Hike through the rhododendrons (the rhodies as we thru-hikers call it) on the winding trail up to the summit of Blood Mountain and you will emerge on the highest point on the Appalachian Trail in Georgia.

Scramble atop on the huge boulder there and look south, to Woody Gap, to Black Mountain, all the way to Springer Mountain and the start of the A.T. some 30-odd miles to the south.

In springtime, when most A.T. hikers pass by here, the view is magnificent; when dogwoods and azaleas and rhododendrons bloom and brilliantly color the otherwise gray canopy of the hardwood forests of this southern end of the Blue Ridge Mountains.

Spend a night in the old stone shelter and share the mountaintop chill with the mice and maybe even a skunk as I did once (I've made the trek north on the A.T. from Springer three times now) and you will have experienced one of the finer places on the 2,150-mile long trail as it journeys north to Maine.

Perhaps this is just what the lively young hiker named Meredith Emerson was looking for when she climbed the flanks of Blood Mountain last Tuesday with her dog.

And disappeared, somewhere, somehow.

Suspiciously. Very much so.

How very sad.

My prayers, and I trust yours, are with the Emerson family as they wait for what we all hope will be a happy reunion with Meredith very soon.

But I fear the worst.

The A.T. down south has had much too much of its share of sad tales like this, mostly involving women hikers, who innocently walk into the woods and end up dead, often at the hands of a fellow (male) hiker.

Yes, statistically I suppose, the incidents are few and far between, but each becomes such a high profile affair that it seems more frequent than it really is.

Nonetheless, it happens, and it scares the hell out of me. And probably you too.

You live, you hike, you take your chances. You trust in others. Most times that's OK.

Let's hope to dear God that this story has a good ending and Meredith Emerson walks out of the north Georgia woods alive real soon.