Oh, Shenandoah!

During the last few years, Barbara and I have been trying to visit as many of the U.S. National Parks as we can. This past spring, a trip out west took us to Bryce, Joshua Tree, the Grand Canyon, Death Valley, and more.

But we have a treasure practically in our backyard. Shenandoah National Park, just about an hour from the DC area. It’s an often-neglected gem. I’ve visited it more than any other park, more than a dozen times, but still that’s not very often considering how close I have lived to it my entire life.

Earlier this month, we spend several days in Shenandoah camping and hiking, and I was reminded how beautiful this place is.

The entrance to the north end of the park is near Front Royal, Virginia. Front Royal has grown quite a bit since I was a kid but still has a reasonable amount of charm. Worth a stop is the famous Luray Caverns nearby. Shortly after leaving town, you turn onto the famous Skyline Drive and stop at the park entrance to pay the entrance fee ($30 per car) or if you happen to have a Golden Age Lifetime Pass (as my wife does and as I will in just about 60 days) you wave it at the ranger, he or she gives you a map, and you are on your way.

Upon entering the park, you immediately begin ascending. The park, established by Franklin Roosevelt in 1935, hugs the Shenandoah mountains (part of the Appalachian Range) and Skyline Drive soars along the ridge affording lovely views in all directions. The maximum speed on Skyline Drive is 35 mph and you really don’t want to go much faster as you navigate the many hairpin turns. Every few miles there are turnouts to gawk at the views as the Drive goes from nearly sea level to more than 1,000 meters (3,000 feet) above. As you ascend, the temperature begins to drop.

On the day we arrived, DC was experiencing its usual summer heat. Actually, they say it’s the worst summer in 150,000 years but I don’t know that first hand. I can tell you it was more than 90 F as we left the highway. Within an hour of driving into the park, the temperatures had dropped into the high 70s. Still warm but nowhere near as oppressive.

There are three drive up campgrounds in the park. We stayed at Big Meadows, which is the only one that has showers. With two days of long hikes ahead, a shower would be a necessity. We found our campsite and set up the van for our two-day stay.

The Appalachian Trail runs straight through the park and this would be the trail for our hikes. On the first day we hiked north 6 miles and then back and the second day we hiked 4 miles south and back.

Both of our hikes started at the nearby, rustic Big Meadows Lodge. I made a mental note that we had to return and stay in one of the cozy cabins. The lodge includes a restaurant, a café, a large sitting room and an outdoor patio where you can sit among the trees and scroll social media using the lodge’s wifi as most of the guests seemed to be doing. We had no time for this, but we did stop to download maps in case we didn’t have service on the trail (we didn’t) and to text a family member where we were going, just in case.

Most of the time, we were hiking through what is known as the “green tunnel” but occasional the trail would emerge into a clearing offering spectacular views of the valleys below. We often came upon deer grazing right next to the trail. They seemed completely unfazed by our presence barely bothering to look up as we went by. The woods were filled with the sounds of birds and other creatures but being mid-week, we saw just a few others of our species. Although the heat wasn’t too bad, it was still very humid and we were grateful for the showers at the end of the day. The showers are $5 for 10 minutes and are coin operated (quarters only) so that is forty quarters for the two of us! Fortunately, there was a change machine (ones and fives only) and we actually had a enough actual bills on hand.

At night the temperature dropped further and was perfect for sleeping in the van, which can get stuffy when it is too warm outside. Our fellow campers were quiet and considerate (mostly) and thankfully, we had been able to secure a spot in the ‘generator free loop.”

Shenandoah gets a lot of visitors, 1.4 million annual. But it didn’t feel at all crowded mid-week in July. Certainly, the parking lots fill up at the most popular hikes and the campgrounds are at capacity on the weekends, but with more than 197,000 acres of wilderness, there is room to spread-out.

Every time, I visit this park, I think, why don’t I come here more often? This trip was no different. Shenandoah is a cool, green mountain escape from the heat of the DC summer. If you are nearby, maybe it’s time to plan your getaway.

Wander Lost

Of all the things I’ve lost I miss my mind the most.

--Ozzy Ozborne

I used my Apple AirTag to follow a stranger around DC for four hours. Then I approached her while she was eating in a restaurant with a friend and requested that she return it.

Let me explain.

