Posts Tagged ‘fish’

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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