our heads.  Funny, she does not even take the backpack off this time.   

We’re girls just doing what we must do. That takes talent and skill, Stalker C! 

No one seems disappointed about not doing BearFace. I am so glad. I don’t want to be the reason anyone misses anything.   

We trek onward. Rocks become plentiful as we climb higher on the trail. There are big rocks, sometimes wobbly under foot. My poles are part of my body at this point.  

We, the poles and I, do the best we can.  

Man, I’m tired. I sense total body shut down threatening my ability to finish. 

The younger girls sense the end is near and surge ahead of us. It is weird to not hear, see, or catch up to them anymore.   

SunFloJo could totally keep up with the girls. But when she notices that I lag, she walks back to me and talks me through.  

I can no longer speak or respond.   

Pole step, one foot, pole, the other foot, repeat. That’s where I am, all my focus is on poles and feet.   

Sweat is an extra layer of clothes, heavy. Flies drive me nuts. 

I see sunlight through the trees. Is there hope? The path appears to end.  

Is that the end? Could it be?! 

Nope. 

Would you rather listen to the story? Check out this chapter at the Surrender On The Trail PODCAST.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

We all stumble in many ways….

James 3:2

Stalker C does not pass out although her eyes may pop out of her head any minute. Her mouth remains slightly open.

Nightfall is near. The hours of rain bring darkness sooner than we anticipated.

SunFloJo looks at my camera and then nods toward the poo.

After waiting until Stalker C moves ahead of us, I take a picture of the bear scat.

“Thank you, sweetie,” SunFloJo says.

It is unclear if the poo pic is evidence for the search party when we go missing after a bear drags us away or for a tale to tell when we get back home. I do not ask.

We walk on through the increasingly dense trees.

Inside my head I chuckle. Turns out a bear does **** in the woods.

And with that thought, I instantly am in a squelched fit of giggles at the back of the line. I silently consider the creation of greeting cards and funny texts and who-knows-what marketing hype around the bear scat theme. Perhaps I am delirious at this point of the day?

I fall further behind, but I see the Steam Team’s colored backpacks ahead through the rain and dripping leaves. The trail leads us down, down, step over poo, down, more poo, down. Slide. Adjust footing. Down. We hear water flowing. It grows louder. Maybe there is a creek up due to the rain.

We must be getting close to Rapidan Camp. This is what I have been waiting for! 

Despite the water sounds, there is still more trail and time for my mind to wander. I think about our friend Deb and feel her in spirit. I bet she is thinking about us too. Perhaps she is looking at a copy of our trail plan. She likes historical places. We share that in common. I think about how she crafted the trail questions knowing that all four of us are at crossroads in our lives. 

The three ahead of me pause. I catch up with the group. I am out of breath. Maybe we will take time to rest.

What. Is. That? 

The group faces a fast-paced waterfall that crashes into something much more than a creek. It is a river.

As I contemplate the beauty of the waterfall–I want to soak in all the beauty today—I am surprised that SunFloJo begins to cross the river! 

Wait a minute.

Have we thought this through?

There is a big gap between the land I stand on and the land on the other side. With all the rain today, the water flows fast. The water looks deep. Much deeper than a creek anyway. We stand at the foot of the mountain we just descended and across from us is a new mountain to ascend.

My brain searches my memory of the map. I do not remember crossing a river at any point on the trail.

Is this Rapidan River?

I look down our side of the riverbank. Shouldn’t we be going that way? Along the river on this side instead of crossing it?

That may be an overgrown path to our left. It is hard to tell and just out of my reach. I can see debris and trees that are uprooted in the mud covering what may be where our trail goes. That looks like more of a trail to me. I am too tired to walk over and investigate. Every calorie burned matters at this point in the day. Also, I do not want to risk being lost from the team.

Why am I so darn slow that I catch up after decisions are made? Can we talk about this?

Nature is loud here. There is no talking.

SunFloJo is three large wet rocks into the river right along the bottom of the falls where the river is white from the rush of rapids. To the left of her looks deep and moves fast.

I squint to see a tree with a yellow blaze symbol on the other side of the river. Wow, I guess we are physically crossing the river. I was not expecting this at all.

Fearless SunFloJo looks back at us and points to the tree on the other side with a yellow blaze. I choose to trust that she knows what she is doing. That must be the blaze we are looking for to continue the trail. I must be wrong about staying on this side of the river.

Does she not know there is water underfoot that will take her away? Or is that just me being overly cautious?

Sunshine Rat is carefree with good balance. She makes it to the other side and waits for us.

Stalker C sways on a rock, then catches herself. She makes it.

I begin.

One rock. Two. Step, step. Rain continues. The sky is a dark green gray. My pack is heavy. Will the pack ruin my balance? Will I fall? The water races beneath me. One slip will be trouble. Please do not fall.

I use my poles to steady myself hoping they will not slip either.

