Ph: Love: Love Begins, Trail Vanishes Poem by Brian Johnston

I got to know her on Pacific Crest Trail's ridge
It was a water shed transition in my life.
With best friend Kim, my wife to be (or not to be) ,
Georgia and Kim already three weeks from trail head,
And I was bringing bacon home
To lovely, undernourished waifs,
A hero certainly in my own mind.

A full moon raged at first night's camp,
Just down the hill from where they'd camped,
I'd bear-proofed food high up in trees
For our projected trip to Tuolumne.

Across a knee deep rushing stream from stores
Lay hot volcanic springs in meadow graced
By grotto like rock walls that offered privacy.
And we cooked supper on its grassy, moon-lit banks,
Our feet deep in pool bottom's silky mud,
A memory I treasure still of serendipitous reward.

When morning broke we hiked back up
To where I'd found the girls
Expecting to renew the trek
But plans had changed and after Kim
Dropped bomb that she and I were through,
Though she would always 'be my friend, '
For reasons not yet clear.
If Kim and I had had a checkered past
Of on and off, a modern digital romance,
Once more I thought that we were done.

So I packed up to go back home alone
Instead of hiking with them as we'd planned.
My own tears cut short by the shock
And mollified by Georgia's empathy,
Opining that I once more was a single man,
I thought to ask for Georgia's phone,
In hopes that she might be my friend as well.

Apparently this was a big mistake,
Although I felt no guilt at all,
But girls shed tears and both were mad at me.
Then suddenly, plans changed again,
The girl's hike also came to end,
And all packed up for our trip home,
Though what remained was all downhill.
Hitchhiking sure is easy with cute girls!