Posts Tagged ‘hostel’

Night 37: Did I Piss The Bed?

Wednesday, October 27th, 2010

Sunday 7-11-2010
0 Miles Hiked, 1881.2 Miles To Springer

Before I went to bed last night I searched through the junk in the lower level of the barn to try and find something I could soak my ankle in. I found an old styrofoam cooler filled with dead bugs and cob webs. I rinsed it out and filled it with the ice I bought from the gas station across the street and soaked my foot in it. It was so cold it hurt to keep my ankle submerged. After about a half hour of soaking I pulled it out and my ankle no longer throbbed or looked as swollen, but it felt like a joint in my knee had been tightened or displaced and it now hurt to bend my knee. I need to catch a break.

While I iced my foot I worked on a surprise that I was going to send to Sarah. A bunch of pictures that I had written letters on the back of. The letters and pictures I had written and would be sending were heavy though and I had no idea how many stamps to put on the envelop and the post office was closed the next day so I knew I wouldn’t be able to ask them. I figured I’d poll a few people in town the next morning.

When I finally went up into the dark attic to go to bed I sat down on my mattress and one sheet barrier and spread my sleeping bag across the bed. I had filled a zip lock bag with ice and wrapped it around my knee with the ace bandage I had from my ankle. I stared up at the barn ceiling and at the wall at the other end and watched as the moonlight crept through the spaces between the boards that made up the walls. As I gazed at the rays of moonlight I wondered where my life was headed and was unsure, and I fell asleep thinking about who I was supposed to be in the post college adult world I was entering.

I woke up in the middle of the night and was soaking wet from my waste down.

“Shit, I pissed myself in a hostel bed. I’m fucking 23 years old, how am I pissing myself.” I thought.

I reached my hand down, touched the wet sheet beneath me, brought my hand to my face and smelled it. (Please no judgment, I don’t know why I would have wanted to smell my piss covered hand when I assumed I had wet the bed but I felt it was the only way to know for sure.)

I qiuckly realized I had not pissed the bed, but had in fact rolled over onto the ice filled ziplock bag on my knee, which had melted and popped. The melted ice left both my legs, and the sheet covering the mattress soaked.

I got my headlamp on to see just how wet the mattress had become and I saw a big orange yellow stain on the white sheet.

“Had I actually pissed the bed?” I thought again. “It didn’t smell like urine?”

I got completely out of the bed and took my sleeping bag off the sheet, and lifted up the sheet exposing the bare mattress and what was on it. I had not pissed the bed. The mattress was in fact covered in dark yellow, orange, red, and brown stains and the water from my ice pack mixing with the mattress had brought all those stains to the surface and allowed them to be absorbed by the white sheet.

“Ghhh….uggh.” My gag reflex activated as I thought about the fact that I had touched that with my hands and brought it to my face.

I spread my sleeping bag back over the mattress and laid on top of it for the remainder of the night. I had no intention of sleeping on those sheets now that they were covered in who knows what. I imagined what those stains could have been caused from a variety of gross things: period blood, sex juices, urine, poop, throw up, dirt, and sweat. I was ready to be out of this barn attic with the odd racist man who was currently my only companion.

I woke up early that morning wanting to get packed up, and get out of the barn before the racist man or the European girl was up to see my mattress was wet and that my white bed sheet was stained with what appeared to be blood, urine, and poop juices. I figured even if I told the truth it would be assumed I had wet the bed and I didn’t need my trail name to be changed for a false assumption two people I barely knew might make. I grabbed my sheet off the bed, balled it up and shoved it at the bottom of the hamper of used sheets and towels. I was out of the hostel by 8:00 A.M. never to return.

I knew I wouldn’t be hiking today with my semi bum ankle and now bum knee. I walked around town until I got to a park and then set my sleeping pad up on a park bench and laid down to take a Sunday morning nap. I felt like a hobo, and I loved it. I woke up from my nap around noon as the park I had set up shop in was hosting the towns bimonthly town yard sale/ flea market. I decided to head to the gas station to get some more stamps and to ask some people how many stamps my letter would need.

“I think five should get the job done for sure.” The forty something woman with a bad red hair dye job said.

“Thanks.” I said and I decided to walk back toward the fast food section of town. On the way to McDonalds I stopped at the post office and dropped my letter to Sarah in the mailbox.

