14/07/2025
Thrashed poor Max Forester on Saturday, July 12th up the gravel-ish road past the Army Ranger camp in North Georgia for three rugged miles to Cooper Gap. Not off-roading -- merely rough roading. Max's (third) transmission was hot and a bit angry.
So, we paused ... met three guys from Atlantaland and North Carolina hiking to Woody Gap, popped them some water, captured their portraits, shared a few kind words.
Max cooled down and we enjoyed another few miles on a less hostile path through the verdant green canopy that is the forest in summer along the Appalachian Trail.
Hot day. Muggy. An occasional breeze hinted at rain showers and/or storms in the area.
It was just about noon. I sat in Max and didn't put out any chairs. As you might already know, I wasn't expecting anyone to pass by. Only takes a minute to open up a few chairs to meet, greet and treat anyone going by, so I read a chapter of Proverbs and waited.
As you might already know, it didn't take long before our first visitors arrived.
Just as it began to sprinkle and cool down the midday heat.
Father & son from Oklahoma. Andrew and his dad. They were great. Not just because Andrew is an Eagle Boy Scout and treated with love & respect from his dad (and vice-versa) but because Andrew took my teasing exceptionally well.
Ya see ... I'm a grumpy old man.
A strident grampa.
Old school (but I wouldn't whack anyone's knuckles with a ruler) when it comes to manners. And always looking for a way to have fun in the woods with strangers.
Asked them if they'd like a cool bottle of water.
Andrew, bless his heart, said, "Sure!"
Did he say "please"? Nope.
As you might already know, that's where I go into Grumpy Grampa mode and remind people they need to say please (not just to me).
Andrew was great. So was his dad -- after falling into the 'didn't say please' trap himself.
Maybe you have experienced the amazing and rare experience of spending a day or three in the woods hiking with your father or son. My guess is most of us cannot.
As you might already know, I was knocked out by them both. Hiker heroes to me & Max.
I mentioned to them about how I love to pamper ladies on the Trail -- knowing they don't need and/or want pity or some dweeb saying "Wow! You're a girl? And you hike?"
It's a girl-dad and girl-grampa thing.
Not a karma or quid-pro-quo thing.
Not a 'someone will be nice to my girls, if I'm nice to theirs.'
Just the joy of surprising someone with random kindness, that we all need and receive too infrequently.
And ... that's when the vivacious lady walked into our midst. On her way to connecting with her loving hubby on the far side of Sassafras (the steep hill that couldn't keep them apart).
Nope
She didn't need nothin' no how.
No water. No chair. No granola bar. No conversation.
But who doesn't like a bit of pampering?
Am I right?
The Guys from Oklahoma and Max & I enjoyed her company as she sat (in a chair in her choice of colors), quenched her thirst with cool water, munched a granola bar (in her choice of flavors) and conversed with us about her hubby.
He's not a hiker. "That's not his thing."
So, is that a deal breaker for relationships?
Nope. (At least it doesn't have to be.)
He drives her to trailheads. Makes sure she's supplied. Then, he waits for her to reappear up/down the trail she's on to reunite.
I love that. They found a way to be on the same path in their marriage without having to clone one another.
As an old friend used to say, "If husbands & wives are exactly the same, one of them is unnecessary."
As you probably already know, everyone packed up and posed for pix, waved goodbye and pleasantly returned to the path they were following before meeting Max.
I went back into Max to read and ponder.
Left the chairs out, just in case.
When I heard a flock of ladies up above ... on their way down into Horse Gap.
My hearing (after many years of wearing headphones at radio stations at insanely loud levels) is crummy. Couldn't hear what they were saying ... but it sounded like a language other than English.
Pfffft
Not a problem!
We Trail Angels are trained to provide smiley greetings in French and Spanish too. (Neither of which were applicable.)
As you may remember ... there was a time at Horse Gap when I was spending time with a cop from one of the boring states in the upper middle part of America when a large Black guy came down the Trail loudly speaking and laughing in Spanish.
Well, I thought it was Spanish.
But when I hollered my best "bienvenido amigo" he didn't respond. At all.
At that moment, the cop shouted what sounded like "Jambo!!!" and the hiker lit up like he'd just met an old friend.
Turns out, the cop was trained to greet people in a bunch of languages -- part of dealing with all types of men and women in crises.
The cop knew how to say hello in (ready?) Swahili!
Don't you just love the Appalachian Trail.
So, anyway.
The first lady who appeared didn't acknowledge my Spanish greeting, but didn't seem (not scared ... not concerned) jarred.
She spoke to her three friends behind her in a dialect of India? Not sure.
They wisely judged and determined that Max & I were (obviously) not much of a threat and they were certainly welcome to accept a chair, some cool water and a moment's rest before climbing Sassafras.
Ladies from Atlantaland, that city that portends more danger than me or Max, thank God.
No names. No pictures, thank you.
Gave them Max's business card so they could see what we do, if only second-hand.
Because that's the deal. I ask permission to take and post pix. No demands. Just an offer. No means no.
Pretty soon their voices were chattering up toward Cooper Gap. Happy sounds. Safe sounds. Friendly sounds. Words and thoughts known to themselves, not to me & Max.
In a little while, Max & I packed up and headed up to Tallulah Falls to cook hot dogs and enjoy bluegrass music at the Saturday evening shindig.
We took the long way there. On one of our favorite dirt roads headed past Max Forester Falls to the now usually-empty Gooch Gap (a formerly fruitful field for harvesting Trail magic).
Felt the usual twinge of regret as we turned onto the highway to go up to Woody Gap. Just to see if anybody needed anything.
You understand.
And ... we met the first three guys we ran into at Cooper Gap! They made it to their vehicle and were loading up to head back to semi-civilization down below.
That was nice.
Then?
Max & I experienced how kind people can be along the Appalachian Trail, but I didn't realize the magnitude of the kindness until we drove down to Dahlonega.
Happened in a moment.
Just a few words.
That were understood ... in language and intent.
A family was packing up their car after, I presume, a hike to Preachers Rock. A young, pretty mother (so shoot me, I noticed) was standing by her car with the door open.
I said, "Excuse me! Is there any toilet paper in the ladies room?"
She simply smiled and said, "yes."
Didn't take 10 seconds.
Didn't strike me until I drove away that saying that to a stranger could have been taken as something quite weird.
I'm very thankful that somehow (I think) she understood that I keep extra rolls of TP in the Goodie Bins in case there wasn't any, and I would've donated some.
Nice to be understood, isn't it?
No matter where you're from or where you're going. No matter who you're with or without. No matter what language you speak or how understandably you express yourself. There's room for one and all on the Appalachian Trail.
Max Forester & I would love to meet you, and get to know something about you in a couple of minutes, until you need to be on your way. With our blessings.
