Posts Tagged ‘Skinny dipping’

Night 34: Speck Pond & Will

Sunday, October 10th, 2010

Speck Pond, highest body of water in Maine.

Speck Pond, the highest body of water in all of Maine at 3,500 feet.

Thursday 7-8-2010
6.9Miles Hiked, 1907.7 Miles To Springer

I left Bladpate lean-to and The Beer Poet behind at 6:35 A.M. I was looking to get a big day in when I set out this morning. Old Speck Mountain had different plans in store for my sore ankle than the dreams I woke to. I made it easily the first 2.3 miles to Maine 26 and I was in good spirits even though I still wished I had someone to hike with.

When I reached Maine 26 Old Speck Mountain came into view. The entire top of portion of the mountain was covered in fog. I couldn’t see how high it rose but I knew one thing for sure and that was that I’d be hiking straight up, because I was still in Maine, the land of no switch backs. Before I started the hike I stopped in the parking lot at the base of the mountain to eat some breakfast bars and peanut and then I started up.

As I started up the mountain my quads, knees, and ankles were not willing and were becoming unable to keep hiking. I had to stop to rest every fifteen minutes just to catch my breath and regain some of my energy. As I went further and further up I ran into a father and son from Alabama who were section hiking the entire AT.

“The peak of Old Speck is about 0.3 miles off trail but there is a fire tower you can climb up and the views are definitely worth the extra hiking.” The father said.

I decided I’d take the excursion and do lunch atop the tower. I didn’t want to take my pack the whole 0.3 miles so I left it 0.1 miles in and took out my food sacs and water. When I reached the tower it was tall and the only way up was a completely vertical ladder. I threw my food sack around my shoulder and moved up all 36 rungs one step and one hand grip at a time. I was worried the whole way up that my sweating hands would lose grip or my ankle would give out right as I placed it. Neither of those things happened and I enjoyed my lunch with a spectacular view of the surrounding mountains partially covered by the clouds.

The climb down was even scarier, but I just took my time and didn’t look down and I was fine.

Old Speck Trail had sufficiently kicked my ass and I believed I may have re-injured my ankle as I started to get a limp in my step as I hiked. I arrived at Speck Pond Shelter around 12:30 P.M. and decided with the limp in my step and the burn in my quads that I was done today and that there was no way I was going to make it down Mahoosic Arm or through Mahoosic Notch in the condition I was in.

The campsites’ caretaker wasn’t in and I was the only one around so I walked to the pond and soaked my feet in the cool water. I decided since I was the only one around and since it was such a hot day that I was going to go for a naked swim. The water felt soothing and it was freeing to be swimming through the highest body of water in the entire state of Maine. I began to miss my old life as a swimmer and began to wish I could go back, I began to wish I was the swimming obsessed person I had gone on this trip to get away from.

After lounging on a rock while dangling my bad ankle in the water I went back to the shelter and pulled out my sleeping bag. I decided I had earned a nap. I slept until around 3:30 P.M. when three NOBO’s stopped in the shelter for a snack break. We talked briefly. From our conversation I had gathered that all but one of them had stopped enjoying the hike.

When they left, I was glad to see them go, everything they had to say about the Whites in New Hampshire and the remainder of southern Maine had me feeling down and nervous about what was to come.

Not too long after they left the campsites’ caretaker arrived. I walked up to his tent to find out if I’d be able to do some work for stay since this campsite was run by the Appalachian Mountain Club and had an eight dollar fee to stay the night.

As I approached the tent I saw that he was young, about my age, perhaps younger, my height, and he had red hair and blue eyes.

“Hey, how’s it going? I asked as I stood outside his tent.

“Hey, good, I’m Will, this is my first day working this site. I took a side path up here so it wasn’t as bad with my 80 pound pack and axe.” He said.

“Why is your pack 80 pounds?” I asked.

“I bring my food up for the week I’m up here, and I bring food I like, not just the lightest stuff.” He said.

I noticed his shorts were black and said Army on the right thigh.

“Were you in the Army? I asked.

“Yeah, I signed up when I was seventeen right after high school.” He said.

“Did you like the Army?” I asked.