At McDonalds I ordered a Big Mac combo meal, a McDouble, and a hot fudge sundae. I ate my food slowly while I charged my phone and scoped out the restaurant for a potential hitch to the White Birches Campground, another hostel in town that I had heard was cheaper and nicer than The Barn, but a good three miles from where I was.

During my time scoping out potential rides I watched a little boy take a hot fudge sundae off the counter from an old man. The little boy thought it was the one his mom had bought him, which I had already seen his mom grab off the counter. The old man was so shocked he didn’t know what to say, and just watched as the little boy walked away with it. I had just seen the old man set it down on the counter so he could grab some napkins before the boy took it, I thought about intervening but figured this might be the most entertaining thing that would happen to me today and I would let things get a little further along before I said something. The boys mother eventually told the boy she already had his and he came back to give the old man the one he had taken.

By the time I had finished my high calorie feast most of the clientele that was there when I had arrived had left. The boy who stole the hot fudge sundae and his mom were still there. I walked up to his mom.

“Are you heading down the road that way, toward the White Birches Campground?’ I asked.

“Yeah, we are, do you need a ride?” The young-beautiful-probably-had-her-kid-in-high-school-aged-mother asked.

“Yeah, I would really appreciate that.” I said.

“I’d love to help you out.” She said.

I followed the young mother and her son to their white SUV. They moved a bunch of cardboard boxes out of the backseat to make room for my pack. She had explained they were moving into a new house because she and her husband had just divorced. I felt it was a bit of an over share but didn’t really care. She dropped me off at the White Birches and I got out, thanked her and walked toward the front office door.

I checked in with the man who owned the campground and lived in the barn buildings first floor with his wife and daughter, Ashely. I paid for a bunk space in the upper level of the barn area which was much nicer than the barn attic area at The Barn. I also paid for a towel to use when showering.

I walked up the outside stairs to the attic area of the barn and opened the screen door. Inside I was shocked to see Abraham and Bishop.

“What are you guys doing here? I was laid up for 11 days in Andover with a sprained ankle, what’s your excuse?” I asked.

“We’ve been watching the World Cup games, been here since the 6th.” Bishop said.

“Yeah, plus I got sick and was throwing up for a few days.” Abraham said.

They both answered me in a somewhat trance like state. They were captivated by the television as the championship game of the World Cup between Spain and the Netherlands had just started.

I watched the first half with them and dozed off towards the end of the half. At halftime I woke up and went outside to the pool that sat near the trailer park section of the campground. I soaked my foot and there was a radio playing nearby. I soaked up the rays shirtless and listened to the radio. It brought back memories of life guarding at hot pools all summer long during my teenage years.  I hung out by the pool for more than an hour and headed back figuring it would be close to over when I returned.

When I walked through the screen door I saw that the score remained 0-0. The game ended in overtime on penalty kicks around 5:00 P.M.  Just as the game ended and Spain claimed the title of World champions, the rain started pouring and pounded hard against the tin roof of the old barn.

While the rain pounded Abraham and Bishop packed up there things and got ready to meet the old man who lived in the trailer park who would be shuttling them back to the trail. I was glad it wasn’t me that was heading back to hiking in the rain.

The rain eventually cleared and I headed back to the pool to swim and soak my ankle more. No one else was at the pool so I took my shorts off and swam around in my black mesh boxer brief underwear. It felt so good to be swimming and my ankle was pain free swimming around and my knee felt great too. I swam around by myself until 8:15 P.M. and then headed back to the barn. On the way back I called my family. Each person I talked to and told my ankle was acting up told me they thought it was time for me to come home, time to give myself a break, someone even suggested that maybe it just wasn’t mean to happen for me this year. I was furious.

“I’ll be back when I have to come off for my friends weddings like I always planned.” I told them agitated.

After talking to my family and getting aggravated at what I viewed as their lack of support and faith in me I took a 25 cent shower in the first coin operated shower I’d ever used.  I thought a quarter for five minutes of hot water was perfectly reasonable since I’d paid five dollars for a shower at other hostels.

Once I was out of the shower I put the underwear and shorts I had swum in in the dryer and I headed back upstairs to warm up a can of soup someone had left behind in the hiker box.

While my clothes dried I wore my Danskin short shorts and walked around the trailer park while I called and talked to Sarah.

“I bought some women’s short shorts from Walmart, I’ll send you a picture of them.” I said.

“Oh my gosh you weren’t big enough to wear the shorts from the women’s section so you had to get them from the girls section, didn’t you?” She asked after receiving the picture.