Sunshine Rat points, “Watch that one. It’s wiggly.”

That was nice of her. I step quickly right, left, into the mud and arrive at the opposite side of the river. 

Whew! “Thanks.”

And then we are off on what feels like a fresh start. How can we start a new journey this late in the day? I am not sure what time it is. I wonder where in the heck is Rapidan Camp?

My concerns quickly fade because there is a new type of beauty over here. It is hard to imagine how each area could be so new to me in the woods, but this is different. My mind is all in even if my body screams. There is black earth underfoot with skinny trees and leaves stretching to a sky we cannot see. We climb up the hill, higher and higher above the river.

This takes a bit of physical effort, but thank you, Lord, this is gorgeous. Rain is heavy now and I do not care.  We make it to a ridge pathway that overlooks the river to our left down below. The river looks smaller as we travel higher.

We walk and walk. I ease into meditation again. No words come to mind. I am at peace. My mind is blank.

Nothing.

Bliss. Beauty.

Water drips from my eyelashes.

Higher and higher we climb. I forget the concern I felt when we crossed the river. I forget how tired my body is. 

We hear the water below and feel drops from the sky. My walking poncho tent somewhat keeps my backpack dry.

I remain in the back of the line. SunFloJo turns to check on me occasionally. I nod to acknowledge her kindness.

Now the trail slopes back down the hill overlooking what I still assume is Rapidan River.

The day feels like it gets longer and longer, but the dark sky seems to think the day is already done.  Hopefully, we get in and out of Rapidan Camp soon. We may only have a short visit since we have to walk another 1.5 miles after visiting in order to set up tents for the night.

Down the hill below me I see Sunshine Rat and SunFloJo pull out the official map. They consult with one another. They look serious. This barely registers in my brain because I am one with the trees.

Like me, Stalker C must have been in a Zen state. She abruptly stops her downhill inertia in order to not run over SunFloJo and Sunshine Rat. 

As I approach, Stalker C’s face turns in horror to look at me. In slow motion, her mouth says, “We might be lost. We might have gone the wrong way.”

This news is a magnesium fire starter. Flames engulf my peace.

With zero thought, words fly out of my mouth, “We should not have crossed that #*&%@%^ river!”

© Copyright 2016 Surrender On The Trail – Glenna S. Edwards

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CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER THIRTEEEN

Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you.

James 4:8

We continue eating. Deer join us to nibble grass nearby. I appreciate their regal confidence. Rosemary and her friends have become a sporadic spiritual presence for us. I imagine them saying, “Hello there. Just checking in on you girls.”

Zippers close and last gulps of water enter our bodies. We load our backpacks. “Don’t be afraid to pull your straps,” Sunshine says.

“We’re not afraid,” Our voices tell the universe.

We turn south on the AT. 

I am delighted by the immediate difference in terrain. The tall grass is soft. The path is not hilly or rocky, it is mostly just dirt beneath my thankful feet. Trees tower above forming a skinny tree version of a canopy with plenty of light rays offering warm touches along the way. This is how I envisioned the trail would be before we came. 

We walk by a small graveyard without pausing to read any of the crumbling headstones. Then we enter a thicker section of the forest. Our legs walk faster than we have on any of the other sections. I remain the caboose, but I can see each team member easily in this stretch.

The tree canopy thickens. The path becomes lush, there’s so much beauty! Ferns cover the ground as if it could be a fairy playground in a child’s movie. I imagine magical creatures hopping among the fronds.

“Hold up,” I say.

I pull out Ben’s camera and take pictures of “us on the trail” in rows, in pairs, in hiking mode, and of course a group selfie. Once the moment is captured in post card worthy fashion, we carry on.

Ferns feather the ground as far as we can see on either side of the trail under the tall trees. I feel good. I sense the miracles around me.

Fallen trees decay and look wet here and there along the way. Sun rays filter through the leaves for a while, but our wooded room grows darker. There was a forecast for possible rain today. I am ok with rain if the trail keeps on like this. Dirt or mud below my feet is welcomed over rocks.

Silence blankets our group as if we enter a state of Zen walking. We are spaced about four feet between each of us. SunFloJo peeks behind her to make sure I bring up the rear ok. I truck along well.

I begin to think of a mental gratitude list. I’m grateful for each of my children. I think of their qualities, personalities, and talents. I thank God for bringing them into my life. 

Jacob leaving for basic training in the Air Force will hurt this momma, but oh how awesome it is that he will go do what he longs to do. He has wanted to be in the military since middle school. If he were here, he would zoom along this trail. His body is fit and ready for his next phase of life.

Ben is going to high school. Where has the time gone? I love his humor. I wish he were hiking with me. I miss him.

I am thankful to work with children, young people, and families. How many people at my age or older have dreams that they wish they did and now regret not doing? We went for it. After eleven years and 6,433 students served in some way, how can I say that this dream was a mistake?    