Last week, I met up with my old friend, Steve for a ramble around the Folk Life Festival on the national mall and a vague plan for lunch following. When I say Steve is an old friend, I don’t mean that he is old (although like me, he is) but rather a long-time friend. His dorm room was next to mine my first semester of college and thereafter we roomed together for most of college including a semester in which we shared a little apartment near the Olympic Stadium in Munich. We’ve traveled together in Italy, hiked bits of the Appalachian trail, and toured many an art museum together on various continents, and enjoyed many a road trip.. He probably knows more unflattering things about me than anyone including my wife.

It was, as is to be expected in July in DC, hot and humid by 10 am and getting stickier by the minute. As we ambled about the mall, I got a phone call from another friend and former colleague whom I hadn’t heard from in more than a year. Curious, I took the call though it was exceedingly rude to do so. Drawing my iPhone from its faux-suede sleeve, I spoke for five minutes and then Steve and I continued on our way.

About five minutes later my iPhone alerted me (through my Apple Watch) that my phone sleeve had been left behind. But no, there it was in my bag with my phone in it.

Then I realized what had happened.

I keep my phone in a sleeve to protect the screen from scratches, but I am always losing the sleeve. In fact, this is my second one, having lost the last permanently in someone’s car. So, to prevent this one from being lost, I tucked an Apple AirTag into the sleeve’s little pocket. The AirTag had fallen out of the pocket when I took out my phone.

If you haven’t heard of them, AirTags are little coin shaped objects about the size of a half dollar that you can attach to or tuck inside your stuff so that if you lose the thing, you can find it again. They pair to your phone and talk to it using Bluetooth at close range. So, if you lose your keys around the house, you can ping them using your phone and the app will lead you to them with a directional arrow. Or you can have the AirTag make a chirp to help you find it. As someone who loses his stuff all the time, these have been a life saver for me. I have no fewer than nine AirTags, one of which is attached to each set of car keys, my house keys, my umbrella, inside the pocket of my Tilley Hat and inside my often-misplaced phone sleeve. But now, an AirTag I used to keep from losing stuff was itself lost.

No problem! The “Find My” app on my phone showed the AirTag still on the mall near the American History Museum where I had taken the call. Steve being the good sport that he is, agreed that we would walk back to grab it.

But by the time we reached the spot, the tag didn’t seem to be on the mall any more. Now it was 500 meters away in front of the museum itself. We turned and started walking that way.

Now, one thing is important to know about AirTags. Once you are beyond Bluetooth range (about 10 meters or 30 feet) the tag can’t communicate directly with your phone. Instead, it sends out a signal with its location that can be picked up by any Apple iPhone or iPad that happens by. Then, that person’s iPhone (unbeknownst to them) anonymously reports the location to an Apple Server which then tells the owners phone where it is, allowing him or her to find it anywhere as long as someone with an iPhone walks by it. BUT, and this is important, if the AirTag is moving it only updates its location when it passes close to another iPhone and mine appeared to be moving!

The AirTag seemed now to be inside the museum. Steve and I went inside. I figured it would just be a minute or two until I tracked down the person who had obviously found the thing and was walking around with it. It was probably a tourist, maybe a child. I’d confront them, demand it back and that would be that.

But the Airtag was always a step ahead of me and the delay in its reporting its location meant that by the time I got to the room where it had been, it was already gone. I couldn’t get close enough for my phone to connect to it and lead me right to it. It may have even been on a different floor in the four-story museum.

After about a half hour of dragging poor Steve in and out of the museum, I decided that this was not a good use of our time together. Afterall, an AirTag only costs about $25. I could just get another one.

Anyway, by now we were both hungry and headed over toward the newly developed waterfront in Southeastern DC. The harbor is now lined with fancy condos, retail, and restaurants. I hadn’t been there since it was redeveloped, and I was curious to see what had been done.

It is nice though somewhat soulless. I imagined living in one of those $2,000,000 condos and waking up each morning to a living room flooded with light overlooking the colorful boats in the harbor. But, yeah, that is probably not happening, so I contented myself with the dream as we dined on fish and chips at Gordon Ramsey’s Hell’s Kitchen. Two portions of F&C and two beers $54.96! Pricey, but hey it’s Gordon Ramsey so shut up and be grateful you lout!

After lunch, it was time for Steve to head back to work. Yes, he still goes to an office from time to time! I don’t understand what exactly he does but oil and gas is somehow involved, and it is clearly very important since he isn’t permitted to retire.

I walked with Steve to his building and then set out for the Metro to head home but first, I thought I’d take a peek and see where my AirTag had journeyed. It was at Dupont Circle, several miles from where I lost it! Dupont Circle happens to be on the red line in my homeward direction. I decided to keep an eye on the AirTag as I descended into the Smithsonian Station.

