This weekend I made a return trip to the mountains of North Carolina to see my friends, Paula and David. Last November–after six years of not seeing each other, I visited with them in their home near Sparta Hike Over Bluff Mountain: Friendship Continued. Now, five months later, we had our recent time together to refer back to. With good friends, whether it’s been six years or five months, when you reunite it’s like you’ve never been apart.

Paula loves to hike and has been enthusiastic about my plan to walk the Camino this August. In November, we hiked at Doughton Park but this time we enjoyed a new area–Grayson Highlands in southwest Virginia– 28 miles away. One of the draws of Grayson Highlands are the wild ponies that inhabit the area.

When I drove away from their home on that fall morning in November, heading south on Highway 221, I wondered how things would change in my life, in theirs, by my next visit. Time passes so quickly, and my life has had so many changes in the past few years, that now I steady myself by looking at how things are progressing throughout the year.

Yesterday, Paula and I got an early start–driving the country roads with broad vistas of rolling hills dotted with the dark green of Christmas tree farms. On the hillsides, were black cows, like pepper flakes, grazing in the morning sun–the cows more plentiful in Alleghany county than people. It was so quiet driving those rural roads compared to the fast, temperamental traffic on the interstates near my home–where Paula and David used to live. I can see why the calm of those roads suits Paula, especially; now she finds it difficult to be on those Triangle roadways that she drove for years.

The weather was perfect for hiking–not too hot and with a bit of a breeze. We loaded our backpacks and started up the Massie Gap trail which climbs to an altitude of around 4800 feet. We watched for the ponies along Wilburn Ridge Loop, scanning the grasses dotted by evergreens and trees yet to produce their spring leaves. Unlike the lower area of the mountains, with soft green hues from the new leaves that appeared like a sponge painting landscape, the hardwood trees at Grayson Highlands were bare.

We spotted one lone pony in an area where they’d dropped hay. Later, we passed a family who reported a gathering of ponies–including some foals, over the next peak–about a mile away. There are constant choices on journeys–even day hikes. We couldn’t go to the other trails we’d planned if we continued on a mile, with steeper climbing, and then the return mile. We would be content to see the one pony; it was enough.

The next path we took was the Cabin Creek Falls Trail. There we encountered steep rocks, like stairs, that ran by the waterfalls. Most challenging were the trees with extensive, winding roots that threatened to catch the toe of my hiking boot. When I reminded myself to take it slow and carefully place my foot in between the roots, my mind rushed to the impact of an injury now, so close to leaving for the Camino. In November, as the fallen leaves crunched under my feet, walking the Camino was partially a dream, a consideration. But since I purchased my airline tickets in January, it’s been much more real.

In the past couple of months, with more of what I call training days, my focus has sharpened on what I must do to be ready. Now my hiking poles are more familiar to my hands and were a great help on the steep sections. How I appreciated the way they helped with the impact of the decent down that rock stairway–made by nature at uneven intervals and odd angles.

Throughout our hiking, Paula and I stopped to catch our breath, drink water, and talk about the stuff of our lives. How nice it was for us to have “girl time” to catch up. We’ve been friends since 2000–right at the time I was diagnosed with breast cancer. She’s fifteen years younger than me, half-way between the age of me and my sons. Paula and David were like family to my boys–like the favored Aunt and Uncle instead of parents. Paula has been a trusted friend, confidante, and the voice of a younger generation with a broader perspective; what a valuable mix.

We covered all our favorite topics–the latest music we’re listening to, books and podcasts that we’ve loved, concerns with politics, updates on our extended families, and what else, but the latest on my dating life 🙂 Paula was there when I struggled with my marriage and has been with me through the reconstruction of my life. When we talked at my November visit, I was dating a man that she’d actually worked with. She vouched for him as a “Good Guy” and she could picture who I was talking about.

But —-weeks after my visit, he and I ended our relationship. Paula got an update by phone and then eventually, I talked with her about the new guy I was dating. Now, that’s been four months and hiking by the rushing water of the falls, feeling Paula’s love of the mountains, made me think of him. Then there was a blooming plant that I’d never seen before, and Paula identified it as a Trout Lily. It was another reminder of the “New Guy” who loved to trout fish in creeks like the one along the trail.

We finished our six miles of hiking, tired and satisfied and ready for showers and dinner. David heated the meatballs and sauce I’d brought and added in their homemade bread, noodles, and salad. How nice to sit around the table eating a meal with them–like we’d done so many times before.

We talked about his retirement–just days away, and all that had gone into making the decision that now was the time. I remembered back to that decision in my life–the concerns with finances, would you have enough without that check you were used to, dealing with health insurance etc. The conversation moved on to the risks we take in life and the benefits of having more freedom; our lives were moving forward in a natural flow.

This morning, we ended our visit and I drove down Highway 220 feeling much like I did last November; what will I know about my life when I come for the next visit?; what will I learn from walking the Camino?; what changes will occur for Paula and David? I think of what I wrote in the retirement card I gave David, the ending wish, “go forth and enjoy the next chapter of your life.”

That’s all that we can do.

Blessings to you as you go forth,

Connie