I think of Paul and how he helped me get ready for this trip. He could have given me a hard time, but he did not. He provides for us in unique little ways. Like the way he gathers school supplies for the boys every August, labeling each boy’s items with their name. Or the way he helps keep the laundry going or how he makes breakfast on weekends sometimes. That man makes the best scrambled eggs.

He may be wondering how I am doing right now with no cell phone and knowing that tonight is the night that we will be furthest from help. In my mind, I send him an “I’m ok” telepathy message. We’re going to get through this. We’ll be fine.

I am Surrender, and I am beginning to surrender. I feel it.   

Thank you, God, for the opportunity to be fully present here.

The sky turns even darker, and I don’t care. Somewhere in my bag is raingear when I need it.

The bear bell rings. And rings again. Stalker C contorts her arm and elbow to reach it. We must be too quiet for her taste. She is not taking chances.

Sunshine Rat, SunFloJo and Stalker C lean their packs and bodies against a rock. I catch up and lean also.

“Girls,” Sunshine checks her boob-o-meter. “We have been walking at a 22-minute mile pace for the last 2 miles!”

“That’s amazing.” SunFloJo acknowledges and then wanders into a thicket to pee.

“We’ll be at Rapidan Camp before we know it,” I say.

Rapidan was built for President Hoover, his family and guests. I’ve been looking forward to seeing it since looking it up on the internet. How many times do you walk to a historic site and then walk away from a historic site without the aid of a car or other transportation?

“It’s after 2pm now. We’re making fairly good time,” Sunshine says.

Stalker C’s face says what is on her mind. She remains concerned about sleeping in the woods tonight. 

Eh, we can do it. We are a team. 

But this is not going to be pleasant smell wise. Sweat is building up. I am sorry for the stink in advance, SunFloJo. Two people in a one-person tent makes me nervous only to be trumped by the thought of anticipating the fear we may experience when it becomes completely dark among the trees. 

Deep breath. We can do this.

Sunshine says, “I feel like I could carry on farther than I ever thought I could if the trail was like this all the time.”

We agree wholeheartedly, “Right?!”.

A gentle drizzle of rain reaches our arms. The forest protects us from getting more wet for a while.

When the drizzle increases, we each pull out our rain gear. 

I wear my plastic hood on my head and then spread the rest of the jacket over my backpack. This is a perfect set up for light rain. The rest of the Steam Team dresses similarly. We journey on looking like floating jackets and ponchos.

We pass a guy who is headed quickly in the opposite direction. He pauses to tell us that he is supposed to catch up with other AT hikers who are having burgers tonight. He left one friend behind who is having foot problems. She will catch up with him and their friends soon. I can tell the idea of having burgers is a big deal to him. He does not want to miss it. I picture the group of young, attractive, dirt covered hikers including unshaven guys like him meeting up later to chow on meat with whatever condiments happen to be around and loving every moment.

The rain continues.

Then we see increased light because we arrive at a road. It is Skyline Drive. Huh. We are going to cross a perfectly good road that leads to civilization in order to continue our trail on the other side. Sigh. 

So far, we are the good kind of tired. The gentle rain feels like a friend you have not gotten to spend this much time with in a while.

The road is on an incline. We turn to look both ways before crossing. When we see a beautiful person coming down the hill, we pause.

She is tan, wears navy athletic shorts, has two dark hair braids and may be limping. There is something striking about her olive skin and deep brown hair.

“Hi,” she says.

“What is your trail name?” SunFloJo asks.

She winces, “Sacagawea.”

“My foot is killing me,” Sacagawea says. “We’ve been walking since March. In the last town back, I had it checked out. I have a hairline fracture.”

“Oh!” The Steam Team all chime in making the connection to the last guy we passed.

Walking since March rattles around in my brain.

SunFloJo continues, “We passed a guy headed that way.” She points behind us. “He said you all are meeting someone for burgers tonight.”

“Yes!” She lights up.

We say farewell. Sacagawea heads into our beloved canopy trail. I say a prayer for her foot.

The Steam Team crosses the road and enters the next forest. Soon we see a trail marker post. 

We depart the AT and head left down the mountain via Mill Prong Trail.

The rain is steady. I am excited because based on my memory of the map, Mill Prong is not a far stretch down to Rapidan. 

I declare in my mind that Stalker C will get through this night. No bears or reptiles will get us. She is tense. I want to tell her not to worry, but I don’t think that will help. 

I am so glad I decided to continue today. 

I carry my water bottle and drink as we descend. I have had no urge to urinate today which by now is not a good thing. I am probably somewhat dehydrated.

As if a different picture clicks in our Viewmaster, this part of the trail is beautiful in new ways. We descend over and around mossy green rocks. There are gradual twists and turns leading into a valley of bright greens and browns.

