Saturday, June 25: Shyline Drive.

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Saturday, June 25: Oh, Shenandoah, I long to see you…”

Today I rode from Pine Grove, Pa., to Loft Mountain, at the southern end of Skyline Drive in Shenandoah National Park.

A man painting the outside of the motel got me headed in the right direction, and I cruised along Swatera State Park, where I crossed the Appalachian Trail, and even saw a “through hiker” (that’s what they call folks hiking the whole length from Georgia to Maine) with a huge pack on his back.

Going through Dauphin County, I laughed out loud remembering Benjamin’s first pun. We used to go into Dauphin County to go to his favorite restaurant—a Friendly’s. He was only about 4 or 5, and he had a squirt gun shaped like a dolphin. He pointed it at me and said, sternly, “I’m the Dolphin County Sheriff.”

Central Pennsylvania brought back lots of memories from the days when I lived there in the 1970s. I rode through Fort Indiantown Gap, where I covered a story about a resettlement camp for refugees from Vietnam after the fall of Saigon. Crossing the Susquehanna River, I remembered covering the Three Mile Island disaster. (The s[I;;ed radioactive water stillhas not been cleaned up.) And riding through Shippensburg, I saw several families riding into town in horse-and-buggies. I don’t know if they were Amish or Mennonites, but they were beautiful looking plain folk. I covered an Amish barn-raising once. They finished it in one day, while an “English” farmer across the road was taking six months to do a similar job. Going through Chambersburg, I was delighted to see Wilson College appeared to be flourishing. I loved covering the story of the time the board of trustees voted to close the college for financial reasons. But a motivated and enthusiastic group of students, alumni and faculty fought back with demonstrations and a lawsuit, and they won!

I love rivers. On Wednesday, I crossed the Cape Cod Canal, The Taunton River, and the Providence River. On Thursday, I crossed the Connecticut and the Hudson. And today, I crossed the Susquehanna, the Potomac, and the Shenandoah—those last two are my favorites.

I had planned to take a mountainous route past Mont Weather, but decided to head directly to Front Royal so I could get onto Skyline Drive sooner. I made it and got there by about 2 p.m. I truly must be the most beautiful road in America. The campground at Big Meadows was full, so I continued south to Loft Mountain, which is my favorite campground in the world. I have loved it since Barbara and I borrowed a tent from the Navy and camped there in 1972. On that first fateful evening, a black bear opened our cooler and ate all our food! I’ve been back many times since.

Misty mountain sunset from the Appalachian Trail at Loft Mountain Campground

After setting up my tiny nylon backpackers’ tent (a far cry from the huge canvas monster from the Navy), I rode down to the Loft Mountain Wayside for dinner. On the way back up, I stopped at the camp store and bought a bottle of water. Then I stopped by the amphitheater because there is usually a cell phone signal there. To my surprise, a folksinger was standing on stage, singing to about half a dozen people. It wasn’t on any program, he just felt like singing, and he was very good.

By then it was almost sunset, so I went to my favorite spot in the world. In fact, when I meditate and try to imagine “my happy place,” It is this spot. It is a rock outcropping on the west side of the Loft Mountain Campground, right on the Appalachian Trail. The sun sets over a seemingly endless series of mountain ridges. I have been there many times. The combination of the beautiful view and the beautiful memories brought tears to my eyes.

Then I climbed into my tent and fell asleep to the sounds of birds chirping and other happy campers talking around camp fires.