“Very funny.” I said. ” But I did make the old lady who worked in the women’s clothing section wait outside the changing room and tell me how I looked in the three different colors I tried on.” I said.

“The thing is I don’t doubt that you did that.” She said.

We both laughed.

We talked about her day, her trip back from my aunts house, and missing each other. Missing each other seemed to be the big topic of every conversation and it seemed it didn’t matter how much closer I got to seeing her again, to getting back home because she knew I’d be going back and leaving her again.

The mosquitoes started biting and I was tired, from what I don’t know, I hadn’t done anything all day, I think my body was just spent. I ended the conversation and headed back inside the barn. Back inside I sat in front of the television watching Myth Busters and I began rubbing some Thermosil (Ben Gay equivalent) that I found in the hiker box all over my ankle, knee, and thighs. The thighs were a mistake, a huge mistake, they burned all night.

Sarah texted me pictures of dresses asking me which one she should wear to our friends weddings coming up soon. Sarah could have worn a trash bag and put every woman in the room to shame and I told her she’d look beautiful in whichever one she chose, but she wanted more participation than that on my part. I told her the one she liked best looked great, which she jokingly said upset her because that one was out of stock, and then I climbed onto the bottom bunk, which was not stained with anything and I fell asleep, looking forward to getting to dance with her in whatever she wore.

Rose – Swimming in the pool, talking with Sarah.

Bud – Slack packing/Freedom Hiking the next section.

Thorn - My family telling me to come home.

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Night 29: An Old Goat Returns

Tuesday, August 3rd, 2010

The incredible nachos Nightcrawler made for us to have with our delicious moose chili.

The incredible nachos Nightcrawler made for us to have with our delicious moose chili.

Saturday 7-3-2010
O Miles Hiked, 1932.7 Miles To Springer

The port a potty door banged close behind me as I exited after my morning poop. It had only been two days since it’s delivery and it was already getting gross. Hundreds of beetles and flies crawled all over the waste floating in blue water. I could feel them land on me while I sat.

When I looked up after I exited Caretaker was standing in front of me.

“Want to go hiker cruising?” He asked.

“Sure. What’s hiker cruising?” I asked.

“Just driving through town and seeing if any hikers need a ride to the trail or a place to stay. If you want I can drop you off at the general store while I cruise around.” He said.

“Sounds good.” I said.

We drove around town and stopped at the post office to see if any thru hiker packages addressed to the hostel had arrived.

Caretaker drove me to the house of an old man in town he likes to check in on and visit with. Our visit was short lived. The old man told us he hadn’t taken his morning dump and would have to ask us to leave so he could take care of business.

I bought a box of powdered doughnuts at the general store to have for breakfast. When we returned to the house Caretaker invited me in to watch the Germany and Argentina World Cup match. I brought my doughnuts and shared them with him. We watched the game and talked until Monkey and Giggles called saying they needed to be picked up from the trail so they could check on the package they were expecting at the post office.

When Caretaker returned with Giggles and Monkey they didn’t stay long.

“Don’t walk too fast.” I said as they walked down the road that lead to town. “Hopefully I’ll catch up to you eventually.”

“I’m sure you will, just make sure your ankle is all the way better before you get back on.” Giggles said.

I was alone again, but I wasn’t lonely for long as has become typical at the hostel. Caretaker brought in a pair of brothers named Toofpick and Thrillbilly. Toofpick had brown eyes, shaggy brown hair, caterpillar eyebrows that rivaled mine, and a thick reddish brown beard. He got his name because he always had a tooth pick in his mouth but wanted to be original so opted for Toofpick over Toothpick. His brother, Thrillbilly, got his name cause he’s kind of a hillbilly and he likes adventurous outdoor things, he was on the lumberjack team at his college which I didn’t even know they had at colleges . They were both from Virginia too, and were also both heading south, but moving at a much faster pace than I was.

“So you two are really brothers? You look nothing alike.” Caretaker asked.

“Yep.” They said.

“Well which one of you looks more like the mail man?” He asked. They both laughed.

The brothers loaded their gear into the RV and took their shirts off to throw in with the load of laundry they were doing.

On each of their backs was a tattoo about the size if my head. The tattoo was done in black ink and it was of their family crest.

“Did you guys get your tattoos together?” I asked.