Down, down, down.

I am not going to think about how my feet hurt from the number of hours we have been walking. Cannot be too much further.

Down, down, down. We cross over streams of water. 

Hearing the rain and watching a rushing stream of water is almost too much joy for my Aquarius born soul. The sounds combine to create a forest symphony.

Almost out of drinking water, we pause to purify and refill water bottles from a creek. 

Oh, this is the real thing now. We are roughing it! We will get water from the land–a gift from the earth. 

Hmmm…should I trust SunFloJo’s aqua straw to purify my water or should I have her purify AND then add a purification tab that I have in my pack?

I think it over as she attaches my water bottle neck to her purifying straw.  For a moment I consider how awful it would be to have diarrhea out here tonight if something fails with the purification process. Um…Exhale. Dismiss that thought.

I choose to trust her straw and leave my emergency tabs in my backpack. I brought the tabs only as a last resort if for some reason we become separated.

We do not fall into the creek as we steady ourselves on rocks to reach the water flow with our bottles. I consider not falling a big bonus. 

The creek rocks are slippery. Injury right now would be terrible. At this point, we would not be able to walk out of the woods before dark. And it already feels like near dark or late dusk due to the weather.  

After crossing the first stream, I attempt to get back to my gratitude thoughts like earlier. I say thanks to my Higher Power for every person I can think of…for food, for shelter, for clothing, for my life back home. I am not quite as meditative as before, but close. 

I sense that some of the anger I could not shake before this trip is releasing, breaking up slowly like bad plaque in arteries. I visualize releasing tension several times.

And I picture letting go of Jacob, our first-born son.  He is determined to protect and fight for our country.  What a noble and brave young man. He was only ours to raise for a while.  He is his own being.  He is created for a purpose greater than what I can imagine or what I can offer from the home that helped mold him for this time in his life.

Down, down, down through the trees. Around. Down, down over rocks. Around. Down, down, down through an increasingly wet wood. Raindrops collect in my hair and drip onto my nose and lips. This is taking longer than I anticipated, but that is not a new feeling this week.

There is more water to cross. This stream of water is bigger, and the rocks look shiny. We pause before crossing to sit on two long tree trunks that have fallen.

“I’m kind of done,” Stalker C says. 

Exhaustion sets into our bones. What we can see of the sky is grey. Drizzle continues. The stretchy buff around my head absorbs some of the rain drops before the rest slip into my eyes.

Sunshine says to her dear friend, “You can do it.”

We sit quiet with shoulders slumped.

Sitting on the log while still wearing the backpack is affecting my body. I wiggle to deal with an odd sensation. I share, “I think my lady parts are numb.” 

Stalker C snorts a little laugh.

I continue, “How is that even possible? Nothing else is asleep; just my downtown area.”

SunFloJo crosses the mini river with zero slippery rock issues. She is off to scout ahead of us a bit.

Sunshine Rat chuckles, “Can you imagine that phone call? Doctor, when I sit on rocks my genitals fall asleep.”

“Yeah, then don’t sit on rocks the doc might say,” Stalker C shakes her head. I know she is tired; we are all tired. 

In fact, I may be too tired to be tired right now. If we do not get swept away by this water source, this will be a good day. I cling to the meditative nature of this afternoon. I have had time to sort thoughts and cherish beauty. 

Stalker C says to Sunshine, “I want you to cut off my foot. Like right now.”

SunFloJo appears at the other side of the creek. We stand up, but my girly numbness continues.

I am last across the creek, relieved that I did not stumble. The water moves quickly.

“Here,” I give one of my trekking poles to Stalker C. The pole might help her take pressure off her toes. I can manage with one now. We are still going downhill. The rocks are only about half as plentiful as when we were back on Lewis Falls Trail.  How long ago Lewis seems. Was that really this morning, just earlier today? 

The trail beat beats on. Mill Prong was only supposed to be 1.8 miles. We are well over that by now.  Anticipating that we will see Rapidan soon, I carry the camera in my hand.

Our protectors, the trees, thicken, making our path even darker. Somehow, we still walk downhill over more rocks and turn on more twists.

We start to see piles of scat on the trail. It’s like we’ve entered nature’s public restroom.

I remember on the map that there is a horse trail somewhere around here. I know what horse poo looks like. Some of this is horse.

And some of it is not horse.

Stalker C eyes the piles.

I give her body language that says “Nah, that’s not bear. Nothing to worry about.”

But I remember the scat chart from Cub Scouts and the paw print chart too. Scanning my memory, I am fairly sure that is bear poo. And bear paw prints.

Yeah, I’m totally sure.

Stalker C quizzes me. She looks at a pile then looks at me.

I respond, “Deer.”

She looks at another.

“Horse.”

SunFloJo is looking at certain piles with interest. She knows what I know.

Sunshine Rat is ahead of us. I see her side stepping to stay balanced down the wet hill.

