I'm too busy to be writing. And I hope to be able to post some photos, but I don't want this journal to own me. I don't think it's going to be a daily blog as it's started out to be.
But today was great fun. Janet, Yonder and I went up to Garenflo Gap just south of Hot Springs and fed 8 hikers pizza cooked in the back of the truck, hot dogs and bratworst, fruit, candy, chips, and soda. We couldn't believe that 2 of the hikers had bear stories! One of them was approached by a bear as he was cooking his dinner. He grabbed his food and ran down the trail to another hiker's site where he hung his food with the other guy's. When he went up later, the bear was gone. The other guy saw a mama and cub come right through his site. He was in his tent and could hear her claw at the tree. She got his food bag down, broke it open and tore through all his food. When he finally got nerve to go out and see what was left, there was nothing left of his food bag, but the Mountain House meals were left behind - not a favorite he guessed!
I can't tell you how much I wanted to just walk off with those guys heading north. And to be able to get just a whiff of hiker funk was a real treat. It's surprising what things you miss.
Off to Atlanta tomorrow to spend the night with E. Z. Duzit, then he's riding with me down to Florida on Monday.
I'm happy to be wandering again. Photos will have to wait until after the canoe trip.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
The Drama Continues April 3
Well, as if I didn’t have enough suspense yesterday, today I had the usual problem of remembering to get gas. Even after I thought about it, I just as quickly forget that I needed to get it. And I found myself driving through the mountains of North Carolina with the fuel light on (who knows how long) and the needle below empty. Dang it! I’m going to have another catastrophe today. I’m going to run out of gas miles from nowhere. Just keep driving. Keep driving. There’s got to be gas soon. Miles after mile of rolling mountains and no signs of civilization. How long can I go? What will I do if I run out? Is that a sign? Yes. Can I get there? Sputter, sputter as I exit the highway. Keep running. Fumes. I made it on funes. That seems to be a theme for me. I did it 5 times on my trip to Minnesota last fall. The 5th time I ran out. Had to bike to a gas station, buy a gas can and gas, and bike back to my car. Didn’t really want to do that in the mountains.
I had a technology breakdown. I got this gadget that plugs in to the lighter and provides a household outlet for charging all my "things", but when I went to use it....nada, nothing, no power! Found out here at Janet and Yonder's that my lighter doesn't work and it's not a blown fuse. But, aha, this gadget also clips to the battery and charges stuff, but I have to be stopped and sit around while it does its thing. That's not as efficient as I was hoping, but it does keep me powered....and that option does work.
The drive today through the rain was quite beautiful. I saw my first blossoms in WV. The woods and mountains were tugging at my heart. I do love them so. So many trail memories came flooding back. And as I looked at those mountains that I hiked through, even I couldn't believe that I had hiked 2175 miles two years ago. It just seems so formidable.
I had a technology breakdown. I got this gadget that plugs in to the lighter and provides a household outlet for charging all my "things", but when I went to use it....nada, nothing, no power! Found out here at Janet and Yonder's that my lighter doesn't work and it's not a blown fuse. But, aha, this gadget also clips to the battery and charges stuff, but I have to be stopped and sit around while it does its thing. That's not as efficient as I was hoping, but it does keep me powered....and that option does work.
The drive today through the rain was quite beautiful. I saw my first blossoms in WV. The woods and mountains were tugging at my heart. I do love them so. So many trail memories came flooding back. And as I looked at those mountains that I hiked through, even I couldn't believe that I had hiked 2175 miles two years ago. It just seems so formidable.
An Auspicious Beginning April 2
Got the car packed, the house cleaned, and the food from the fridge delivered, and the return trip to the house to fetch a forgotten item completed, I was now on the road. It was a good drive east towards Erie, Pa, then south toward Pittsburgh and beyond. I had great new music and audiobooks on my iPod. I was all set. And it felt so good to be traveling again. New adventures! I’m most myself when I’m traveling, on the road to somewhere new.
The canoe strapped to the top of the car is rumbling and humming. The bike on a rack on the back is rocking to and fro. The interior of the car is filled to the brim. I think I have enough stuff to be gone 6 months to a year, not just 6 weeks. Well, maybe....
