Posts Tagged ‘coachman rv’

Night 27: Mmmmm…..Moose

Monday, August 2nd, 2010

Thursday 7-1-2010
0 Miles Hiked, 1,932.7 Miles to Springer

The NOBO hikers I met the day before left my life as quickly as they came into it. We got a group picture in front of the RV before they left. I watched as they packed up, and loaded up to head back to the trail just as I had watch Mud do the day before and I felt alone again.

I think Caretaker’s wife, Nightcrawler, sensed I was lonely, down, and struggling. Nightcrawler is a woman whose personality emits warmth and comfort. She’s is younger than her husband is Greek and has the tan complexion, and long thick black air you’d picture any Greek woman to have and she cooks like she’s Greek too. Her smile is warm and welcoming and she has an extreme motherly vibe about her.

“Tiny Tim,” She said as she knocked on the RV door. “I have a warm Epsom salt bath with some lavender mixed in for you to soak your ankle. It’ll help draw the blood in and bring down the swelling.”

“Thank you so much, this is so nice.” I said. I spent the rest of the morning and early part of the afternoon watching Lost. I’d decided if I was going to be stuck here for potentially more than a week than I would do something productive with my time like try and watch the entire series of Lost since I’d never seen any of the show. As I wasted my day away I began immediately hoping Kate and Jack would just get it over with because the sexual tension was almost too much.

While I watched Lost Monkey and Giggles were doing their work for stay in Caretaker’s yard. They were cutting down fields of weeds and clearing out fallen logs and debris from the yard and moving them onto a trailer which they towed further down the yard with one of Caretakers ATV’s.

“How are my hiker slaves doing?” I heared Caretaker ask as he inspected Monkey and Giggles work. Satisfied with they job they were doing Caretaker walked toward the RV and through the screen door said, “Tiny Tim, we’re having shepherds pie for lunch today, it’s five dollars if you would like to join us.”

“I’d love to join you guys for lunch.” I said.

I’d never had shepherds pie and the only image I had in my mind of it was when Anthony Hopkins serves a shepherds pie made of two human men to their own mother in the film version of Shakespeare’s Titus Andronicus. The shepherds pie in that movie was bloody and raw looking, but I was hungry and hungry for meat and I decided I would enjoy this pie even if it was a little bloody.

Caretaker gave a shout toward the RV from the conex where lunch was being served. “Lunch’s ready!” He said.

I crutched my way from the RV to the big orange box and had a seat at the long wooden table in the common area.

The huge meaty pie piece that sat on my plate was steaming hot, but not bloody. It looked delicious. There was a layer of ground beef on the bottom, a layer of corn cut from the cob on top of that, and it was topped with mashed potatoes that were covered in a crust of golden baked cheese. On the side were a few slices of Nightcrawler’s fresh baked bread covered in chopped garlic and soaked in melted butter.

“Did Caretaker tell you he almost hit a black bear today when he was taking Dutch to Portland?” Nightcrawler asked Monkey, Giggles, and I.

“No.” We all replied.

“Fuckin’ thing ran out in front of my car, just fuckin’ missed hitting it. I saw something black bolt from the side of the road and next thing I know I’m swerving to miss it. It scurried off into the woods on the other side. It was a decent sized bear too, probably about 200 lbs.” He said.

“What exactly are the rules on hitting a big game animal like a bear or moose, if you don’t have a license to hunt it and you hit it or see someone else hit it are you allowed to just load it up into your truck and take it?” I asked.

“Oh, did Nightcrawler not tell you, you guys are eating road kill.” He said.

My stomach turned a little as I imagined dead skunk, squirrel, raccoon, and possum making up the meat I was chewing on.”

“No, she didn’t. What type of road kill?” I asked as I swallowed the last bit of meat in my mouth.

“The meat in the shepherds pie is a moose that got hit by a car just up the street. We loaded the thing up into our truck. The head was hanging out the back, tongue out flopping all around. Hope you’re okay with eating road kill moose.” He said laughing.

“That’s fine with me, tastes like hamburger. It’s actually kind of cool to be able to say I’ve eaten moose.” I said.

“I mix it with beef fat cause it’s too lean on it’s own and it falls apart when you cook it if you don’t have the beef fat to help hold it together, and you can’t really taste a difference, can you?’ Nightcrawler asked.

“I can’t taste any difference. Everything tastes awesome.” I said.

After lunch I lounged around the RV and watched more Lost until I heard Nightcrawler knock on the door again.