Stalker C looks at what SunFlo is looking at.

I shrug my shoulders. Bear. Shh! Definitely bear.

And another pile. And another. All bear. Oh my goodness.

“Ring the bell,” SunFloJo says.

© Copyright 2016 Surrender On The Trail – Glenna S. Edwards

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CHAPTER ELEVEN

Be strong and courageous; do not be frightened or dismayed,

for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.

Joshua 1:9

JUNE 2, 2016

8:15AM

“Birds are loud in the wild,” new friend Sunshine Rat said yesterday; a fact that remains true this morning.

The smell of fresh air whispers through the tent vents. My limbs feel nearly paralyzed, but my bladder screams for attention. I begin the physical journey to get on my knees, unzip the tent, gingerly attempt to stand, stumble, stumble again, then steady my stance.

Ouch. Everything hurts. I trust my body to rebound and take steps toward the bathroom. The grass is soft and damp against my toes along the edge of my flip flops.

After splashing my face with water, I return to open the big brown bear box. The metal is cold to touch. I find the s’more remains and sit down to eat a graham cracker before dismantling my travel home.

SunFloJo crawls out of her tent. We practice telepathy for a few minutes. She wonders about my status, my plan. I nod hello. A simple good morning acknowledgement is all I have figured out so far. I am thinking over the situation.

I appreciate the silence, though it feels like we have a conversation. I am not a morning talker in the city or in the woods. 

SunFloJo walks to get coffee for her and Sunshine from the Big Meadow camp store.

Upon return, she sets coffee cups with lids over the embers still warm from last night.  Sunshine will be happy to find coffee when she wakes up.

SunFloJo murmurs in my direction, “How ya doing?”

Moment of truth.

Slowly I dare to say, “I think I can do it.”

“Really?!” Her face is sincere, “I am thrilled. That is great news.”

“Benadryl is a pal. Semi solid sleep made a difference. Thank you.”

SunFloJo does not skip a beat. She shares her morning research, “I learned at the camp store that they don’t have places to store things, but we can rent campsite #2 and leave stuff in the bear box. I bet that will be helpful to all of us. Now that we know what we really need, we can leave the rest behind.”

“Wonderful,” I say.

“But there is a catch. We have to put up a tent so the site appears occupied.”

She continues, “Do you think you and I could put up your tent at site #2 and then sleep together in my tent tonight?” 

SunFloJo’s tent is the same size as mine, built for a party of one. I think about what a tight fit that will be for two people and how smelly we will be after another full day of hiking.

Then I think of not hiking with the weight of a tent, “Yes, I think we can do it.”

We can do anything for one night, right?

“I’m going to start unloading items into campsite #2’s bear box now,” I say.

“And we’ll switch shoes,” SunFloJo states. 

I will not argue. My toe pain was out of control yesterday. I do not think I can do that again. Wide toed hiking boots? I’m in.

We get busy unpacking, re-packing and setting up campsite #2. We leave behind every ounce of weight that we can. 

I debate leaving my emergency urinal but decide to keep it in my bag. It is light compared to the other items I toss. I take one change of underwear, one pair of shorts, and one pair of socks just in case I rip or mess my current Boy Scout clothes beyond the ability to wear them. I leave all but one bag of food. I can barely eat when exhausted anyway. 

The girls awaken. We compare items and select any duplicates that can stay behind.

Stalker C says to me, “You’re going?”

“Yes.”

“Good!” And then, “Thank God for Benadryl.” Sleep helped her too.

I agree.    

Sunshine Rat emerges wearing an emergency foil blanket wrapped around her. The foil is remarkably lightweight and only cost $1.59 at REI. I have one too, but it is on my leave behind list. Sunshine Rat smiles when she finds her coffee.

I am thankful to drop 10-15 pounds of stuff and hope I do not miss or regret leaving anything here.

A deer munches on grass next to campsite #9 in time to say good morning to Stalker C. Later a different deer eats near the bathroom. I suspect Rosemary and her representatives are expressing their solidarity with us and our adjusted plans. Sunshine Rat tries to get close to the deer for pictures.

I scan nature’s beauty across the horizon. The green is so alive in Shenandoah. Surely, I can come alive too.

Campsite #2’s ghost tent is set up. The bear box is half full.

MID MORNING

It is time to get back on the trail.

This is another no turning back type moment. I try to visualize sleeping next to random trees tonight. By nightfall we should be somewhere between Fort Mountain and Cat Knob along Laurel Prong which is the trail after we visit historic Rapidan Camp. I hope we can find the fire ring.

As a child and then as an adult with kids, I took tours of caves like Mammoth Cave in southwest Kentucky. During the excursion Park Rangers turned off the lights and told us to look at our hand. It was so dark that you could not see your hand at all. That is the type of dark I anticipate tonight minus a Park Ranger being available to flip back on the earth’s light switch.