“Yeah, when we turned 18. Our dad and his brothers have them too. Every man in our family gets it when he turns 18.” Toofpick said.

“That’s a cool family tradition, sounds a little painful, but cool.” I said.

Our conversation was interrupted by a barking dog and it wasn’t Caretaker and Nightcrawler’s Besenji mut dog. I walked out of the RV to check it out. My ankle was healed enough that I was able to walk without much pain so I was no longer using the crutches.

As I got to the entrance of the big orange box I saw two familiar faces. It was Mt. Goat and Lou, his small Basenji dog. I hadn’t seen them since the second day of the 100 mile wilderness and hadn’t seen any of the group he was with either. A big part of me had assumed he, JANASTY and AC Farm had called it quits, but here he stood right in front of me.

“Hey, how are you doing? Where’s the rest of the gang?” I asked.

“JANASTY realized she wasn’t prepared for this and wasn’t in any condition to be doing this. She dropped out 30 miles in when we stopped at The White House Landing for the one pound burger. She was a nice girl and she at least had the grace to come off, which was a relief because it meant we wouldn’t have to carry her ass through the 100 mile wilderness and make sure she got out alive.” He said.

“What about AC Farm?” I asked.

“You mean Farm-A-Sea?” He asked.

“Is that what his name was?” I asked.

“Yeah, it’s Farm-A-Sea. Not sure how that mix up happened but a couple people thought his name was AC Farm. He’s a little bit behind me. I wouldn’t be surprised if he showed up here today or tomorrow.” He said.

“That’s great that he’s still on the trail.” I said.

“Yeah he’s a really cool kid.” Mt. Goat said.

Toofpick overheard us talking and asked, “Is he the one that quit his job to do the trail?”

“Yeah. He quit his job as a janitor at the high school he went to. He graduated and then he was janitor there for two years after that and decided it wasn’t for him.” Mt. Goat said.

I hung out around the RV while Mt. Goat, Toofpick, and Thrillbilly came and went doing their laundry and taking showers one by one. We spent the afternoon listening to Steve Earle and Old Crow Medicine Show counting down the minutes til Nightcrawler would be done with dinner.

Caretaker hung a dinner bell in the conex that afternoon and when the four of us heard it sound we bolted from the RV, and in my case I hobbled.

The wait was well worth it. Nightcrawler made us moose chili that was spicy as hell and equally tasty. With the chili she brought out a huge plate of nachos covered in cheese, diced jalepano peppers grown in her garden, sliced raw onions, black olives, all garnished with freshly picked cilantro.

The chili and nachos were delicious, but so spicy that all four us were sweating bullets all meal and for the thirty minutes afterward.

After dinner I was so full of moose meat, beans, and nachos, I felt like I would projectile vomit if I moved too fast as I walked from Bob to the RV.

I sat on the empty cooler that sat outside of the RV and I called Sarah.

Right as I hung up the phone I saw Nightcrawler walking toward the RV with a tray full of food. I stood up to see what was on the tray, but before I could figure it out she told me.

“I made everyone some Hillbilly Bon Bons. They’re made with Ritz crackers that I dipped in chocolate and then coated with peanut butter. I put a scoop of vanilla ice cream in the middle and made little sandwiches out of them.” She said.

“They look amazing.” Thrillbilly said.

They tasted amazing too.

The Hillbilly Bon Bons cooled all of us down and cured the sweats the chili had induced.

Lou Dog, Mt. Goat, Thrillbilly, Toofpick, and I settled into the RV and watched Zombieland. The movie was surprisingly funny and Woody Harrleson was hilarious.

There was a cameo by Bill Murray that made me realize how much Caretaker reminded me of Bill Murry. He was crazy, wacky, and inappropriately funny, but he was also a military killing machine. I decided he was a combo of Bill Murry and Bruce Willis with maybe a dash of Randy Quaid.

When the movie ended we could see some fireworks being set off down the street by a group of kids as their parents watched. They weren’t anything special, but they were a reminder that even far away from home and civilization it was Fourth of July weekend, and even though we were in Maine, we were still in America and even the backwoods people here were proud of that fact.

Rose- Hillbilly Bon Bons
Bud- Fourth of July
Thorn- Sleeping in RV with poor air circulation with three guys who just ate chili.

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Night 23: Could The End Be In Andover?

