From the aggressive all-day bike ride on Thursday to the
grueling 10-mile climb to Mt LeConte yesterday, lactic acid has built up and our
thigh muscles are complaining most loudly; stairs and declines are painful, and
we look like a couple of stiff old stooges who can barely amble along. Consequently, today’s plan to hike yet again
was replaced instead with a drive along one of the many motorways through the
park. Starting at The Sugarlands
Visitors Center with its short nature trail to a delightful waterfall and yet
another reconstructed log cabin, we drove along the scenic river through a
gorge to the Newfound Gap over which the Appalachian Trail passes. Sadly, Aaron is no longer interested in my
plan to spend 5-6 months hiking the AT.
Some part of me is sorta glad he’s telling me “no.” At an
overlook, we encountered a bachelorette group who seemed completely wrapped up
in themselves and the pictures they were taking, oblivious to the throngs
around them. As they swarmed us for
their next photo op, I dodged quickly out of their way and Aaron followed. When he stepped off a curb, however, the rock
under him slipped causing him to take a rather nasty hard fall onto the rock
pathway. The brunt of the fall caught on
his knee, his hand, but mostly his right temple. There was a sickening thwack as his head met the stone; that dreadful thud we know and hate to hear. Head wounds bleed and
frighten me, having lost two friends from slow bleeding head wounds. I sat him up and assessed the bleeding and bruising
as well as his mentition and kept a close eye on him for the rest of the
day. He survived the accident well
enough, but it took the punch out of him, and he felt “beat up” for the rest of
the day. Poor man; it breaks my heart to
see him injured or hurting. We took it
easy from there on out, and I finally allowed him an hour long nap when I was
confident he would awaken.
Good deeds, of which there are a few today: 1- While researching the Appalachian Trail
some years ago, I read of “Trail Angels,” those beautiful souls who live to
assist the through-hikers on the AT.
They provide transportation to town for hikers who need groceries,
medical care, an ATM, a warm shower, whatever.
They live near the 2190-mile trail which stretches from Georgia to
Maine, and assist with whatever needs arise for passing hikers. When Aaron took his nasty tumble today, a
Trail Angel appeared out of nowhere to offer aid: he had witnessed (and heard) the
fall and quickly came to help bearing bandaids, gauze, alcohol wipes, a trip to
town, anything at all we needed. He was
quite anxious to be of assistance to us, and I took him up on his offer of
alcohol wipes as I mopped Aaron up. He
looked and spoke like some kind of inbred hillbilly with long dirty hair, an
unkempt beard, reeking of smoke and dirt and grime, but he taught me that
angels come in various forms and shapes.
He was so sweet, so thoughtful, so willing to help I couldn’t help but feel
drawn to him and was grateful for his aid and compassion. He stayed with us til I was confident Aaron
was not mortally wounded and could stand, assisting Aaron up and on his
way. I recognized that I will never find
a deed good enough to surpass his selfless gift to us. 2- Upon returning to Bambi this evening, I
found a neighboring Airstreamer had left a cute gift on my step. She had painted a pink flamingo on a small rock
from Lake Michigan and left it anonymously for me along with a note to enjoy my
Airstream Adventure. What a thoughtful
woman this must be. I am completely
outdone in my quest to do good for others.
3- After mopping up Aaron and taking him to town for a McFlurry to
soothe his injured soul, I gave $5 to a guy collecting donations for his
Baptist church by singing gospel songs from the bed of his truck in the Food
Lion parking lot. His handwritten
sign: “IF YOUR (sic) IN NEED OF PRAYER, TELL
ME AND I WILL STOP PLAYING AND PRAY WITH YOU.”
Only in the south; can’t imagine ever witnessing this scene in Portland, can you?
Three amazing things:
1- These two months have been fraught with near-misses, accidents
averted, and injuries only minor in scope.
We feel confident the Lord has been tremendously generous in protecting
us. Today’s fall could have been
disastrous for my sweet Aaron. I am all
gratitude. 2- We have learned a great
deal about the hardy souls who lived independently in these mountains for
generations, industriously growing orchards, gardens and fields, hunting,
gathering, and eking an existence out of the land with little if any outside
influence or trading. They built grist
mills, corn cribs, springhouses, blacksmith shops, barns, beegums, chicken
coops, apple houses, tiny log cabins with long porches for large families, and of course
churches. We saw an old photo of three
sisters who provided for themselves by growing cotton for trade. Determined, resourceful, courageous mountain
folk they were. 3- I have read of Trail
Angels but have never had the great privilege of having been ministered to by
one. That these selfless individuals
actually exist simply to bless the lives of strangers in need intrigues me, and
it was an honor to be blessed by one today.
God bless Trail Angels everywhere; I’m sure there’s a special place in
heaven for them.
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