I am not sure our headlamps will cut through the heavy darkness that will surround us. And if the mini lights do work, I am not sure I want to see animal eyes that might watch us.

SunFloJo’s boots are laced around my ankles. I wear the red backpack and adjust the straps, remembering both YouTube videos and instructions from Dick.

“We are not afraid to pull our straps,” we say in honor of Dick’s lessons.

“Don’t be afraid,” Stalker C says with her mouth in the shape of an “o” that reminds me of a Shirley Temple facial expression. Everyone’s backpacks are in position now.

Sunshine nods, “Yep, just pull those straps. Don’t be afraid.”

Are we really doing this?

Surveying the body language of the group, I think everyone is a little nervous about tonight.

Because bears.

Stalker C reaches back to ring her bear bell. Her eyes widen when I look her way. SunFloJo consults her map one more time. She zips all but Flat Kevin’s head in a pocket so he can see the journey from her backpack.

We pass 30 other campsites and cross the blacktop heading toward Big Meadow Amphitheater. We look for our first route of the day:  Lewis Falls Trail.

We find the sign and enter the woods.

Ten steps onto the path, day hikers pass us immediately. Something catches my eye.

Was that a gun?

Two guns?

Sure enough, one couple is packing heat in their matching holsters and carrying small water bottles. They are out of sight quickly. I am glad.

The trail has lots of jumbled rocks underfoot. My feet manage much better today. And SunFloJo seems to sail along in my magic boots. I say silent prayers of gratitude.

Sunshine Rat says, “Let’s play a game.”

We agree.

“It’s The Centipede Game because we see so many of them along the trail.”

Sunshine continues, “Every centipede is 1 point.”

“A dead centipede is .5 points.”

“A deer is 50 points.”

“Bears are 100 points,” Sunshine says despite Stalker C’s “no” head shake in protest.

We decide a snake is -50 points.

“Chipmunks are 5 points.”

The consensus is that every time we reach 52 points then that equals 1 beer in the Tap Room at the end of the trip. I am not a beer drinker, but goals are probably a good idea.  

I hang at the back of the line. SunFloJo and Sunshine Rat lead. Stalker C is just ahead of me. 

Every few minutes the front of the line yells back, “1 point.”

“1 point.”

“.5” and so forth.

Over rocks, along a mountain ridge…

down,

down.

Don’t twist that ankle! Whew. Caught my balance. Thanks for the help, Trekking Poles.

More rocks, and more straight down yet I still feel we are at a high elevation in the forest. I keep an eye out for the waterfall this leg is named after.

Hands fly up and a jubilation cry occurs when we hear “52!” from the front of the line.

Like an accordion we fan out and then shrink closer to one another as the front of the line either rests or slows down to allow me to catch up. I overhear new topics of conversation.

“What do you think the pattern is, SunFlo?” Sunshine Rat asks.

“Could it be distance in-between?”

Sunshine, “I don’t think so. The spacing between marks varies.”

I eventually realize they are talking about the blaze trail marks on the trees. I have been wondering about those too. 

The “blaze” is a vertical rectangle painted on occasional trees that come in various colors to assure that you are on the correct trail. The White Blaze is the Appalachian Trail. We have seen yellow or blue rectangles on some of our connecting trails.

“Steep rocks,” Stalker C warns me of what is coming up.

Have they not been steep already? I grip my poles tightly.

“I think we’re almost there,” SunFloJo calls out to encourage me. We have been “almost there” about four times so far. 

Down, down, down. Up and over bigger rocks that I belly crawl over. Repeat.

And then we arrive at Lewis Springs Falls. I expected us to be at the bottom of a waterfall right where the water pours into a creek or river, but we face the middle of the rushing falls. If a waterfall wore a belt, we could touch it.

Above us, we see where the water tumbles over a large rock to begin the falls.

Below us, I cannot see exactly how far the water descends.

I am careful not to step too close to the edge that is comprised of wet rocks.

But SunFloJo inches closer.

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Thanks for reading or listening. Check back next Sunday for CHAPTER TWELVE!

Valentine Antidote

It is that day when I promise once again that next year I won’t be in town on Valentine’s Day. I will be with girlfriends or on a beach, on a mountain top, anywhere else doing something–anything–not so ordinary.

Valentine’s Day is a double whammy. It’s also my birthday. Growing up, I loved celebrating with red hearts, white paper lace, pink streamers, balloons and all things Valentine.

As an adult, I realized many people have jumbled emotions linked to February 14. Happy feelings, angry feelings, dread, anger and so forth.

Then I married someone who expresses love inversely to what I anticipated. Let’s just say his first romantic gift was a bright yellow personal alarm to wear on my waist so I could pull the cord for it to wail and screech if someone nefarious came too close to me on my college campus.

