It Happened on the Pinnacle

Breathing heavily, Michael asked, “When are we going to be there?”

We were on our first backpacking hike on the Appalachian Trail, heading to the Pinnacle. The Pinnacle is the highest point on the A.T. in Pennsylvania. Both of us were out of shape; this overnight trip was our attempt to get ready for longer excursions.

“There are about two miles to go. It’s worth the hike,” I said as I wiped the sweat from my brow.

“This will get easier, right?”

The trail was rocky and challenging, especially with a fully loaded backpack and our unfit condition. We came upon a sign that read, “No Camping at the Pinnacle.” “The hell with that—we’re going to camp there,” I said.

We emerged from the trees onto an outcropping of rocks with a panoramic view of the valley below. It was midsummer and we could see farms with fields full of crops. A tractor made its way across one of the fields.

I dropped my backpack to the ground much harder than I’d planned and walked closer to the edge of the cliff. About a dozen people were enjoying the view. “Let’s wait till these people leave before we set up camp,” I said.

As people thinned out, we explored the area. Michael pointed to a sign that read, “Beware of Rattlesnakes.” “They like to sun themselves on the rocks,” I said.

After a bit, Michael said, “I think we can set up our tent now.”

In an area that was flat and somewhat free of rocks, we pitched the tent and placed our sleeping bags in it. I took the camping stove from my backpack and a package of freeze-dried beef stroganoff with noodles. “Let’s eat,” I said.

We finished dinner as the sun set and walked away from our campsite to the edge of the cliff. A young man with long, sandy hair was sitting on a boulder overlooking the valley. His muscular legs and slim torso showed he was in much better shape than we were.

“Can we join you?” I asked.

He moved to the edge of the boulder. “Sure. I’m Phil.”

We introduced ourselves. “We backpacked up here for the night. Our tent is over there,” Michael said.

“I’m spending the night too. All I have is a blanket.”

“What do you do for a living?” I asked.

“I haven’t worked for over six months. I used to be a priest.”

“What happened?” Michael asked.

“I decided it wasn’t for me.”

“I can understand that. I was in seminary for three years and published a paper raising doubts about my faith. Almost everyone said I shouldn't have thoughts like that. They gave me such a hard time I eventually quit.”

“Well, I’m different. I’m going to hell. I can’t be a priest if I’m going to hell.”

“What did you do?” I asked.

“I laid with a woman.”

Laughing, Michael said, “That’s not so bad. You could have done much worse. Did you steal anything or hurt anyone?”

“No. Nothing like that.”

“Do you still believe in God?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I’m not sure what to think.”

Michael and Phil discussed faith for quite some time. Michael mentioned that if everyone who slept with a woman when they shouldn't had gone to hell, heaven would be an empty place. Darkness covered the valley, with only a crescent moon high in the starry, cloudless sky. Phil clasped his hands behind his head and looked out into the distance. “No, I need to find a different path.”

We heard a muffled bang to our left. Turning, we saw a burst of light below the rim of the Pinnacle’s cliff. Another burst of light appeared in front of us. After a brief delay, we heard an explosion. Then again, to our right this time. We were observing three simultaneous firework displays, all of them below us.

“I know what’s up,” Phil said. “I live down there. Last week was the Fourth of July and it rained. These towns must be having their fireworks now.”

As we sat on the boulder overlooking the valley, fireworks exploded all around and below us. After about half an hour, the spectacular show ended. “I’m calling it a night,” Michael said.

We wished Phil a good night and climbed into our sleeping bags. “That was quite a show. What do you make of Phil?” I asked.

“He has a lot to figure out.”

In the morning, I climbed out of the tent. Michael got up before me and was standing on the boulder from the night before. “Come over here. Look at this.”

There was a large symbol painted on the boulder. “So?”

“It’s an upside-down pentagram, the sign of the devil. Our friend from last night was sitting right on it.”

“What do you make of that?”

“If I still believed in God, I’d be concerned; I’m glad I don’t.”

We broke camp; I took the tent down, rolled up my sleeping bag, and placed everything in my backpack. Michael was already shouldering his pack, so I put mine on as well. I was unsteady as I got used to the weight.

A sound startled me. Three feet away, a rattlesnake was between us, his head back and his tail shaking vigorously. “Michael, don't move!”

He saw the snake and froze. We slowly backed away, escaped safely, and sat down on a rock. My heart was pounding. “That was close,” I said.

On the walk down the mountain, I thought aloud. “We meet an ex-priest talking about the sins that caused him to quit the priesthood. Lights went off all around us as we sat on the sign of the devil. The next morning, we saw a serpent rise to meet us. Maybe there’s a deeper meaning here.”

“C’mon, Scott. When did you get so religious?”

“You’re right. What was I thinking? Where do you want to go on our next hike?”