“We’re having pork chops, spinach pies, and a Mediterranean salad for dinner, if you’d like to join us it’s six dollars.” Nightcrawler said.

“Yeah, I’ll join you guys, you’ve got me hooked after lunch.” I said.

“Oh thanks, we’re glad to have the company. Did the Epsom salt and lavender bath help?” She asked.

“Yeah I think so.” I said.

“I’ll bring another one out after dinner.” She said.

“That’s really nice of you thanks again.” I said.

Dinner came and Nightcrawler did not disappoint. The spinach pies had the flakiest crust and melted in your mouth. The pork chops were seasoned so they had a perfect sweetness about them, and the salad Nightcrawler picked from her back yard garden was so fresh you could taste the earth the greens were grown in.

After dinner I crutched my way back to the RV. I was filled to the brim and feeling like I could get used to eating like this. Monkey and Giggles invited me to play cards in Bob with them, but I was more interested in seeing what was going to happen next on Lost so I told them I’d have to take a rain check on the game.

They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Nightcrawler had found a way into my heart and she had filled it with hope and happiness. I fell asleep full for the first time in too long and I had hope that things were going to get better much sooner than Dr. Moses had predicted, especially if I kept eating like I had today.

Rose – Nightcrawler’s cooking.

Bud – Being one day closer to my return to the trail.

Thorn – Still being stuck on crutches.

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Night 26: There’s More Than Mud

Monday, August 2nd, 2010

Wednesday 6-30-2010
0 Miles Hiked, 1,932.7 Miles to Springer

Mud picked up his pack, walked out of the RV and loaded it into the back of Caretakers truck.

For every time he had ever been on my nerves or annoyed me, none of it mattered. I was going to really miss him. He’d become a close friend. He was the only person besides my college roommate that I’d ever spent more than two weeks sharing a sleeping space with. Mud and I didn’t just share a bedroom. We shared almost every moment of every day for the last three weeks. We’d spent every day, all day together. We’d seen and smelled each other out our lowest and stinkiest, we’d made it through so much together, and yet we’d made it through so little of the trail together. We hadn’t even finished one state together and we were separating. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen, but this was how it was going to happen.

I had no doubt of Mud’s importance in my journey. He had saved my life less than two days ago. I would have kept pushing myself up Moody Mountain if he hadn’t given me the okay to stop. I would have pushed until my ankle snapped, until I couldn’t catch a breath, until my asthma got the better of me, until my fever took over and boiled me from the inside. Mud was the reason I stopped, the reason I pushed my pride aside and put myself first. Mud was the reason I was stuck in Andover alive. I didn’t want him to leave, but the trail works in mysterious ways and I knew it was important for him to keep hiking his own hike, just as it was important for me to stay here and get better so I could get back on and keep hiking my own hike.

On the drive back to the trail head Caretaker pointed out some of Andover’s famous landmarks. He pointed to the top of a mountain that was adorned with giant satellite dishes.

“They broadcasted the first nationally televised presidential debate from those dishes. Because of where they are on the mountain and where Maine is they were the only dishes that could broadcast all the way to Europe because of the angle they are at on the mountain.” He said.

Caretaker pointed to a bare rock face on the side of another mountain just ahead of us.

“A family of three crashed their private plane right into that cliff. The mother and father died on impact. Their sixteen year old daughter climbed from the wreckage. She climbed two miles down the mountain with a broken leg. She made it to the road and got to hospital. They had to amputate her leg, but she survived. She’s a legend around here. Tiny Tim, if she did it with a broken leg, what’s your excuse?” He said.

Caretaker became quiet and Mud and I had nothing to say. My mind does what it always does when things get quiet, music turned on in my head. As we drove down South Arm road I couldn’t get Wagon Wheel by Old Crow Medicine Show out of my head. Mud and I had been listening to their music the past two days. I’d never heard anything by them until Mud started playing them on Caretaker iTunes. I instantly loved them and Wagon Wheel had become my trail anthem. I was determined to get back on the trail and start heading south just like the song says.

The trail head sign came into view and Caretaker slowed down and pulled the car of onto the gravel shoulder.

Mud got out of the car and pulled his pack out of the truck bed. I got out and hobbled on my crutches toward Mud.

“It’s going to be weird to be alone.” I said.

“Yeah, I didn’t care about going alone before we started, but it’s definitely going to be more daunting without you.” Mud said.

Mud slung his pack onto his back and buckled his hip belt.

“I’ll miss you, good luck, be safe, be smart, have fun, and text me when you get to Gorham, and be sure to write in the registers so I can see how you’re doing and how far behind you I am.” I said.