We’ve worked it out. It’s taken a lot of tears and years. I’ve learned that the antidote to my occasional sad feels is to have less expectations, ask for something specific if desired, support or help others.

These days, ALS-21 plus a Pandemic make it so Hubby can’t get out to shop, or walk much, or feel good for a full day. I am happy simply when his words are kind. I like thoughtful and kind. Lately, I’ve been quietly thanking the writers of Call The Midwife. Hubby really likes that show. I call it his daily empathy exercise. Women have been through so much and that binge worthy series does not shy away from hard topics.

Speaking of writers, my feel better about Valentine’s Day activity this year was to support authors I care about. I directed Hubby to my wish list and he placed the order. I was excited to open the packages.

Janine Rosche is an author who picked me up off the floor when I received a bad news phone call at a writer’s conference. She prayed with me. Then I found out she was looking for a certain agent to meet. I am thrilled to say they met indeed and are three books into a successful journey. I now have a trifecta of inspirational romance to read:

William Klein’s book was lost in our move so I needed a replacement copy. This is a timely fictional story about a painful border experience.

And Jessica Terry is a writer that cracks me up with her Instagram stories. Like me, she was a basketball player in her youth. We’ve never met. I appreciate her work ethic and passion. So, I soon will read:

Who would you like to support? Someone creative? An organization that does something you value? Church? Someone elderly or ill? Doing a little something for others could brighten your Valentine’s Day. Earlier in the week, I called a couple people who I hadn’t spoken with in a few years. It was a good time on old fashioned phone calls.

Frequently, I think of the verse Love One Another (John 15: 12). Loving others does not result in only one direction of good vibes even when that should be our intention. When you love others, the good feels return to fill your heart and strengthen the weave of the universe.

Still in town,

P.S. Hubby also visited the Shari’s Berries website. Winner. Yum.

But Not The Baby’s Wagon

Once upon a time, back when I thought I was tough, when I believed wholeheartedly that life will be what you make it, when I never cried at movies or much of anything besides a broken heart, my future husband and I took a road trip.

He played his favorite songs through the car cassette player. “Listen to Sammy Kershaw,” he said. “If we are going to get married, then we have to promise never to let this happen.”

The song was Yard Sale. The lyrics played:

Cardboard sign says yard sale
Real estate sign says sold
Family picnic table
Holds all that it can hold
On the grass and on the sidewalk
Well there must be half the town
Ain’t it funny how a broken home
Can bring the prices down

Oh they’re sortin through
What’s left of you and me
Paying yard sale prices
For each golden memory
Oh I never thought
I’d ever live to see
The way they’re sorting through
What’s left you and me

You left two summer dresses
In the backyard on the line
A lady just brought them to me
Says she thinks they’ll fit just fine
Well there goes the baby’s wagon…

By the time the baby’s wagon is sold, my lips are quivering.

Tears. What the heck?

And ever since that 19 year old day, I joined in on his idea of divorce not being an option.

When Hubby was diagnosed in 2017 with ALS-21, soon could no longer work, and he had to crawl if stairs were involved, I saw the dim light arrive over the home we once were determined to grow old in together.

I knew we’d have to leave.

And I knew our very real children’s wagon was in the garage. Do our sons need it anymore? Uh, no. Did we love it and use it a lot? Yes. That wagon toured the neighborhood many days, helped with Halloween, Cub Scout popcorn sales, and gardening.

I have cried about leaving our home for weeks while keeping my body sorting, packing, dragging, etc. Moving out of a home you’ve lived in over 20 years is more of a feat than a project. Plus, when leaving is a “have to”, the work can be extra painful. My heart resisted while my body ran the metaphoric marathon.

Then I learned that a 5 year old is part of the new family who bought our house. Turned out, she would like to have the wagon.

Take that, ALS-21! You can not have our babies’ wagon!

And that made me feel good. The wagon will live on in our neighborhood for a little while longer.

We are 4 hours into condo life without overlap with the house. There is a peace in seeing Hubby get around much better here. My mind & tired body will settle into the peace soon I hope.

Speaking of marathons, next Sunday Lisa Zupan is running 26 miles for two causes. One of the reasons is to help purchase a scooter and car lift for Hubby. If you would like to donate, click here.

God bless you through the many chapters of life.

Love,

Glenna

Goodbye, House.

Have fun, Wagon!

Uber Stress

There was no calming my heartbeat. Blood rushed through my body. My back and head hurt. I was scared.

It took me 3 weeks to set up Uber on my phone. I knew how to use Uber as a passenger. I did not know how to be a driver. The app is so simple that I was confused. I watched driver YouTube videos and tutorials, uploaded my car related documents, but understood little. I gathered that in order to learn, I must go do.

I told Hubby Saturday evening that I was off to try my best. We are in the 10 day financial crunch period of the month so this gal’s gotta make extra dough.

