Date: 2004-05-29
From: Swift Run Gap

To: Bearfence Mountain Hut
Miles today: 9.0
Weather: clear sky

The trails today are nice. Not flat, but not steep. And very well-maintained.   Shenandoah National Park isn¢t so bad after all.   I eventually catch up to the two section hikers from Falls Church. They move to the side to let me pass and I say ¢no thanks.¢ If it¢s okay with them, I¢d rather hike with them for a while.    I did some thinking and realize that I¢ve been far too focused on getting back together with the people I¢ve already met and shared good times with that I haven¢t bothered getting to know the people that are here, NOW.   The Falls Church boys seem cool, as do Q-Tip, Prozac, and the Pokey Puppies. Perhaps I¢ll take Shenandoah slowly, enjoying the company I¢m with. Besides, MC, Willow & Sweet Cheeks are still around somewhere, and JT & Shaun will be here tonight. If familiar faces are what I need to feel better, I¢ll have healthy does of that as well.   And I¢m really looking forward to seeing my friends JT & Shaun today.    The plan is for me to call Shaun¢s cell phone once I arrive at Lewis Mountain Campground. I figured by the time I finished my errands in the morning with Winton, Joy¢s father, get dropped off at Swift Run Gap and hiked the 8.5 miles to the payphone, they should be close and I will be able to tell them exactly where to meet me. We will hike another half-mile to the shelter tonight and then do some more hiking tomorrow. I¢ve even made arraignments for them to be picked up further north on the trail and shuttled back to their car, courtesy of Joy.   I arrive at the payphone outside the store at Lewis Mountain Campground around 4:30 PM and, after buying an ice cream from inside, of course, I make my phone call to Shaun¢s cell phone.    JT picks up. I¢ll later assume Shaun just didn¢t have the heart to tell me.   Hey man, where you guys at?   ¢We¢re still in Delaware.¢    My heart sinks a little.    They¢re not coming.   A friend of Shaun¢s family had died unexpectedly, JT told me. Shaun wasn¢t really close with him, but he wants to be there for his family.   I understand. I understand completely.   ¢Where will you be next weekend?¢   Taking out my data book and doing the calculations, I estimate I¢m about a week away from Harper¢s Ferry.   ¢THAT¢S where we¢ll meet you,¢ JT tells me. His parents know exactly where the KOA campground in Harper¢s Ferry is, having stayed there many times, and have agreed to drive there next weekend. It will less of a drive, they won¢t have to compete with Memorial Day weekend traffic, and not only will I get to see JT and Shaun, but JT¢s family¢my second family¢as well.   Even if there hadn¢t been an unfortunate death, I would have suggested this scenario.   Prozac rented a campsite and, though there wasn¢t enough room for me to stay the night, I was welcome to have dinner and hang out by the fire. The shelter was a little over half a mile away and I was concerned that it might fill up tonight being the Saturday of Memorial Day weekend, the park¢s busiest weekend of the summer. I wanted to be sure I claimed a space in the shelter, but I didn¢t want to miss out on the social atmosphere at the campsite. So, for what was probably the first time since taking the side trail to see that stupid poplar tree in Georgia, I hike an unnecessary mile and drop off my sleeping pad to reserve a spot at the shelter in the middle of my roundtrip.   Franks and beans for dinner, courtesy of Pokey Puppies. Someone else bought chili. I pitch in for beer.    Around the picnic table playing cards are me, Prozac, Q-Tip, and Dave of the Falls Church boys. Dave is now called Heavy Tent, or HT, due to the nine-pound tent he¢s carrying. His friend is also toting a nine-pounder, but has earned a different trail name¢Eileen¢describing the position his body has naturally taken after weeks of hiking while carrying a jug of water in one hand.   The night had become cold, especially noticeable now that I¢ve torn myself away from the warmth of the camp with its fire and good company. I hike back to the shelter in the dark, my headlamp, with its new batteries, brightly illuminating the trail ahead of me.