Tuesday, July 27th, 2010

Sunday 6-27-2010
8.7 Miles Hiked, 1,932.7 Miles to Springer

Advil is a miracle drug. The chills, fever, and cold sweat that tormented me all night had faded within an hour of gulping down my Advil with a Nalgene full of electrolyte infused water. The only thing bothering me now was minor nausea, but nothing that was going to keep me from hiking, from moving forward, from getting out of this God awful place called Maine. It was time to get a state crossed off my list and with forty miles left I was chomping at the bit to be done with Maine.

One of the weekend campers walked up to me with a bag of half eaten Mountain House freeze dried eggs. He handed the bag towards me and said, “Here, you need this more than I do.”

“Thanks.” I said as I took the bag from his hand and looked inside. It was more soup than eggs. Gross looking chunks of egg and bacon bits floated in the soup of now cold water. “I’ve thrown up eggs and bacon that looked better than this.” I thought.

I always appreciate extra food, but this was disgusting. The guy stood next to me and said, “Come on, try them, they’re delicious.”

I did not want to try them, but I also didn’t want to be rude.

I took a bite and said. “Mmmm,” While I sported a fake smile that had to make me look somewhat demented. He seemed satisfied with my feigned satisfaction and walked away. I dumped the bag old, cold, soupy eggs into the bush next to me and packed the empty bag away in my trash bag.

I think people think just because we’re thru hikers we’ll eat anything. We’re still people though, and while any food is a nice gesture don’t give us bags of soupy vomity looking eggs and bacon bits. Give us food that is good, food that is fresh, food that you’d be proud to serve in your own home. Thru hikers are not trash cans or garbage disposals, no matter how much we may smell and look like either of those things. Please remember, we are people too.

Before we left the weekend camper filled campsite I stopped to fill up my Nalgene at the spring. My Steripen wasn’t working for the umpteenth time and I was fed up especially since I didn’t feel well. The water dripped down a large hanging moss pad into my Nalgene. It was ice cold, but flowing over moss for the thirty feet from where the spring started to the lip of my water bottle gave the water a green tint that wasn’t helping my nausea.

With my camel pak and nalgenes filled Mud and I headed out for the day.

“I’m really not feeling well, so don’t get too far ahead of me in case I pass out or something.” I said to Mud as we left.

“Yeah, no problem, we’ll stick together today.” He said.

The trail took us along the remainder of the Bemis Mountain range to start the day and then dropped us down slightly before we had to climb Old Blue Mountain. It was a decent climb, and had no view at the top to reward us for our efforts. The 2,200 foot downhill drop from Old Blue to South Arm road destroyed my left ankle. It felt like it was only supported by a string by the time we reached the black pavement.

South Arm road was not the busy, well traveled road we’d hoped. It took us nearly an hour of hitching before an old couple towing a trailer picked us up. We were lucky to have hit the road on the end of a weekend when tourists from the lake further down the road were heading home otherwise I can’t imagine we would have been able to hitch out and it would have been a nine mile walk into town for resupply.

The older couple put us in the backseat of their pick up and stowed our things away in their trailer. They dropped us off just across the street from the general store. Mud and I went to the general and restocked, buying more than we probably needed as seems to happen when we hit a resupply on empty stomachs, it’s like the say, “Don’t go grocery shopping on an empty stomach.”

Mud and I ate lunch at the general store after we resupplied and we each indulged in some ice cream, which we both needed.

After leaving the general store we headed toward the Pine Ellis Hostel. Mud walked far ahead of me as I hobbled at a turtle’s pace down the side walk. An old man mowing his lawn spotted me and shut the mower off.

“You better take a couple days off in town and get all healed up.” He said.

“Yeah, pretty beat up.” I said, not intending on taking this man’s advice or slowing down in my mission to get out of Maine.

The Pine Ellis was run by a man named David and his mother in-law Eileen. David looks like a Native American except in place of slicked back long flowing black locks David has bangs combed up in the front, and a long flowing mullet in the back. He was wearing skin tight jeans and a t-shirt when he shook my hand as I walked into the house. Around his neck hung a huge turquoise necklace, which was complimented by some turquoise bracelets and a matching ring.

“We’re just looking to get a shower, do some laundry, and get back on the before the sun goes down.” I said to David.

“Okay, that will be 21 combined, or 10.50 each. The shuttle back to the trail is 12, a shower is 3 each, and wash and dry are 1.50 each.” David said.

“Sounds good.” I said.