Seemed like there is not much trip action for drivers in Kentucky so I nervously headed toward Ohio to a sketch neighborhood that showed fares available on the map. Gotta rip the band-aid off, I told myself.

Suddenly the phone beeped while I was still in Kentucky. I had a trip request. I pushed “accept”.

The app directed me to Bonefish Grill. I looked for a human, then realized I was there for a food pickup.

Ooohhh.

Inside the building, I felt the little kick in the stomach that sometimes comes when I see couples out having fun. Couples without wheelchairs everywhere.

Aside from that soon squelched jealousy, I wanted to scream, “This is my first time with Uber!”

So many thoughts.

Servers brought the food bag. I hoped it was all in there. I glanced at the number of containers, but I am not familiar with that restaurant’s food.

Off I went 10 miles to find house numbers in the dark.

A nonchalant woman took the food after I called her.

8 dollars earned. Was that enough of a trial run or should I continue?

I see a “$5 bonus for 3 series” trip on the map. I am not far away so I head that direction thinking, What type of person needs 3 back to back trips? Will this be a grandma who needs to run a few errands? At 930pm?

Shows how clueless I am. That was simply an enticement to stay in an area and do multiple trips.

Which was fine, bonus either way. My first passenger was named the same as my best friend’s daughter. That gave me comfort. She was a sweetheart too.

At one point, I felt lonely on top of my newbie anxiety. Then inbetween trips, I received a text from my bestie seeing if I was out giving Uber Driver a go. It meant a lot to be checked on and she reminded me of Joshua 1:9 at the very moment I had made $19.19.

Then our 17yo texted at 11:30pm to ask, “Everything ok?” before he went to bed. That warmed my soul.

I stopped around midnight with 5 total trips and 45 dollars. Thank you to Madeline and Autumn who tipped. I can’t figure out if there is a way to say thanks through the app.

That is all I could handle on a first go. No matter how I tried to be calm, I couldn’t manage to be relaxed in this new arena yet.

I’ll keep my car clean and try to pick up more this week.

For the Lord your God is with you wherever you go. Joshua 1:9

Perspective Is The New Sexy

I felt familiar angst.

My post holiday work schedule climbed quickly to overdrive.

I needed to work, attend meetings and events, write a grant, clean, pack the house, buy groceries, feed the family, transport Son-2 to various appointments, tackle to-do lists, juggle the finances.

And carry the laundry. Always laundry.

We miss each other when a schedule shift happens or my calendar is full. I think he liked having me around at Christmas and New Years. I worried that me working late four days in a row right away as the new year begins will annoy him.

Before ALS we could divide and tackle more of the house work. Once upon a time we did not need to think about what he physically can or can not do, or where he can physically handle going without help.

My hours are jagged with early and late variance. I never have had a clock in, clock out type job. I imagine it’s not easy for someone to live with me and guess what my week will be like.

His jobs in the past all had clear start/stop times.

So I brace for possible grumpiness.

I stress that we might struggle to transition back into a busy season.

In an attempt to head off an argument or avoid sassy words, I bring up my hope that we can deal well with me being on the move again.

He responds with, “I’m good. I know you have too much on your plate–and too many plates to manage. Grace extended.”

Grace extended?

GRACE. EXTENDED.

Those are some hot husband words right there.

One time I heard a pastor talk about when life gets hard you can either get bitter or get better.

Hubby could complain all day given his physical pain, but he does not.

In fact, he has only grown kinder since diagnosis.

Considering your partner’s perspective is one of the most attractive things someone can do.

I am grateful.

Love,

Glenna

Romans 12:10 Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves.

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Room To Receive

Friends are the true wealth.

One day I will write about the ways dear ones have bridged gaps for us in the last few months. I am grateful beyond measure. The road is still long ahead, but little by little we will emerge to a new, more manageable life–I pray.

Anyone who knows my heart knows that I prefer giving and sharing. In fact, I have to self-talk that it is ok to receive. It is ok to accept help. It is ok to allow people into our mess.

When I shared the latest stalled house sale update with my mastermind group, the ladies jumped in with their talents to do what they can. I am sure the words “stuck” and “tired” glow on my forehead.

One of the masterminds, Jill, is an interior designer. She offered to come New Years day to transform the blank front room of our house. “Staging” a home is important. She brought an SUV full of items and went to work.

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What once was empty and lacked imagination now has a welcoming vibe with pops of color.

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I suspect when people walk in they will smile. Jill is a genius. Here is a link to some of her great home decorating advice. I will add more links to her blogs and website later.

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This is a short post because I must get back to getting the house ready for a new realtor. I will sort and pack as much as I can today.

This hymn’s song lyrics play through my head often:

“He said ‘Freely, freely you have received; freely, freely give.
Go in my name, and because you believe others will know that I live.”

I visualize a life where my capacity grows and I can be more supportive to others again.

Love,

Glenna