It got dark, and now I couldn’t see the canoe but I could hear it being noisier than usual. I was so scared that my overpriced new toy was going to go flying off the car. Were the straps tight enough? Did it matter if it started to twist off center? What’s it doing now? I can’t see it. So stop. Leave your lights on, it’s dark out here. Grab your headlamp to see the straps. Push the button to unlock all the doors. Close the driver’s door. Open the back door to step up and check the straps. Locked? Locked! Driver’s door: locked, too! Shit! What have I gotten myself into? I’m standing here in the dark, on the side of Interstate 79S, in only a t-shirt and pants with a headlamp. Everything else is locked in my car. I’m screwed...royally! What do I do now? Only thing I can do, try and get someone to stop and help me. Start waving my arms while standing near rear of car. 1...2...3...4...5...6...7... cars pass. They even move over to outside lane so as to not hit me, I guess. Move to the front of the car so the headlights might make me more visable. Keep waving. 8...9...10...11...12...13... and 19...20...21 Where’s a cop when you need one? What’s behind me? Oh, wonderful! Someone stopped! I’ll be all right now. Gregory, a plumber from West Virginia. Thank you, Trail Angel. Call 911 on his cell. Oh, the police can’t help me. Do you have AAA? (and I thought several times about getting it before I left mostly for the maps....sure could use it now!) No. So how are you going to help me get off the side of your highway? I can’t stay here. Call a tow truck. Where are you? I don’t know. Gregory and I try to remember what signs we might have seen recently. I think we’re 20 miles north of Morgantown WV. Greg thinks he saw a sign for Kirby. It will be 30 minutes. Greg says he’ll wait with me til they arrive. I”m sure glad because his truck is warmer than outside.. He just built a house. I hiked the Appalachian Trail. He loves his grandkids. I don’t have grandkids. And on, and on. Where is that tow truck? We call. They can’t find us. We tell them what we know. They’ll keep driving further up the highway. Finally! And $50 bucks later I’m back on the road.
Just like on the Appalachian Trail (AT), there are good people who help you when you need them. Trail Magic. It’s still happening. The world is a good place. Please believe it.
So on I drove another hour to a rest area to spend the night. It was getting quite late by now. A special friend kept me company on my cell phone while I got to where I was to spend the night and settled in. I felt safe, connected, appreciated, and free.
The lights were sure bright, but post it notes properly placed on the windows blocked the direct lights. Comfy mattress, my own bed pillow, and a sleeping bag. Zzzzzzz. Nightie night.
Oh yeah, as suggested by someone dear to me, I’m now wearing my extra key around my neck. Not going to have that problem again...I’ll have a different one, I’m sure.
The canoe strapped to the top of the car is rumbling and humming. The bike on a rack on the back is rocking to and fro. The interior of the car is filled to the brim. I think I have enough stuff to be gone 6 months to a year, not just 6 weeks. Well, maybe....
It got dark, and now I couldn’t see the canoe but I could hear it being noisier than usual. I was so scared that my overpriced new toy was going to go flying off the car. Were the straps tight enough? Did it matter if it started to twist off center? What’s it doing now? I can’t see it. So stop. Leave your lights on, it’s dark out here. Grab your headlamp to see the straps. Push the button to unlock all the doors. Close the driver’s door. Open the back door to step up and check the straps. Locked? Locked! Driver’s door: locked, too! Shit! What have I gotten myself into? I’m standing here in the dark, on the side of Interstate 79S, in only a t-shirt and pants with a headlamp. Everything else is locked in my car. I’m screwed...royally! What do I do now? Only thing I can do, try and get someone to stop and help me. Start waving my arms while standing near rear of car. 1...2...3...4...5...6...7... cars pass. They even move over to outside lane so as to not hit me, I guess. Move to the front of the car so the headlights might make me more visable. Keep waving. 8...9...10...11...12...13... and 19...20...21 Where’s a cop when you need one? What’s behind me? Oh, wonderful! Someone stopped! I’ll be all right now. Gregory, a plumber from West Virginia. Thank you, Trail Angel. Call 911 on his cell. Oh, the police can’t help me. Do you have AAA? (and I thought several times about getting it before I left mostly for the maps....sure could use it now!) No. So how are you going to help me get off the side of your highway? I can’t stay here. Call a tow truck. Where are you? I don’t know. Gregory and I try to remember what signs we might have seen recently. I think we’re 20 miles north of Morgantown WV. Greg thinks he saw a sign for Kirby. It will be 30 minutes. Greg says he’ll wait with me til they arrive. I”m sure glad because his truck is warmer than outside.. He just built a house. I hiked the Appalachian Trail. He loves his grandkids. I don’t have grandkids. And on, and on. Where is that tow truck? We call. They can’t find us. We tell them what we know. They’ll keep driving further up the highway. Finally! And $50 bucks later I’m back on the road.
Just like on the Appalachian Trail (AT), there are good people who help you when you need them. Trail Magic. It’s still happening. The world is a good place. Please believe it.
So on I drove another hour to a rest area to spend the night. It was getting quite late by now. A special friend kept me company on my cell phone while I got to where I was to spend the night and settled in. I felt safe, connected, appreciated, and free.
The lights were sure bright, but post it notes properly placed on the windows blocked the direct lights. Comfy mattress, my own bed pillow, and a sleeping bag. Zzzzzzz. Nightie night.
Oh yeah, as suggested by someone dear to me, I’m now wearing my extra key around my neck. Not going to have that problem again...I’ll have a different one, I’m sure.
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