I took the first shower and waited in the medical scrubs David gave me to wear while my clothes were in the washer. If I’d been on Grey’s Anatomy I would have been McNasty, the gross doctor who never showers, has dirt under his finger nails, and smells constantly like a jock strap.

The shower at the Pine Ellis was the first decent water pressure I’d felt all trip, and it was more than welcomed. I hobbled around the front yard making phone calls and checking in with family and friends who I hadn’t talked to in too long.

“How’s it going?” My brother Josh asked.

“It’s good, my ankle has just been giving me a lot of trouble lately.” I said

“Don’t push it to the point where you really hurt yourself. If you need to take a few days off, take a few days off and get better.” Josh said.

“I’ll be fine, I just need to get out of Maine and then I’ll rest. Plus I’d feel bad making Mud stop and pay for a hostel when he doesn’t need or want to stop.” I said.

“Just be smart about it, you still have a long way to go and you’re going to need your ankles.” He said.

“Okay, okay. I’ll be smart, I have to go. Love you.” I said

“Love you too J, keep it up.” He said.

Walking in circles around the yard making phone call after phone call my ankle began to hurt worse and worse.

After nearly two hours our clothes had finished drying in the what I can’t imagine was newer than 1975 era dryer. I put on the dryer warm clothes which immediately made me sweat. I rolled up my extra pants and shirts up, filled my camel pak and Nalegenes and reloaded my pack. I put on my ankle braces and socks and put an extra sock on my bad ankle to give it some extra support in my boot. With everything I had on my feet I had to force them into the boot. It hurt just to put my left ankle into the boot, but it had been hurting the last three weeks, so this seemed normal.

“It’s hurt before, this isn’t any different, don’t be a baby about this, get your ass up and out of this seat, get your pack on, and get yourself ready to hike, because you’re hiking, you’re getting out of Maine, you’re moving on.” I thought.

I hobbled toward David’s mini van and dropped my pack in the backseat. The seats were covered in sheets and plastic drop clothes to keep the stink of thru hikers out of the upholstery. Any normal person who saw the way the entire car was draped with sheets and plastic drop cloths would assume David was a serial killer and this was his murder mini van, you know, the type of mini van murderers lure you into and then slit your throat and dismember you in. Think Silence of The Lambs, the scene where Buffalo Bill pretends to be an old man with a broken arm needing help loading something into his van. It was that type of set up, so of course I got right into the passenger seat ready to go.

David took us to the general store for one last resupply. I bought some batteries and ordered a BLT and a Yoohoo. I got back into the passenger seat and saw that David had bought four twenty ounce malt liquor beverages while I had been battery, sandwich and chocolate milk shopping. I scarfed down my BLT and chugged my Yoohoo knowing there were only 12 miles of driving to go before I had to be hiking again. David drank his malt liquor beverages and had one and a half done by the time we hit the trailhead at South Arm.

I’d made a point throughout my life up to this point to never get into a car with someone who had been drinking, which he had, by my count four beers before we left, and I would not be caught dead in a vehicle with someone who was literally drinking and driving, and now I was doing both these things I had vowed not to do and was paying the person doing both things to drive me.

Maine is an odd odd place, and any and all rules and regulations that apply to the rest of the civilized world do not apply to citizens of this state, this fact should be kept in mind in regards to everything and every character I write about. Maine is her own person, and essentially her own country, and her people live by their own rules.

David parked the car at the trail head and popped the mini van trunk. Mud and I grabbed our packs, said thank you, and started walking towards the trail.

“Wait a second.” David said as he untwisted a plastic bag with two apples in it.

He handed us the apples and we gladly took the fruit as we headed into the woods. I took bite after bite, savoring the sweet juicy red apple.

“Come on, get over this, it’s not that bad, the pain is just in your head.” I thought.

My ankle throbbed and ached with each step. I had succeeded in convincing myself it was no different than any of the previous times it hurt, and was determined to keep moving and that was what I did. My body was sure as hell trying to send me a message, but I wasn’t listening.

“Mud, I need to stop and take a break. My feet and legs feel like they’re on fire, I think the extra layer of socks and the warm clothes from the dryer are making me too hot.” I said. I got my extra socks off and zipped off the bottom half of my convertible pants. A cool breeze hit the sweat on my face, body, and exposed legs and I got the chills. I was shaking and my teeth were chattering. It was still at least 70 degrees outside even with the sun setting. Something was wrong, my body was trying to tell me to stop. I wasn’t listening.