By the time I reached Farragut West, the tag was at Farragut North and headed my way. On a whim, I jumped off the subway and dashed up the escalator to the surface. The AirTag was 500 meters away at Farragut Square Park. Perhaps one of seemingly homeless men sitting on the benches had picked it up. I chatted with them prepared to give a reward if they had found it. I showed them another AirTag to explain what one was. They just looked at me like I was speaking another language. Anyway, by this point the AirTag had clearly moved on without any of us.

Again, I gave chase always seemingly five minutes too late to find the AirTag and the person attached to it. The search led me to The White House where hundreds of tourists were milling about. There was a scary man camped out in a tent on the curb of Pennsylvania Avenue shouting obscenities through a megaphone in the President’s general direction. It wasn’t clear exactly what his complaint was, if indeed he had one, but he looked as if he had not been outside of that tent for a very long time. The tourists ignored him as did I since he didn’t appear to be in possession of my AirTag and if he had been, I wouldn’t have dared ask him for it.

Then the trail went cold. The last update said that my Tag was at 700 Jackson Way right across the street from The White House. There were two police officer looking dudes standing at the corner. I asked them if they had found an AirTag. They had not. The AirTag had stopped updating. Twenty minutes went by. It didn’t seem to move from the corner of Jackson Way but it wasn’t actually there.

AirTags have a feature that is meant to prevent the owner from using it to track or stalk another person. If the AirTag is traveling with someone other than their owner, it will try to alert that person by making a sound. A message will also pop up on their phone telling them that an unknown AirTag is traveling with them and explaining how to remove the battery to disable it.

I was sure that this is what had happened. The finder had disabled the thing and that was the end of my search. Once again, I headed toward the Metro and home. By now it was 2 pm. Very hot and very sticky, I had been walking for several hours at this point and I had drunk all of the water in my bottle. “Enough!” I thought as I dragged myself up 17th Street toward the Red Line. And then… there it was again at the corner of 17th and Pennsylvania Avenue. I struggled to let it go. I couldn’t. The challenge was just too great. I turned back toward Pennsylvania Ave.

Back at the corner of 17th & Penn. I waited for the tag to update again. Each time it did I got a little closer. Finally walking up and down Pennsylvania the phone connected to the tag, the arrow was pointing inside a restaurant. It was 5 meters away!

Once inside, the arrow on my phone pointed directly at a family of Indian tourists ordering at the counter. I had found them!

Drenched with sweat, my few stands of thinning hair in disarray, probably a bit smelly, I tried not to look totally crazy as I approached the father with my example AirTag in my outstretched hand.

“Did you by any chance find one of these,” I asked.

My efforts to appear like a reasonable human being were in vain. He shrunk back clearly repulsed by this insane, sweaty, old man holding out his palm.

Then something surprising happened. There was a tiny Latina woman sitting at a window counter right behind the family. She and her friend were eating what looked like delicious sandwiches. She was listening intently to what I was asking the young tourist dad.

“I found one of those!” she exclaimed.

A search ensued in which she tried to remember where in her bag she had tossed it. Then she investigated her coin purse and there was my AirTag chirping away in her hand like a little lost bird.

She was pleased to return it to me and I insisted on giving her $10 for finding it, even though if she had just left it where it was, I would have had it back hours earlier. The adventure and challenge had been worth $10. We had a little chat and I learned that she had recently moved to DC. She seemed like a nice lady. She didn’t appear to be at all creeped out that I had been following her around DC for more than four hours. I hoped she might offer me half of her sandwich, but she did not.

Ten minutes later I sank into the air-conditioned comfort of a Metro car headed north enjoying the filtered air and wishing I’d bought a bottle of water. Though thirsty, I drank deep of the satisfaction of knowing that my persistence had paid off.

AirTags work! I learned first-hand both the benefits and limitations of these clever little trackers. But one wonders if the effort needed to find the thing that helps you find things is always worth it. At any rate, I am looking for a way to secure the tag inside my phone sleeve so if I lose them again, I’ll lose them together. If I do, I may limit the time I spend searching, for in the words of Samuel Smiles, “Lost wealth may be replaced by industry, lost knowledge by study, lost health by temperance or medicine, but lost time is gone forever.”

