Today Goatman had to get off the trail due to a foot injury. In my logical mind I know that this choice, one that I support wholeheartedly, is the right one, but my logical mind takes second fiddle to my heart when I see my friend, hiking buddy, trail family and source of constant laughter driving away, not knowing when I will see him next.
I remember the first time I met Goatman back in North Carolina. We were at a shelter - I believe Muskrat Creek - "high" atop a mountain (back before we knew what real mountains were) with brutally cold winds that forced you into your sleeping bag far before the sun had fully set. He was rolling with a group that I found awesomely intimidating (read: I was intimidated by their awesomeness) - a spunky girl named 2 Pack and a magnificent bearded man named Headstand (now some of my closest friends on the trail). He was notably quieter than his companions (oh how the tides have turned!) and all I remember him saying was something about if he lost weight he'd be in big trouble because REI doesn't make a smaller pack. I was pretty sure this guy was too cool for school.
Hiking with him for the past weeks has been nothing short of an absolute delight and pushing forward into Harpers Ferry without him yesterday on our remarkably easy slack pack was disconcerting, as was our hike out of Harpers Ferry into Maryland (our 6th state!).
It is always tough to have part of your trail family fall off from the group for whatever reason and, I have to admit, part of me is so excited that for once it isn't me that is having to depart from the group. It is especially hard when that person has been as supportive a friend as Goatman.
G-man, we miss you buddy, and we will finish this trek for you.
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