“Can you stay really close, something doesn’t seem right and I don’t want to be alone, just don’t get too far ahead okay.” I said

“Yeah, we’ll stay together the rest of the hike, we don’t have much to go to the shelter, only about four miles.” He said.

Four miles all the sudden sounded like an impossible distance. I should have stopped right there and told Mud I needed to go back, but I was stubborn, I was stupid, I was willing to put getting an extra four miles ahead of my own life. According to the rules of natural selection I didn’t deserve to make it out of this situation alive.

I got my pack back on and told Mud I was ready to keep going.

We made it another half mile up Moody Mountain and I felt like I was burning up even worse. My head was throbbing, my heart started to hurt, and it had all the sudden become hard for me to get a full breath in. My whole body had begun to stress and overcompensate for my one bad ankle.

I unclipped my pack and dropped it on the ground. I had never felt like this in my entire life. I was no longer in control of my body, my body was in control, and it wasn’t going to let me move another inch. I took my inhaler for the second time on this short evening hike. I hadn’t needed my inhaler at any point in the previous 240 miles, this wasn’t normal, this wasn’t right.

The inhaler wasn’t helping, I still couldn’t get a full breath in, I still felt like I was burning up, and I still had the chills and couldn’t stop shaking. I was scared. I didn’t want to be a statistic, tragic story, someone who didn’t take the warning signs their body had given. I didn’t want to die over some stupid thru hike on a trail in the middle of nowhere Maine. I wanted to get off the trail and I wanted to live.

“Mud I don’t think I can make it to the shelter, maybe we can just get down to the stream and camp there and then tomorrow we can hike the six miles to the road and I can get to a doctor then.” I said.

I felt like I was letting Mud down having to stop, but my body wasn’t going to make it much further if any further at all.

“I’m just burning up and my ankle is killing me and I’m having trouble breathing and it’s only getting worse.” I said. “Will you feel my forehead?” I asked.

Mud touched my forehead and then touched his.

“You’re burning up. This is crazy. I think we should just turn around and hike back to the road where we started and get David to pick us he.” He said

“Are you sure, I hate to make you go back cause we’ll have to rehike what we’ve already done.” I said.

“Yeah it’s fine, I know how awful it is to hike when you’re sick or feeling like crap, it’s totally fine.” He said. “Is that what you want to do?” He asked.

“If you’re okay with that, I just feel really bad making you backtrack.” I said.

“It’s fine, I’ve been there I know how bad hiking is when you’re sick. Have you felt like this all day?” Mud asked.

“Not all day, but since we started hiking tonight. I’m sorry man. I’m going to try and get a signal and call David back and see if he can come get us at the road.” I said, and as I said a wave of relief flushed over my body, knowing that I was heading back to safety and if something bad was going to happen to me it was going to happen with more than Mud there to save me.

Eileen from Pine Ellis answered the phone.

“Hello, this is Eileen.” She said.

“Hi, this is Justin or Triple P., we just left Pine Ellis about an hour and a half ago. We got about a half mile up Moody Mountain and I started having trouble breathing and my fever came back and my ankle is really bothering me. I need someone to pick me up, I think something’s really wrong.” The phone died before she could respond and my screen said I had no service.

Mud pulled out his phone and he had one bar. David answered this time.

“What time should we tell him we’ll meet him at the road?” Mud asked.

“We’ve been hiking uphill for an hour and a half, so tell him we’ll be down there in an hour fifteen.” I said.

“He said he’ll meet us at the road in an hour fifteen and will stay there an extra fifteen until 8:15 P.M. in case it takes longer.” Mud said.

Knowing someone was coming and would be waiting for me made me feel a little safe for the first time all evening. I was still scared and I wanted to be home, I wanted to be safe, I wanted my old life back. I promised myself if I got to the road and made it out of this that I’d never let my stubborn mindset overrule the warning signs my body was sending. I would never again put myself in a situation where I put the trail ahead of myself, ahead of my family, ahead of anyone and everyone who cares about me.

Mud offered to take some of the weight from my pack and put it in his as he saw me hobble the first few steps. I couldn’t let him do that, I’d already felt too bad asking him to turn back. I reminded Mud where my epipen was and explained how to use it again.

“If I pass out or my airways start to close it will buy me about thirty minutes to get to help. If I tell you to get it and use it, use it right away and if I can’t tell you, use it right away.” I said.