“Will do, I don’t think you’ll be catching me though.” He said as we shook hands and our quests all the sudden became separate and our paths took two different directions, at least for the time being.

I stood next to Caretakers truck and watch Mud disappear into the woods. I realized the trail would be different from here on out. There would be no more Mud.

I sat in the RV alone. I was mopey, and I wished I was better. I wished I was back on the trail hiking again.

Caretaker left the house to go get some more hikers. When he pulled into the driveway it was with some familiar faces. Monkey and Giggles, a young couple I had met about a week earlier walked out of the car. They said they had to stay in town because they were waiting for a package and would be here at least tonight and maybe another night. They opted to stay in the conex or Bob, for big orange box, so it appeared I would be alone in the RV.

Monkey and Giggles were doing work for stay so they were busy working and I was alone in the RV with my thoughts and my swollen ankle.

Caretaker left the house again. This time he returned with a smiling group of NOBO’s. Their scraggly crew was made of a one armed, bean pole of a kid named Naptime, because he liked to nap. Caretaker had renamed him The One Armed Bandit. The oldest looking guy in the group was a redheaded guy named Nopoint, apparently everything he says has no point. He was wearing a headband and a red kilt and looked like he was an extra in Braveheart. The final member of their trio was a guy named Walleye. He had piercing blue eyes, thick black wavy hair, and he got his named because he loves the band Fish.

These three would be staying in the RV with me tonight. I was glad to have the company and a distraction from the idea that I was now alone. They moved their gear into the RV and I quickly decided I like them.

With their things settled in the RV they all found something to sit on and cracked open some Old Milwaukee sixteen ounce cans. I found out they were all friends from high school. Each of them went to college for a year and decided after once year that they wanted to take a year off of school so they all decided during that year off they would hike the trail together.

As they sipped on their beers they had nothing but positive things to say about the remainder of the trail. They assured me once I got back on things would be just fine and I’d be moving fast soon enough. I was relieved for the first time since I left the doctors office.

Caretaker got a call from another couple of hikers needing a place to stay. I tagged along for the ride to get them from the general store. I bought some coffee ice cream to ice my ankle and then eat.

The two hikers we picked up were flip floppers, meaning they started in Harpers Ferry were going to Katahdin and then would go back to Harpers Ferry and head to Springer. Their names were Dutch and Chitland and they were both from Pennsylvania.

After talking to Chitland I found out that Dutch was leaving the trail for good. He was having some girlfriend and family issues. Caretaker was going to take him to the train station the next morning.

Naptime, Nopoint, Walleye, Dutch, Chitland and I all squeezed into the RV for a movie night. We watched The Count of Monte Cristo, which was awesome. The RV was dark except for the glow of the Dell monitor on which the movie played.

The occasional lighter flash as a joint was passed around and relit illuminated the faces of each of the new characters I’d met. I felt like I was in a movie, think Wet, Hot, American Summer. The hiker, outdoorsy, hippie, stoner cliche image wasn’t a cliche anymore it was reality and this was my own Wet, Hot, Appalachian Summer. Though I didn’t participate I loved these people, the attitude they carried with them, the air about them. Tomorrow didn’t matter. They were alive for today, for right now and that was all that mattered, feeling good in the moment, being happy in the now. Maybe that was enough. Maybe one day at a time was the way I needed to start living. I’d been planning things my entire life. It was time to stop planning and start living. The only problem was I wasn’t sure how to do that and I thought I’d have to have a plan to really start.

I’d lost Mud this morning, but I’d gained something in return. When the trail taketh she giveth back. I knew things were going to be okay. The trio I’d been sent gave me the reassurance that though Mud was gone I’d be just fine.

The movie ended and my new friends settled into their beds.

“Night guys. If I’m asleep when you’re leaving, wake me. I want to be sure I get to say goodbye.” I said.

“Sure thing.” They said and I shut off the last remaining light in the RV and went to sleep with no Mud in sight.

Rose – Meeting the trio of NOBO’s.
Bud – What life will be like without Mud.
Thorn – Saying goodbye to Mud.

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Night 24: What’s Next, Home or Here?

Thursday, July 29th, 2010

Monday 6-28-2010
0 Miles Hiked, 1,932.7 Miles to Springer

When I woke my ankle had nearly doubled in size and looked as though someone had inserted an orange underneath my skin. When I asked David if he could drive me to the doctor he said he was too busy shuttling other hikers around all day. He said he might be able to drive me the 25 miles to the family health center in Bethel the next day.

