Between Harpers Ferry and Georgia

by John G. Cowan

The wheels of my small car spun hopelessly. I was stuck, stranded on the snow-covered roadside. I had tried repeatedly to rock the car free, but each attempt ended short of the previous and it had become obvious I was going nowhere ...soon.

I'd decided on a whim that Sunday afternoon to head to the mountains for a few hours. Even though the day was cold and a few flurries were falling, I figured the roads would still be clear.

Enroute to Harpers Ferry, W. VA., I drove through the Virginia countryside, stopping only for egg rolls and a large cup of coffee. The snow was coming down more steadily and Harpers Ferry seemed abandoned, as I toured the Park Visitor Center. Then it was up the hill to visit the Appalachian Trail Conference Headquarters and back out of town toward Maryland.

The return trip took me over the mountain ridge to intersect the Appalachian Trail at Gathland State Park. The snow was now heavier, but the road was still passable as I came to the crest and pulled over next to the A.T. sign.

I opened the window and sat for a while, feeling the snowflakes drifting onto my lap. The quiet beauty of the surrounding forest lured me from the car and down the trail.

In a short distance, the wind and driving snow stopped me and I retraced my barely visible steps back to the car. Quietly, I contemplated the beauty of it all, and lamented having no one to share it with. I'd often fantasized about having a companion to share the excitement of my hiking trips.

The cold brought me back to reality and I decided it was time to get off the mountain and back to Washington. I didn't get far. The car slid into a snow bank. Again reality visited, and I knew I wouldn't be back in Washington for a while.

I was thankful for the nearly full tank of gas, and to conserve fuel, I decided to only start the engine occasionally, to keep warm. As the hours passed, the repeatedly rewarmed car provided what little coaxing I needed ...each time the engine stopped, I fell asleep.

Suddenly, I was in North Georgia. The trail was very cold and deep with snow as I trudged along, laboring to reach the summit of Blood Mountain and the wonderful rock shelter there.

As the shelter came into view, I was happy to see smoke coming from the stone chimney. Inside was a roaring fire. I unrolled my sleeping bag, stretched out and warmed my feet contentedly. For a long time, I stared into the fire and sipped my drink.

"Hello," came a pleasant voice from the door.

Looking up in surprise, I found myself gazing right into the eyes of "Ms Carolina Charm".

"Sure hope I didn't startle you. May I come in by the fire?"

"Yes, please do! Would you like to sit?" I asked, moving to one end of the sleeping bag to make room.

"Yes, thank you," she said in the most delicate southern accent.

As the wind whispered and the snow slowly drifted outside, we sat and watched the fire.

"Will you tell me a bit about yourself?" I asked.

"I'd rather talk about you first," she said. "Just ...maybe ...I already know some things about you."

"How can you know anything about me? I don't remember meeting you."

"No, we've never met. But some things I know by other means. I'm aware of your love of the mountains and of hiking and of your desire to share that love with another. Now, you're thinking that nobody will ever join you in those desires. You feel it's too late. It is not too late." "Never give up."

She said nothing further and as we sat enjoying the fire, I occasionally stole a glance at her and wondered ... who was this person beside me?

"I have to go now," she said, abruptly standing and looking directly at me. "Take care, and remember, you never know what's around the curve on a trail."

I stared into the fire for a moment, contemplating what she had said and then turned to speak, but she wasn't there.

The rumble started suddenly and rapidly grew louder, intruding into a very pleasant dream. Shaking the fog of sleep from my head, I saw the snow plow, opened the door, and waved to the driver.

"Looks like you've been here all night!"

"Yes, since dusk yesterday."

The driver threw down a tow line, attached it to the front of my stranded car, and tugged it quickly back onto the road.

"I can never thank you enough."

"I'm glad I could help. Have a nice day." The plow rumbled on down the mountain. I followed, headed for Washington and happy to be on my way. It was Monday now, and I was running very late for a noon business flight to Atlanta.

Hurrying to the hotel, I packed and rushed to National Airport. I checked my bags, ran upstairs and waited for the boarding call. Luckily, the plane was also late. I tried in vain to trade my center seat for an aisle seat, then settled for a window seat.

I made my way to row 38, only to find my window seat occupied.

"Excuse me, are you assigned this seat?" I asked.

"No, but could you take the aisle seat so I can talk with my friend?"

"Oh, yes!" I replied, happy to make the exchange. "Thank you very much!"

As I stuffed my coat into the overhead bin, someone behind me remarked how thankful I should be that the two ladies had given me the aisle seat. When I turned toward the owner of the voice, my heart almost stopped. Standing by seat 38D, just three feet away, sipping spring water from a bottle, dressed in a blue business suit, a scarf, hose ...and hiking shoes, was "Ms. Carolina Charm" the lady from my dream the night before.

Taking a deep breath, I said, "Haven't I seen you before?"

"Maybe!"

She didn't seem to enjoy the rough take-off, but once the plane settled to a smoother ride and took it's southerly heading, she smiled and pointed out the window. "It's right down there!" I knew exactly what she meant.

"I guess I never got your name," I said.

"Scarlett."

The flight to Atlanta that had always been long and boring, was full of excitement and entirely too short!

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