Rereading that blog entry, I find it hard to believe that we were “just friends” and I didn’t have any romantic inclinations towards Matt (at least not consciously). I’m still amazed I found him. What I hadn’t written was that: 1) Dave kept asking if I wanted to go, even after I kept declining, 2) I had called the Manchester Center post office before we left, and they had misinformed me that Matt hadn’t come by yet, and 3) whatever possessed me to invite Breadless to stay with Dave’s family while he was waiting for his replacement pack to arrive? Surely, stars were aligning.
What the Kirks remember (and I didn’t document this on my blog) was that they had just pulled off to the side of the road to drop Matt off, when Dave and I walk out of the woods, waving our arms. Dave and I hadn’t seen Matt at Maine Junction, our rendezvous point, so we had kept hiking. Then an enthusiastic camper slowed us down by offering iced tea and cherries at eight in the morning, so that we could reach the road at the precise time that the Kirks were going to drop Matt off. That was good timing #2.
Now this past weekend, I’m driving back from Mississippi along Hwy 64 (or was it 74?) through Cherokee National Forest, wondering where the BMT crosses and where it goes, when I think I see Kevin sitting on the gate to the rafting complex, with a sign: “Hitching to Asheville”. I slam on the brakes and make a very illegal U-turn so I can pick him up. He was dropping from the race and wondering how he’d get home since most of the license plates were Florida or Tennessee. Kevin hadn’t been sitting more than 10 minutes with his sign when I pulled up.
I ask Kevin if he’s in any hurry to head back, and since he says he’s just grateful for the ride, I decide to take the scenic route to explore the area mountains where the BMT runs through. Kevin has maps and helps me locate the trail crossings, although most of the time we only realized where they were when we had already passed them. After eating lunch at an overlook, I start driving down the Cherhola (?) Skyway again, when I see a trailhead kiosk and turn in. It was Mud Gap, and there was a very obvious white diamond to mark the BMT. I think it would be fun to leave a note for the runners, so I’m leaning on the kiosk writing, when I hear Kevin quietly exclaim something and look up. Guess who’s coming down the trail?
Yes, it’s Matt, and this was completely unplanned. Uwharrie's thrilled!
Maybe all these incidences are just good stories, but what amazes me and makes me wonder is that once again, I was feeling lucky. My aunt showed me how to read someone's fortune on their hands. I look at the crease on the palm side of my thumbs, and I do see eyes. She asked me if I sometimes know something will happen before it does. Just sometimes. :-)
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