March 3: Shenandoah

I’ve been reading Bill Bryson’s A Walk In The Woods. I have always thought I’d love to walk portions of the Appalachian Trail. I do not fool myself that I could endeavor the entire 2,000+ miles. As with most of life, my dreams involve cherry picking the very best of the trail for traversing. My dreams also entail no run-ins with bears. And air mattresses I don't have to carry in a backpack...

The closest I’ve been physically to the trail was also during an era where I was the furthest from a lifestyle that would have imagined a hike in the woods. I was with Jalal, my college love, on my 21^st birthday.

I don’t think I’ve written of Jalal before. Allow me to introduce you to a memory or two of him.

I met Jalal the first day of my freshman year at Cornell. He was…I have about a dozen thoughts at once when I remember him. There is a big space in my heart where his name lingers. I still think “beloved” when I remember him.

He was from Gaza – half Lebanese, half Palestinian. He had a thick accent and a huge heart. My culture-starved soul drowned gloriously in the exotic way he said my name. He was larger than life. The guy who was twirling his jacket over his head while dancing (and could care less who was looking). Yelling “Drinks for everyone” in the bar. Calling me a dozen endearments that translated to “little duck” and other sweet nothings. 

He had a heart bigger than the Atlantic. He had a family that embraced me, and whom I adored. My family never could properly pronounce his name, but loved him anyway. He was charismatic beyond description. What I loved most was the private man that I felt I got to know whom no one else ever met. He had a tendernous that would have surprised strangers but was my home during those years.

I was a few years younger than Jalal, and ended up leaving Cornell to follow his star when he graduated. We stayed a year in Iowa City before moving to D.C. Our paths parted after several years there. He has a wonderful wife and two beautiful children now. There will be no more chapters for us. I’ll always feel grateful for those we wrote together.

Back to Andrea turning 21. Luray, Virginia. A delightful B&B. A stunning and romantic meal. A little Honda Civic that could barely drive the Blue Ridge swells of Skyline Drive. Stops along the roadside to absorb lush swelling vistas. A heart full of memories made during a long weekend.

Luray is close to the Appalachian Trail. It would never have occurred to me to hike that trail back then. My eyes and heart were upon this man I loved. He was not a nature-type guy. The trip was a total gift to an Iowan missing nature while living in the urban jungle of DC.

I have more independence of spirit (and eyes free to roam the horizon) today that I didn’t have then. The Appalachian Trail sounds like delicious possibility today.

Trampled By Turtles - Shenandoah