“Yeah, but after the first two years it became like any job and I began to think of it as a prison term and was pretty much counting down the days til I was out.” He said. “I don’t think I’d ever go back into the military.”

Will’s shirt was off and I noticed he had several tattoos.

“What are the tattoos for?” I asked.

He pointed to the one on his left arm, it was a big Pabst Blue Ribbon logo above which were the words ‘Powered By.’

“I got that one when I was 17, couldn’t even legally drink or get a tattoo then,” He laughed. “Love PBR.” He said,

“What’s the one in your armpit?” I asked.

“Well I was getting out of the Army in a couple months and I had a friend that did tattoos. I gave him $100 and said, ‘Do whatever you want.” He googled ‘pink eye and gross vagina,’ and used a combination of images to come up with what I’ve got in my armpit.” He said as he lifted his arm to reveal what looked like a warn out wizards sleeve of a vagina with an infected red, puffy, and pussing eye staring out and his armpit hair growing out of all of it really added to the overall grossness.

“Tattoo in your armpit hurts like hell, my lymph nodes swelled to the size of peaches for about a week.” He said.

“That sounds like it hurt a lot.” I said.

“Yeah I couldn’t even lift my arm above my head.” He said.

“Ouch,what’s that other one for?” I asked as I pointed to the large black silhouette of the state of Massachusetts on his forearm.

“Well, I’m from Massachusetts and the ’508′ inside the state is my area code and the heart inside the ’0′ stands for home is where the heart is.” He said.

“That’s really cool. I was meaning to ask, is there anything I can do for work for stay?” I asked.

“I think I’ve got something.” He said.

I spent the next hour sawing the limbs off a fallen pine tree and dragging them to areas the AMC was looking to reforest and wanted to block off to hikers.

As it got later and the day became night Farm-A-Sea rolled into camp. We didn’t talk too much as it was pretty late when I finished my work and I headed to pond right after I finished and listened to some music on my tape recorder while I journaled. As the sun completely vanished I stared out onto the pond as the mist rolled by.

With no one to talk to by the pond I just thought and I realized I was really going to be alone and I wasn’t sure I wanted to do this thing alone, or maybe I just wasn’t sure I could.

Rose – Lunch on the tower.

Bud – Mahoosic Notch.

Thorn – Ankle acting up again.

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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 14: Baring It All at Bald Mountain Pond

Wednesday, June 23rd, 2010

Mud Mediatating In Moxie Bald Pond

Friday, 6-18-2010
8.9 Miles Hiked, 2,046.7 Miles to Springer

It was a late start today as we hit the trail at 8:20 A.M.  Even with our late start we were ready to hike far before our shelter mates Bishop and Abraham. Before we left they were both awake, but not moving into hiking mode as quickly as we were, Mud and I don’t mess around in the morning, we get our gear together and go. We found out they still took the time to do warm breakfast every morning. Mud and I had given up on that a long time ago, it just takes to much time to get the stoves ready, heat everything up and eat. It almost seemed ludicrous to me that someone would want to spend time warming their breakfast, but to each their own.

Before we left I asked a question I find myself asking pretty much every hiker I meet.

“How’d you get your trail names?” I asked as we were strapping our packs on ready to leave.

“Well, our plain up to Maine got laid over in New York for a couple days. We were walking around one of the parks in the city and some guys were playing chess. A man from Mississippi asked me to play. He said he was pretty good and I told him I wasn’t. Long story short, I beat him by splitting his king and rook with my bishop. I like to think I earned my name that way.” Bishop said.

After Bishop finished giving his explanation Abraham said, “Back home a lot of my friends make fun of me and joke that ?I look like I’m Jewish, even though I’m not at all.” He said laughing. “So I figured a Jewish Biblical name would be fitting so I chose Abraham.” He said.

“That’s pretty funny.” I said. “Have a a good hike today. I’m sure we’ll see you later on.”

The hike was an easy one again today. The forest smelled especially like sapp, and pine needles, and most of all memories of Christmas. It reminded me of Christmas tree chopping with my family as a little kids, and it made me miserably homesick, which is weird cause I used to go months at a time at school without seeing my family.