I was actually enjoying my down time lying in bed and watching the Price Is Right, it brought back memories of staying home from school sick when I was a little kid. I can remember faking sick just to get an extra day of watching Bob Barker call the next contestants down the isle. The only problem was that I was no longer a little kid, this was not my home, and Drew Carry is no Bob Barker. I wanted to get better and get out of Andover, out of Maine, and closer to home as soon as possible.

After seeing my ankle Mud agreed there was some urgency in getting me to a doctor as soon as possible. Since David wasn’t going to be of help in getting me to Bethel Mud said he would run to the general store and beg anyone he could find to drive me us to there. After a half hour Mud returned from the general store with a smile on his face.

“Good news, I ran into the guy who runs the High 5 Hostel at the general store and he said he could shuttle you and it’ll be a dollar a mile. He said he’ll be here to pick us up in about thirty to make sure you make it for the 1:00 P.M. slot you said they had open.” Mud said.

We let David and Eileen know we’d be leaving soon and waited on the porch. Both David and Eileen gave us an odd warning, “The people from the High 5 are nice, but they’re odd.” They said.

I didn’t care how odd they were. They were willing to take me to the doctors and that was all that mattered to me this morning.

A man with minor white facial hair and a beak of a nose and sunglasses pulled his black dented SUV into the drive and gave the horn a honk.

“How you doin’ Tiny Tim?” The man who sported a Jimmy Buffet shirt over his beer gut asked me before he even knew my name.

“Not too good.” I said as hopped toward the car using my trekking poles like a cane or crutches.

“I’m Caretaker.” He said as I climbed into the front seat.

“I’m going to reset the odometer so we both know how much you owe when we get back. I’ can’t keep track of it in my head. I’m no good with numbers since my head injury in Cosovo.” He said.

“Were you in the military?” I asked.

“Army, specs, 17 years. I busted my legs up in a parachuting drill. Broke my femur and never fully recovered.” He said. “Even with the way things ended, I’d recommend the military to any young person today.It was the best experience of my life.”

“I’ve thought about the Navy as a possibility, but never with any seriousness.” I said. “How long have you been doing this whole hostel thing?” I asked.

“We started out as trail angels, helping out people in your exact situation. Then it just kind of expanded into what it is today over the last couple years. We gotta pay the pills like everyone else.” He said.

“That’s pretty cool. Have you lived in Maine your whole life?” I asked.

“No. My dad was in the military and after killing one too many people he found religion big time. Became a Mormon and made our whole family Mormon. He moved us all out to the middle of nowhere fuckin’ Utah. It was actually a great place to grow up. Lots of space to run around. So what brings you guys to the trail?” He asked.

“Just finished college and I didn’t want to get a job or go to grad school right away, and this seemed like a pretty cool thing to do.” I said.

“Same.” Mud said.

“College degree, pretty expensive piece of paper. So you both got B.A.’s or B.S.’s?” He asked.

“B.A.’s.” We said.

“Yeah. You guys seem like silver spoon fed type of kids.” He said. “If you’ve got parents that support you like I figure you do, I say travel as much as you can.” He said. “Besides traveling get into scuba. No matter how worn out your body gets you can always scuba, your weightless in the water.”

“And if you ask my advice for a happy life; Scuba, travel, and fuck as much as possible. I’ll tell you, monogamy is for the fuckin’ Christians.” He said.

“So you’re not married I take it.” I said.

“Oh no.” He laughed.  “I’m married.”

The rest of the ride went quickly and we were in the middle of Bethel before long. Caretaker parked the car in the Bethel Family Health Center lot and as I got out of the passenger side he begged me to wait and let him get the wheel chair and wheel me into the lobby. I insisted I’d be fine hopping in. Once I got checked in with the nurse at the front desk Caretaker and Mud left to hit the local grocery store.

I waited a short time before one of the nurses called me into one of the back rooms and left me there to wait for Dr. Moses. She gasped a little when she first saw my ankle.

“How did you do this?” She asked.

I explained that my ankle had been bothering me for a few weeks. I told her I’d been rolling it on a daily basis and that I woke up two days earlier with chills and fever and explained what had happened the previous day on the way up Moody Mountain. I told her how I woke up this morning and it had doubled in size.

“It looks really bad. I’d say you’ve got a severe sprain or strain. You’ve done some pretty severe soft tissue damage by being on it day after day when it’s been bothering you. It’s a good sign that there’s no cuts or scraps around the ankle given how red and hot the area is, and from how you’ve described it I’d say it’s not broken. The breathing troubles and fever were probably just your body telling you something was wrong when you weren’t giving the ankle the time it needed to heal and you probably were working harder than you normal have too since you essentially had one dead leg.” She said.