We scurried down the mountain and adrenaline must have taken over because the pain in my ankle became a non factor. I moved as fast as I could essentially dragging my bad ankle down the mountain and over ever boulder, root, and rock. I had to stop every fifteen minutes to cool down and catch my breath, and then I’d be good for another fifteen.

We reached the stream before South Arm road at 8:07 P.M. I crossed it, walked right up to the road, dropped to the ground, unclipped my pack and leaned back. Leaning back so quickly made me feel light headed.  I grabbed my head and I was burning up even worse. I unlaced my boots and ripped my socks off. I squeezed my camel pak into my hand and dripped the water over my head. I leaned my body back over my pack again and laid there gasping for air and glad to be safer than I was.

When I heard David’s car coming down the beat up back country road  I really felt like things were going to be okay.

“Thank you.” I said as he stepped from his car. My eyes were welling with tears. “I was really scared I was going to die up there. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been able to get us. You saved me.” I said.

“No problem man, I’m glad I could help.” David said.

Mud grabbed my pack and loaded it into the back of the van. I climbed in shotgun and just stared out the window.

“When we get you back we’ll get you some tea and you can just rest up.” David said. “You probably just pushed your body to hard man, you just need to rest up and you’ll feel way better.” He said.

“Thanks.” I said.

When we arrived at the house these other guys staying there must have heard I was in bad shape cause they came out to the car and grabbed my pack and took it upstairs to my room. I hadn’t noticed how bad my ankle was or how bad it hurt until I got out of the van. I couldn’t put any weight on it.

I hopped on one foot through the entry way and kitchen to the bottom of the stairs. I put my butt on the bottom step and scooted up one step at a time and then crawled across the bedroom floor to a bed and pulled myself up and just collapsed there.

I called my mom and Sarah not wanting either of them to hear what had happened from Mud’s Mom or Mary Mud’s girlfriend. Both conversations went almost the same.

“I had a scary episode in the second half of hiking today. My fever came back, I started shaking again, and I had trouble breathing. We got about halfway up Moody Mountain and I couldn’t go any further so we had to call for help. I’m back at the hostel we were at earlier today and I’m going to go to a doctor tomorrow. I’m really exhausted so I can’t talk about it tonight, but I’m going to be okay and I’ll call you tomorrow. I love you.” I said.

“Okay, I love you, hang in there. I’m just glad you’re okay” They both replied something along those lines.

“Here’s the tea. I put some honey in it.” He said just as I was putting my phone away.

“Thank you so much.” I said as he walked out of the room.

When he left the room I took three Advil, scarfed a Snickers, sipped the rest of the tea, and passed out still wearing my hiking clothes.

I woke up about two hours later when Mud walked in the room. I didn’t feel hot anymore but my ankle hurt like hell. I decided to take another shower to get all the sweat from my fever washed off before I went to the bed for the night. I scooted down the stairs one step at a time and hopped toward the bathroom. I lowered myself into the tub of the dimly lit bathroom and sat down with my knees pulled toward my body. I turned the shower on and let the hot water run over me as I held my face in my hands.  I sat in that position for about fifteen minutes and cried off and on.

Today the trail defeated me in ways I never imagined. It got in my head. It was in charge and it was calling the shots. I felt like a victim today, and I was a victim of my own stupidity. After my fifteen minute pity party was over I vowed I would never be a victim on this trail again. I dried off after the shower and put my sweaty underwear back on but left the rest of my sweaty damp clothes off. I scooted back up the stairs, crawled across the dark bedroom floor, and pulled myself up onto my bed.

“Mud, you awake?” I asked.

“Yeah, I’m up.” He said.

“I’m really sorry about today. I feel like an idiot. I should have told you before we left that I didn’t think I could hike. I just thought it was all in my head and I didn’t want to be a baby about it. I just want to say thanks for making me realize I needed to go back and get help. If you hadn’t suggested it I know I would have kept pushing it, so thanks.” I said.

“It’s okay, I understand.” Mud said.

I fell asleep fully believing that someone up above had my back. I said an extra prayer and said thank you to every dead relative I have for watching over me. It might sound crazy, but I don’t think I’d have made it off that mountain without some outside assistance. I felt lucky to be alive and lucky to be able to feel the pain in my ankle. I was still breathing and for today that was enough.

Rose – Hearing David’s car come to the rescue.

Bud – Seeing a doctor.

Thorn – Thinking I was going to die.

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