See that barn? I’ve now come upon it twice. Yesterday, I came up through a beautiful pasture. First I saw the gate.

Looked familiar.

The earth was in bloom all around. Really beautiful.

My App, “Picture This” called these Moon Daisies. A whole field of Dandelions and Moon Daisies! It was stunning.

I walked up the gentle grade.

And Shazam. The AT Barn!

There are many AT logos along the trail. Only one on a barn like this. Everything became familiar. The gate. The pasture. THE BARN!

I did this already! Oops. Yay!

I was in that constant debate that happens to we hikers. Should I stop at the shelter, or keep on going. Keep on going to my car.

One’s car to a hiker is like the barn to the horse.

I couldn’t decide. Then…the AT Barn!!!!! Yes! I was here before. I didn’t have to hike to my car. I already did this 5 mile piece in front of me!!!! I was finished hiking! I hate re-hiking.

Now. How do I get to my car. There is no way I’m doing any of the AT twice. My legs only have one passage in them.

Pulled out my phone.

No signal. Shit. I sent a text, sometimes they get through, to Donna, my expensive shuttle driver. Remember me forgetting my phone, and getting shuttled 3 times instead of once?

Nothing.

Oh well. I knew how to get to my car by road. It might be shorter, just a thought. But. It might be longer!!!

Hitchhike. I haven’t hitchhiked since college. That was 1969. I stuck out my thumb. Took my hat off. Put on my best old and tired look standing right beside my backpack.

And guess what? First car stops!!! It’s great to be a “SLASHER.” (Senior Long Ass Section Hiker!)

It’s like they HAVE to pick us up.

Honda Prelude. Dean, a retired Prison Guard. We decided prisoners and high school students, their only difference was age. Dean takes me down off the mountain to Heaven.

BIKER HEAVEN.

Turns out my AT crossing up on the mountain is smack dab in the middle of “The Snake!” 20 miles of twisted, perfectly paved road the bikers come from all over to cruise.

I went inside, got myself a Pepsi, and sat down out front on the porch in an old rocker.

You know when you’re meant to be somewhere?

I man drove up, dressed in black from head to toe, in a White Miata. He sort of limped past me into the Country Store. Came out with I can’t remember what, sat down next to me, and we talked. “Nice car!” I said. “Hiking the Trail, I see.” he said.

And we got to his life.

My heart sank. His 27 year old daughter had recently died from Covid 19. He was in his 60s and really struggling. He pushed out that every time he begins to have any fun he starts crying. It should be his daughter having the fun. Not him. He was completely crippled with grief. Couldn’t concentrate. Couldn’t remember things. Desperately tried to feel better but if he did, the tears would come back. It was killing him. Literally.

I tried to just listen and say the right things. “Unnatural” came out of my mouth a couple of times. Parents should not go before their children.

He got out of his chair and hobbled in black, down the steps into his white Mazda.

Shortly thereafter, I look up and there are 2 old bikers standing in front of me. I actually love bikers. They are not at all what they seem. That is their precious secret. Bad Ass Good Guys.

“Are you through hiking?” The tall one said.

I wasn’t sure what he meant. Thru hiking or through hiking?

“I hiked the trail in 2014.” he said. He meant thru hiking.

They came around and sat in the two rockers, stage right. I asked him if he enjoyed the hike. He said, “I’m glad I did it.” I got it. “Great accomplishment, but too fucking hard.” he said. Understood.

He was now 74. He hiked it at 62. We agreed the 62 and 74 are completely different stages in life. His buddy said, “You have another stage coming, the 80s.” Holy shit. He was 81.

74 and 81 were out having fun riding “The Snake.” (Every one of my sentences is ending with a period. My body didn’t have an exclamation point in it. We use too many, anyway.)

We talked about keeping Joy in our lives. My new tall friend, 74, said, “You said you want a bike?” “I said that, but I don’t.” They laughed. We talked about horse power and keeping the joy in your life.

Maybe I do want a bike.

I told them that I was going to bicycle from Pittsburgh to Washington DC with my daughter in the Fall on a rail trail. 2%grade maximum. They actually sounded excited for me! It was really cool. None of that biker tough guy stuff. They knew joy when they saw it. Didn’t have to snuff it out with that old bicycle put down biker crap. They both lit up. How fun.

I sauntered out to the corner to start my hitchhike up the Mountain to my car. I whole parking lot full of nice guys who couldn’t take me if they wanted to! A 2 seater Miata and 40 motorcycles. Such irony.

Stuck my thumb out in my full senior array. First car stopped. A shirtless truck driver in a Volvo. We hummed up the curvy road to my car that he had noticed number of times in the last few days.

2 cars. 12 miles. I’m a hitchike master.

I opened my car, looked up, and down the hill comes “Socks.” He says, “How did you know I would be here?” Socks is one of those kinda lost geniuses.

I had no idea he would be anywhere. 🙂

He didn’t need anything but a rest at the picnic table. We exchanged pleasantries and I briefly told him what you just heard about. My AT Miracle.

Well. I’m tired of writing now and my eyes feel funny. Here’s the barn again.

Farther away.

Need coffee.

3/4s In.