“Can you do x-rays to make sure nothing is broken?” I asked.

“We can, but it’s really not necessary in my opinion.” She said.

“I think we better do x-rays because I know my mom will first ask if anything is broken and then ask what the x-ray showed, and if I tell her there was no x-ray she’ll make me wish I’d had one done.” I said.

I put on the lead vest and we got the x-rays. They were developed and nothing was broken. I thanked God I hadn’t done any permanent damage.

“How long do I need to stay off the trail? What’s the earliest I could try hiking again?” I asked.

“I wouldn’t recommend getting back on before a minimum of two weeks and I’d say three weeks to be safe.” She said.

My heart instantly sunk. I was hoping she’d say a few days. Three weeks was a death sentence, at least for this portion of my hike. Three weeks meant I might as well catch the next train home and heal there until I was able to hike again.

“You’re sure it might not be better in more like five days?” I asked.

“It might feel better in five days, but if you get back on it that soon you’ll likely injure it again and you could do permanent damage and be off the trail the rest of the year.” She said.

“Okay, so two to three weeks. What about ten days, you think maybe ten days and I might be good to go?” I asked.

“In ten days it might be decently healed, but you don’t want to mess around with this, especially with as much as you have left. I’d make sure you let it heal completely before you try and hike on it again and I’d like to see you in a week if you’re still in town.” She said.

“Okay, I’ll be careful and I probably won’t be here in a week.” I said.

I pivoted out of the exam room on the used crutches they gave me. I saw Caretaker and Mud waiting for me in the lobby. I gave them the bad news. In the five minutes since I’d been told of my recovery timeline by Dr. Moses I’d already started thinking of what my next move would be.

“I’m going to look at train and bus ticket prices and see if it makes more sense for me to stay here and heal or to head home and just take all off July of and come back at the beginning of August.” I said.

We picked up my prescription from the local CVS. I was given a weeks supply of an ant-inflammatory called indocin. I picked up some heal lifts for my boots and I bought some bandage wraps to keep my ankle bound.

As we drove back to Andover Caretaker gave me some news that changed all the plans of heading home that I’d made in my head.

“If you decide to try and stay here and heal I can make it as economical as possible. It’ll be ten bucks a night, and you can stay in the RV in my front yard and watch Netflix on the laptop we keep in there until you’re healed up. A young swimmer like you, you’ll be healed in no time. Breakfast is four dollars, lunch five, and dinner six, and my wife is an amazing cook. If you decide you still want to catch a train or bus home we can get you there tomorrow, but I just wanted you to know all your options.” He said.

Caretaker took us back to the Pine Ellis. I started crutching too quickly and trip up the porch stairs and fell to the ground. We settled our debts with David and grabbed out gear, I didn’t grab anything, but Mud grabbed mine and his gear and we loaded back into Caretakers car. When we got back to Caretaker’s house, or the High 5 Hostel Mud and I got settled into the RV and looked around the big orange conex shipping box that was filled with bunk beds and wired with satellite tv. The High 5 Hostel was by far the most interesting hostel I’d seen in all of Maine, and it seemed like a place I might be comfortable recovering.

After we finished exploring and getting settled down we checked out the iTunes on the RV’s mini laptop.  Caretaker came back to the RV to check on us and make sure everything was okay and he gave us the rundown.

“I close the main house at 9:00 P.M. I usually wake up around 7:00 A.M. If you have to pee just go behind the RV. If you have to do more than pee use the main house bathroom, but knock on the door and wait for someone to tell you to come in before you enter. I don’t like people just walking in. The RV is hooked up to water from the house, and if you need anything else just knock.” He said.

“Okay, sounds good, thanks for everything.” I said.

Mud and I relaxed and ate some of our stockpile from the grocery store in Bethel. Once we figured out how to set up Netflix we spent the rest of the night watching a Zach Galifinakis snowboard comedy, Out Cold. It was stupid, raunchy, and funny, and I didn’t have to think while watching it. It was nice to have something to laugh at and to take my mind off of what my next move would be. I could heal in Andover or head home. I wasn’t ready to leave the trail, but there was no guarantee I’d get better in Andover. I decided to sleep on it.

Rose – Meeting Caretaker

Bud – Deciding what the immediate future held.

Thorn – News of a 2-3 week recovery timeline.

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