Checking Out, Checking In

I enjoy going to the grocery store, especially a nicer one like the Wegmans in Germantown. I have to drive a bit further to get there but the reward is a beautiful clean store that has almost everything I need and a gazillion things I don’t. I used to not need the ‘almost’ qualifier but about six months ago, stopped selling kosher chicken and now I need to drive to Rockville to get kosher chicken and occasional bit of beef.

Going to the store relaxes me. It’s cool in there. There are interesting products to examine and sometimes buy and there is relaxing music inviting me to sing along much to the amusement of my fellow shoppers.

But the part, I don’t love about going to the grocery store is having to check out. I hate waiting in line and even if there is no line, it feels like a waste of time. I’ve just spent 45 minutes loading up my cart with items. Then I have to take them all out again to be rung up then toss them into bags and reload them into the cart and unloading them again 10 minutes later into my car. Then I haul them home too, you guessed it, unload them again!

Around 2019 when I was living in Rochester, New York, the flagship Wegmans in nearby Pittsford introduced a new system. Using a smart phone, one could scan the items as you took them off the shelves and place them directly into your reusable shopping bags. The produce required the extra step of placing them on a scale and weighing and then scanning the code on the scale, but I got very good at that and found it took just slightly longer than just tossing them in the cart. For non-produce, the scanning was almost frictionless. When finished shopping, you’d just walk up to a self-check out station. Scan a screen code with your phone, tap to pay, and you were on your way. Checkout could be completed in under a minute with no unloading and reloading of items. Everything stayed packed in the bags ready to place in the car. Added benefit was that I could carefully pack the bags in such a way that it made it easier to put away the groceries at home. I started going out of my way to shop in Pittsford.

I returned to Maryland just as covid was pandemicing. Stores were all trying to go ‘contactless’ and our Wegman’s here quickly rolled out the self-scan system and I was as happy as could be. I did sometimes feel pangs of guilt about the employees who could potentially be put out of a job by these types of systems but hey, there is no stopping progress, right?

As it turns out, progress can be stopped. Not by compassion for workers but by shoplifters.

Last year Wegmans announced that due to high rates of ‘shrinkage’ (i.e. theft) they were eliminating the self-scanning system. In addition, they now allow self-checkout only if you have fewer than 20 items, effectively pushing me back into the now woefully understaffed checkout lines. Other grocery chains are moving in similar directions.

I don’t blame the stores. Although, I was meticulous about carefully scanning every item, I am sure that for some the temptation to ‘accidentally’ miss scanning items was just too great. No doubt the stores were being robbed.

I was excited, when Amazon started to prepare to open an Amazon Fresh store in what used to be an Office Depot. Amazon uses a system where you just put items in your car and then you walk out of the store. Somehow the system knows what you have purchased and charges you appropriately. I haven’t used it so I don’t know exactly how it works but I was looking forward to trying it. Sadly, Amazon inexplicably changed their minds about opening the store and abandoned the project. Maybe just as well. I don’t really need Amazon in yet another part of my life.

So it’s back to standing in line at Wegmans and although I still dislike all the loading and unloading, one of the benefits of having a highly flexible (and part-time) work situation is that I can try to hit up the store during the least popular times.

And there is a bright spot: Janice.

Janice is the cashier in aisle 7 who is always nice and always friendly. As a confirmed introvert, I am not particularly chatty, but Janice is so genuinely warm that it is impossible not respond in kind. Just as I used to go out of my way to Pittsford to self-scan, I’ll now go out of my way to see Janice, waiting in her line even if it is not the shortest one.

Technology has made life easier in many ways. We can have nearly everything delivered. We can carry out our tasks and the errands of our lives often without so much as exchanging a word with a stranger and never, ever have to stop to ask directions. As convenient as that is, I think there is a sense of, if not community, then communal enterprise, that is lost. It can feel like we need each other less.

But not scanning my groceries myself means I can move through the store, without looking constantly at my phone. I can notice the people around me more and when I happen to help another shopper by picking up an item that they have dropped or chat with Janice or another rare cashier who is as nice as she, I leave the store feeling just a bit better about humanity and the state of the world.

In her poem Small Kindnesses Danusha Laméris says of these tiny interactions:

We have so little of each other, now. So far

from tribe and fire. Only these brief moments of exchange.

What if they are the true dwelling of the holy, these

fleeting temples we make together when we say, “Here,

have my seat,” “Go ahead—you first,” “I like your hat.”

Maybe you can share a kind word or even just a smile with a stranger today. Or look into the eyes of someone who is checking out your items in a shop and check in with him or her by asking, “How is your day going?”

A little small talk can have you both living large.