Date: 2005-04-05
From: Scttish Inn Motel - Fayetteville

To: Scottish Inn Motel - Fayetteville
Miles today: 0.0

¢Here¢ said the middle aged biker, shoving his right knee towards me ¢Feel that¢ I gingerly placed my hand on the denim jeans over the joint. Feeling the outline of a sturdy knee brace under the blue cloth. I looked at him inquiringly. He grinned and said, ¢Now feel this¢ and started to move his knee. I could clearly feel the grinding crepitus of the underlying diseased joint. ¢A surgeon ruined my knee,¢ he said cheerfully ¢and now you tell me you are a surgeon. Small world isn¢t it Doc?¢   The day had started out well. After a long talk with KT last night, I slept late this morning. After breakfast and a trip to the PO, I was at the coin operated Laundromat when I met the biker. Steve is a 57 yo former real estate broker, twice married, twice divorced, with two trailer homes ¢ one here and one in Florida, where his aging parents also live, and a $52,000 Harley Davidson! A tall rangy man with blue jeans and the required black Harley Davidson T shirt and dark glasses pushed up into his crisp graying hair, our conversation had started over a few simple enquires about the AT.      His surgical misfortunes were the result of a femoral nerve that an Orthopedic surgeon inadvertently cut, during what sounded like a pretty simple and straightforward procedure, leaving him with an atrophied quadriceps, an irreparable knee joint, $900,000 in malpractice awards and a cheerful outlook on life. He turned out to be an extremely well read and informed person, who had rejected much of the material aspect of life ¢ with the glaring exception of his prized HD hog.      We had a wide ranging discussion on a variety of topics, the withdrawal of the feeding tube and the subsequent death of Terri Shiavo, the politics of the election of the new pope, and the necessity of the resurrection of the body if the soul is already in heaven, during the hour or so that it took us to wash, dry, and fold, our meager handful of possessions. He plans on having his cremated remains placed into the handlebars of his bike ¢ on the throttle side of course ¢ pointing out to me that the handgrips are heated and that he will be warm and safe as he continues his journey with his bikes new owners.   I cant help but feel that a scant three years ago, I would have been loath to exchange a ¢Good Day¢ with a biker in a Laundromat, let alone encourage a long and philosophical discussion on such a wide variety of topics, not all of which we agreed on! Heck! Three tears ago I would not have been inside a coin operated Laundromat to begin with! I am amazed at how much I have changed as a person since I first started on this journey.   I suspect that all who hike the trail undergo similar transformations to some extent or another. Mine may be particularly noticeable to me, because of the amount of time that this trip is taking. It is as if the experiences are marinating in the juice of time.   We left the best of friends, expressing best wishes to each other on our continuing journeys through life, and a deeper understanding, at least on my part, that you cannot tell a person from the T-shirt that they are wearing. I suspect that the picture of a trail worn hiker dressed in his rain gear while he launders all of his possessions, might well invoke similar, if not more intense, feelings in the hearts of many, as that of a black T shirted, leather coated biker once invoked in mine.      So it was a beautiful day. Less cold and sunny. Have planned on 5 nights and 6 days to Duncannon with stops at Ironmaster Hostel and Rout 11 for phone access since I cannot seem to get the phone to ¢phone¢ even though it has power and signal strength and even 611 service. Sent the flooded camera home and got a point and shoot disposable as a replacement.Thought for today ¢         It is amazing what a variety of experiences you can have, if only you are open to the opportunities around you.