Packing Away Memories of Backpacking Europe

Every so often, as I groan about how heavy my computer case and purse are that I carry to work each day, I realize I've become a wimp.
What happened to the woman I was back in '88, when I backpacked through Europe with a 70-pound pack? What happened to the young woman I was, filled with adventure, spirit and the ability to walk long distances with that 70 pounds on my back -- well, mainly because it usually meant my travel companions and I were lost and attempting to find out hostel in some strange city with a strange language and strange street signs that we didn't quite understand.
The best thing about backpacking was the people we met along the way. We were this network of people who trusted each other and kindly offered advice. Like, here are the best places to see in Europe. Here's the hostel that serves Nutella for breakfast in huge bowls. Here's the best cathedral to see. And here's the way to protect yourself from kids who are trying to rob you while you're carrying around your 70-pound pack and looking through you Let's Go Europe book.
It's funny how we learned to trust these backpackers so much. We could have seen someone carrying a chainsaw and a backpack -- and feel the guy was safe because he was a fellow backpacker.
We got a lot of  valuable travel tips and a lot of good friends. Some of these friends remain friends of mine to this day.
However, every so often I wish I knew what happened to the other backpackers I met and bonded with for sometimes a few hours, days or even weeks. I sometimes wonder if, in today's so-connected online world, if there is a way to track these people down and reconnect with them.
But sadly, while sometimes I try to search them, I can't find them. They probably have moved, married, changed names, careers. 
For example, I think of a woman named Judith Hack, who was from Hamburg, Germany.  I met her in Rome in 1988 -- and I have wonderful memories of hanging out with her, and checking out the ancient Roman ruins as well as St. Peter's Square with her.
I remember sitting with her along the giant columns in St. Peter's Square: we visited there a few times, and watched as the world carried on around us. We were there a day before the Pope did an open air Mass -- returned the day of the Mass -- and came back the day after.
To sit there for hours, and reflect on the experience, was one of the most memorable times of my life that I cherish, for a lot of reasons. To be able to share that experience with someone from another country, to learn what it was like to experience the event through her eyes, to share what it was like to grow up on different sides of the world with our families and different experiences, and yet have this opportunity to share together this unique experience -- it was an incredible learning experience for me.
Do I have pictures of those days so many decades ago? Sadly, when I tried to mail home my films for developing, someone stole all the film out of the package. I was heartbroken -- I lost about 99 percent of my pictures of Rome. All I have are the memories.
But about a month after I met Judith, I was traveling through Hamburg and visited her -- and we sat in her small apartment and looked through her photo albums, and .... there we were. Two young women, from two different countries, exploring Rome and laughing with friends.
I know somewhere out there, Judith is probably carrying on her life. Not sure what career she is in, whether she's married, if she's a mother. I don't know if she still lives in Germany. I wonder how it was to see the Berlin wall crumble, to grow up in such different times than when we first backpacked.
When I think of Judith, and so many other wonderful people I met through those months of backpacking, suddenly my heavy computer back seems lighter. My step is quicker. My outlook is brighter.
There really have been some wonderful people I met in my life, and I guess there always is the hope that some day we'll meet again.