Date: 2004-06-26
From: Pensacola, Fl

To: Washington, D.C.
Miles today: 0.0

Start Pensacoladestination Harper's Ferry West Virginiathe only thing good about waking up this early (5:00am) was listening to Tom Bodett's great voice on the motel's wake up call. We had gotten a motel room in town last night to keep from having to get up at 3:00 am to make an hour drive to the airport. I got to the airport an hour early and was promptly chewed out by one of Delta's great staff. I was already on the verge of tears, so I sucked it up and smiled sweetly at him and said¢ I sure am sorry, no one told me to be here two hours early.¢ To which he replied "It's always someone else's fault isn't it? It is never the customer's fault. You are already past the check in time; I ought not to let you board the plane at all. At that point Papermaker gently took my elbow and led me away. He knew I was close to having an emotional outburst, which is what it is called when you want to straighten out someone else's attitude. Because I had a one way ticket my pack was subjected to an extensive search at baggage check in. I had to smile as the clerk undid the drawstrings. At once, everything that had been squeezed and stuffed into too small of a space, came popping out. It was like watching those old fashion smoke snake fireworks. The ones that you light and watch them grow longer and longer. She was from Harper's Ferry, so she shared with us the best places to eat there, and asked about my hike. I nervously kept looking at my watch. She said it was okay, she would get me to the plane on time. Sure enough, just 4 minutes before take off, I gave my knight a long kiss, an even longer hug and off I went. The last boarding call had already been given. Down the aisle I went looking for my seat. Dressed in typical hiker attire I must have looked quite a sight. Last Wednesday I had gotten my hiker's haircut. I don't have enough hair for a tick to crawl through, much less grab onto. I was wearing my hiking shorts which look like they have never been washed, a shirt that look just as bad, socks, hiking boots and my AT bandana. Yep, I looked like your typical tourist! My seat mate was a slender man, who kept taking long deep breaths and loudly letting them out. He said nothing in response to my "good morning.¢ I looked out the window as we taxied away, wondering if Papermaker was watching the plane from inside. More than several times over the last few days he had asked me if I was sure I was ready for this hike! I am ready. Ready to get back to the trail. Ready to finish this adventure, although I am beginning to realize that this adventure will never be over with. I may finish the trail, but I will never finish the adventure of it. Daily I am reminded of some aspect of my hike from last year. My life has changed in so many ways. I never fail to notice my surroundings now, to take time to look around me and be thankful of what I have. I was not ready to leave my home, my pool, my gardens, or rather where my gardens usually are. I was not ready to say god by to my hubby, my children and especially my grandchildren. When your kids get grown, I guess you realize more fully the brevity of life, how fast children grow up. I enjoy every moment with the grandkids. I love to watch their wide eyed wonder over the simplest things. Enough of that, I will be in tears if I continue on that line of thinking.I stayed glued to the window, watching as the scenes below me grew tinier and tinier. The subdivisions with their paved cul de sacs spreading here and there like the arms of an octopus, their houses sitting along them like Goosebumps, crammed together and looking too much alike. Then we were above the clouds and all I could see was an ocean of white, billows formed as far as I could see, puffed like pillows of whipped cream. After what seemed like only a few miniutes, we were landing in Atlanta. I was catching a flight to Washington DC from there. With only an hour layover, there was not too much to do. I found a TCBY shop and decided to have a smoothie for breakfast. I said "Good Morning" to the young girl behind the counter."What?"She answered gruffly. I gave up the hospitality thing kick and placed my order. As I walked away sipping on it, I realized she had forgotten to put any yogurt in it. There was no way I was going back. I found the gate I would be leaving from, along with a payphone and called home. Jerry was surprised to hear from me so soon. Amazing, he had not yet gotten home and I was in Atlanta.I boarded the plane early and my seat mate this time was a young man who was full of questions for me after overhearing the flight attendant talking to me about hiking.The flight was delayed from takeoff due to some children flying unattended and not getting to the plane on time. Off we went, once again I watched the landscapes below grow invisible, swallowed up by clouds.Our late departure caused me to miss the connecting shuttle to Amtrak¢s Union station. A mere 25.00 got me the forty-five minute ride later.I got my ticket and asked the clerk where her favorite place to eat was. She told me the food court was downstairs. Great I thought. My least favorite place to eat back home is the food courts in the malls. As I descended the steps I was greeted by the most tantalizing smells. It took me three trips around the court before I could decide what to eat. This was no Wendy's, Arby's or Chinese Fast foods places to eat. There were exotic names like Aditi Indian Kitchen, Johnnie Rockets, LePetitBistro, Frank & Stein, Matsutake Teriyaki, Vittorio's Pasta Palace, GreatWraps, TheRice Bowl, and Departure Times Whoops!!That is the train schedule! I stood in front Kabuki Sushi and watched them making sushi. I thought back to last years hike with Mudbutt, and how long it took her to convince me to just try Sushi. And about how I embarrassed her when I asked for sugar for my hot tea in the Thai Restaurant. I truly felt like I had hiked around the world by the time I got home. I finally settled on a Toasted Veggie sandwich with spinach fettuccini. Even though the sandwich was not as hot as it could have been, it was delicious. I watched a homeless man refused offer after offer of leftover food, wanting money instead until finally being escorted out by a security officer. I watched one woman go from table to table looking at the plates of leftovers, until she found one to her liking. Picking it up, she walked to a nearby table and sat down. I bowed my head, not to ask God's blessing on my meal, but to thank him for all that I have. It pained me to have to leave part of the meal uneaten. I knew that in a week or two I would be able to eat twice this amount.