a surrender - 18

(Continuing "a surrender," chapter three, "into the wilderness") 

When I got to the road, I set up my tent and considered my situation. The weather was no better. It was three more miles to a small village, then maybe fifteen miles to Damascus after that. I needed to sleep. It was 2:30 pm. I decided to nap as long as I could, while I was still warm from walking. I managed to sleep about an hour and a half, then woke up shivering. Checked the weather: cold, windy, no break in the clouds. That settled it. I ate my supper and braced for a long walk. First get to the village, then decide what to do next; but I was getting off the trail right now. I quickly packed my things and started down the road. It was easy walking, downhill, and I immediately began to feel better. 

The village was small, farmy, and pretty. Little ponds ringed with cattails, and even a few Canadian geese. I came to a store about 6 pm. I talked to a local man, who was also mystified by the weather, and who claimed it had got down to 38 degrees at his place the night before. It wasn’t much warmer here, even though I had descended considerably. And there was no place to spend the night. So I took the final step. I grabbed a purse-sized bag with my journal and a few other necessities, stuffed some granola bars and an apple in the pockets of my coat, and dumped the rest. If I was going to walk on roads, through towns, I could travel much lighter. I gave my big backpack to some guys I saw in a nearby parking lot. And I set off for Damascus. 

The sky still threatened. I was worried it might rain, but the walk was nice and I was warm. I didn’t think I would make it to Damascus before 10:30 pm, and I doubted that I would be able to find a room, but in any case walking was better than sitting in the cold dark. I passed sheep, cows, and horses. A grade school softball game. A farmer cutting hay. Then, after four miles, a beat-up pickup stopped, though I hadn’t been asking for a ride. My savior was an old, round, grizzled man, with a dirty cap and a full mountain-man beard. He was half-drunk, I think. But he got me to Damascus by 8 pm, and by 9:30 I was showered and in bed at “The Maples” bed-and-breakfast.

I awoke the next morning to a flawless pale blue sky. The tempest was past. Then I walked downstairs, and bumped into Geezer and Half and Half, friends from the trail. An extravagant breakfast followed. It was like a dream. 

Continued...