Becoming Odyssa - Jennifer Pharr Davis [71]
“Don’t worry about it.” I laughed. “Why are you guys headed south? I am still hiking north, right?”
“Yeah, you’re good,” said Mooch. “Nightwalker’s mom is here and she’s slackpacking us through the Shennandoahs. It was easier to start near the lodge and have her pick us up at the park entrance, so we’re hiking south today.”
“We have extra snacks. You want some?” asked Nightwalker.
I nodded enthusiastically. Mooch gave me cookies and Nightwalker handed me fruit snacks. If I hadn’t already forgiven them for the wet sleeping bag, this would have done it.
“Hey, we need to keep hiking, but my mom’s doing trail magic all week, so when you come to a road crossing tomorrow, keep an eye out for a pretty, dark-haired lady with snacks and drinks.”
“I will definitely keep an eye out for your mom. But don’t let me keep you from getting to your showers and warm, soft beds. After all, I still have a few miles to the dirty, hard floorboards waiting for me at the next shelter.”
The boys laughed.
“You know, Odyssa, the thought of you out there in the cold on the uncomfortable floor of the shelter is just going to make my bed feel that much better,” replied Mooch.
I brandished my mop stick at him like a martial arts weapon.
“Okay, okay,” said Nightwalker, as the two laughed and stumbled farther away from me. “We’ll look for you tomorrow, Odyssa.”
“Yeah, and maybe I’ll bring you some of the leftovers from my delicious continental breakfast,” shouted Mooch as they disappeared around the turn.
The Appalachian Trail has more road crossings per mile within Shenandoah National Park than in any other section of trail. And the weird thing is that it’s always the same road. The Blue Ridge Parkway becomes Skyline Drive at the park’s southern boundary. Skyline Drive touches the AT forty-five times in Shenandoah National Park.
It was late afternoon, and I had already crossed the road nine times since leaving the shelter that morning. At each stretch of pavement, I carefully surveyed the area, hoping to spot Nightwalker’s mom. But it wasn’t until my final road crossing of the day that I discovered her trail magic. There was a cooler filled with sodas, and beside it was a cardboard box overflowing with cookies, crackers, and fruit snacks.
I had already helped myself to a drink and was busy selecting my snacks when an attractive lady with short, black hair shut her car door and began walking toward me.
“You must be Odyssa. The boys told me about you,” she said.
“You must be Trail Magic Momma,” I replied. I didn’t know her name, or her son’s real name, and “Trail Magic Momma” just kind of came out.
“Ha! I love it,” she said. “Maybe that can be my trail name—Magic Momma. I’m glad you’re here,” she continued. “I’ve been parked here all day, and you’re the first thru-hiker I’ve seen. You haven’t seen the boys, have you?”
“Nuh-uh,” I said, with graham cracker crumbs falling out of my mouth. “Where are they?”
“They should be here soon, I hope.”
I finished my snack and grabbed a second helping from the cardboard box. I sat in the grass, laughing and talking with Magic Momma in between mouthfuls. She and I quickly discovered that we both loved books, tennis, and red wine. She told me about her work, her husband, and how much she loved being here with her only child. (Well, that is, if you don’t count the black lab that she’d left at home.)
I believe that there are only a handful of people in life that a person will meet and immediately feel deeply connected with. I had imagined this immediate bond was usually reserved for a best friend or the love of your life, but I found myself experiencing it with a fifty-year-old woman.
After a long visit that seemed to have lasted only a few minutes, Magic Momma concluded the conversation with an offer. “We’re staying at the lodge that’s just a mile up the trail. You can eat dinner with us there if you like.”
“I’d love it!”
Magic Momma gave me the key to their rooms and told me that I could have a shower and take a nap on one of the beds until the boys arrived.
Hiking toward