View from our campsite, morning of May 22nd
“Trail Magic” can be described as anything good and unexpected that occurs to you along the Appalachian Trail hike. It can be something small like someone giving you a few inches of duct tape to repair your rainsuit, or giving you a bandana when you lost yours the day before. Once in a while, folks along the trail perform some outstanding trail magic; something that requires a bit more effort, special generosity on their part, or an extra-special kindness that can make a your life better in some way. Those who perform trail magic are called “trail angels”. On Sunday, May 22nd, there seemed to be angels all about!
Sunset, Satuday May 21st
First of all, it was a morning that seemed like so many. Melissa and I had found a nice place to camp; near a rock ledge with a beautiful view to the west (so we enjoyed a beautiful sunset Saturday night). We began our day with a quick bowl of oatmeal and cup of instant coffee and would start our hike around the normal time, about 7:30 or 8 AM. Our destination for the day was Waynesboro, VA (a MOST hiker-friendly town), specifically the Waynesboro YMCA, where there is a stretch of lawn along the river set aside for hiker camping. Our guidebooks noted that the Y facilities were open for hiker use (donations appreciated), and that one should first check in at the desk (open until 5 PM). Now, I wasn’t really interested in any sort of exercise or workout (somehow, a few miles on a treadmill didn’t appeal to me), but it had been several days since I had a shower, so 5 PM instantly became a deadline for reaching Waynesboro. Melissa said she could wait until the next day, and if it was that important to me, I should go ahead at a fast pace; she’d see me later at the Y. I packed up and left camp without her.
Leaving a tad before 8 AM, allowing for a couple of breaks and a short lunch stop, and travelling at about 2 m.p.h., I should have no problem getting there on time. There had been no water source where we camped, so I expected another short delay at a road crossing where there was a stream about 1 1/2 miles into the day. When I reached the crossing, there were a couple of vehicles parked there, and a few people sitting in lawn chairs. One asked, “Are you thirsty?” to which I replied, “I sure am; I’m planning to filter some water out of that stream.” “How about a Coke?” he asked, “or we have Powerade, or beer.” “I’ll have a Coke, soon as I’m done filling my water, thanks!” Hmmmmmmmmmm. not picnickers, I thought, but trail angels!
As I pumped water into my hydration bladder, I heard, “How about some pancakes and sausage? We’re cooking for thru-hikers.”
The immediate thought that popped in my head was that if they knew anything about thru-hikers, they didn’t have to ask about wanting free food, but I politely said, “Sure thing!”
“Oh, and we have some cookies, chips, fresh fruit and candy bars if you’d like some. Help yourself, put a few extras in your pack, and PLEASE take a load off your feet. We brought lawn chairs. Should I put syrup on your pancakes?” Well, obviously they DID know a bit about thru-hikers. Calories you don’t have to carry and a chair with a back to lean against were magical. I sat down and enjoyed the great food, good conversation, and the relaxation. They told me I was the first to show up that morning, and asked if I knew of other hikers who may come along behind me. I told them Melissa would be along in a few minutes, and there were two hikers (another Mike and “Art Gypsy”) who might be along soon after.
Our "angelic" breakfast hosts!
Our angelic breakfast hosts were “King” (who thru-hiked in 2009), Sarah, and another man whose name I didn’t get (sorry!). They explained that they had been doing this once weekly for a few weeks, and would continue for a few weeks more. It was extremely generous, and I could have spent the day there, but shortly after Melissa showed up, I thought of 5 PM shower deadline, and forced myself to leave the comfort. Gosh! I had been there for a full hour! Now, I’d really have to hurry a bit.
Off I went, thinking that since the terrain was fairly easy, I should still be able to make it. I made a very quick stop at a shelter to sit down for a 20-minute lunch (rather than the normal hour or so). I whipped out of there, figuring that I’d have to do about 3 m.p.h. to make it to the road in order to hitch a ride into Waynesboro and get to the Y by five. The faster I hiked, the more I realized that the worn down tips of my hiking poles weren’t helping my speed any, slipping on the ground rather than sticking, and being completely worthless on rocks. There is an outfitter store in Waynesboro that also closes at 5 PM on Sundays, and I decided that replacing the steel tips on my poles and refilling our fuel bottle were of higher priority than a shower. If I got the outfitter trip done that day, it would help us get out of town earlier the next day.
Still, with a 5 PM deadline, I was hell-bent to get to the road, and with about 100 yards to go to the trailhead, I excused myself and tore quickly past a couple of day hikers with a small dog. Up the hill to the parking lot I charged, then hurried across the road to jot a note and tape it to a sign where I thought Melissa would see it. “Got here at 4:07; going to the outfitters first, I’ll see you at the Y,” I wrote. I fumbled for the duct tape (a hiker necessity), taped it to the sign, and stuck out my thumb.
By this time, the day hikers I had passed were pulling out of the lot toward Waynesboro. They were only about the second or third car by, so when they stopped I realized that luck (or trail magic) was with me – I would get to the outfitter on time as it was on the way into town.
“You looked like you were in a hurry. Are you heading into town?” the driver asked.
“Yes, and I’ve worn out my hiking poles and am trying to get to the outfitter before they close at five.”
“That won’t be a problem,” he said, and “So – did you start in Georgia? Are you from there?”
“Yes, I started in Georgia, but I’m from Rochester, NY.” At this reply, he looked at her, she looked at him, they both looked at me, and he said, “That’s OUR old stomping ground! We moved here after I retired from teaching at Greece Athena High School.”
Very small world, I thought, and told them “I taught at Athena for a half a year, and I was a student there the first four years the school was open!”
“I was a Math teacher; I’m Mr. Romesburg.”
“Yes, now I recognize you! It’s Bill, right?”
Bill and Sandy Romesburg, Waynesboro (via Greece, NY) trail angels
Bill and his wife Sandy didn’t know me as a teacher, as I had taught there for only six months, and it took a while, but we recalled that Bill had not been my math teacher at all, but was my freshman year homeroom teacher. That was 1969-70 school year. He’s barely changed a bit!
They took me to the outfitter, waited while I got my tips replaced, and fuel bottle filled, then dropped me right at the Y. Magical! At the desk, the Y guy told me that they were on summer hours, and open until 6:45. Likely Melissa would make that shower cutoff, too!
I learned later that she didn’t even have to stick out her thumb! A lady named Marguerite picked her up, drove her to the Y, and insisted on walking her right inside, to make sure she was safe. They were at the desk, signing Melissa in when I came along fresh and clean from the locker room.
Fellow-hikers Triton, Red Squirrel, Food Bag, Irish and Valcor at the Waynesboro Y camping area
It had been an incredible day, and a nice group of hikers greeted us at the camping area, offering us MORE food that someone from town had dropped off – pasta, Italian bread and brownies!
Angels exist for sure; we’re finding lots of them along the way!