Today was the first day it really felt like summer in Maine. Temperatures were near ninety degrees. Where my blue shirt met my back was dark blue drenched with my sweat. Mud and I stayed close today and talked more than we have been.

“Yesterday when you left the river to go nap I went skinny dipping in the river. I got out and just laid out on a rock completely naked. Those to old men we saw fishing upstream walked up on me and I think I scared them away cause they turned right back around when they saw me.” Mud said with a laugh.

“Oh, no.” I said laughing too.

“I’ve never been skinny dipping.” I thought. “What type of college swimmer am I that I’ve never bared it all in the water?” I decided right then that I was skinny dipping the next time I got the chance.

We arrived at our shelter at 12:30 P.M. Moxie Bald lean-to sat right on Bald Mountain Pond. Apparently I was going to get my chance today. Right after we got to the shelter Mud and I stripped down to our briefs and headed to the pond to cool off. The cold water felt wonderful on this scorcher of a day. The pond bottom was extremely muddy though, and every step you took your foot was swallowed, which I hated the feeling of.

Having cooled off we headed back to the shelter for lunch. Mud had some pop tarts with peanut butter and I had a Snickers and some crackers dipped in peanut butter. While we ate Bishop and Abraham stopped in for a quick bite and then kept on hiking. The peanut butter and chocolate coma was about to hit hard again, and I could tell Mud was tired too as he laid back and closed his eyes.

“This is it, the time is right, if you’re going to do it, then do it now.” I thought.

I didn’t want to disturn Mud so I tip toed out of the shelter as I left and headed to the pond still in my underwear.

My watch said 2:30 P.M. It was still bright as hell out and if someone wanted a better view of the pond the spot I was at would be here they’d go to get it. It was a Saturday too which meant there would be more day and weekend hikers on the trail and higher probably of someone walking up on me.

Just thinking about doing it when their was a high chance of being caught gave me the same adrenaline rush I used to get before all my swimming races. I felt both exhilarated and terrified. I had to do it. I glanced back down the path from the pond to the shelter one last time to make sure Mud hadn’t woken and decided to come to the pond. There was no signof Mud.

I rolled my black, sheer, polyester, Jockey brand bocer breifs down to my ankles exposing some pale thighs and cheeks. I stepped out of one leg. Then I lifted up the remaining leg and pulled my underwear completely off. I sat bare assed down on the sun warmed slab of rock that led into the pond and I looked out onto the smooth, shimmering, sun reflecting pond. It was peacdful, quiet and there was nothing around but water, trees, mountains and my white behind.

I stood up and took my first step in. It felt colder than it had before. I took another step. The water was at about my knees and the mud had swallowed my feet up to my ankles. “Please don’t let there be a snapping turtle or snack in this mud.” I thought. I kept walking trying to get to this boulder that was about twenty yards from shore. With each step away from shore and towaed the rock the water rose closer to my waste. “Wow, that’s freaking cold.” I thought as the water now covered everything a pair of jeans would. I took another step.

My leg was swallowed up to my knee cap by mud. “Aaaaaaaah!” I screamed in my head. “Oh no, I can only imagine whate large mud dwelling creatures home I just disturbed.” I thoguht. I pulled my leg out as fast as I could fighting the suction of the mud. I got my body into a floating position on my stomach and swam the last five feet to the boulder not wanting to put feet down again.

After pulling myself up on the boulder, which offered protection from view behind me I was glad to no longer be naked and vulnerable on the muddy pond floor and happy to be both those things on a dry sun warmed boulder in the middle of the pond. As I sat there an animal like surge of onesness with nature flowed through me. Being naked in nature felt freeing. I felt like this was right. I stood up on the boulder facing out toward the pong away from shore and I pumped my fists in the air, I flexed, and ?I did a one legged kick in the air.

I lost my balance, slid off the boulder, both feet landed in a mud sink hole swallowing me again up to just above my knees. I manouvered out of the mud hole again and swam to shore til I was about at one foot fepth. I did not want to put my feet down ahani and feel the suctiony mud on me again.

I got back to the rock slide where I entered and I rerobed. After drying in the sun a little bit I headed back to the shelter. Mud was awak and was now dressed, meaning he wasn’t asleep while I was skinny dipping as I had planned. As I sat back down in the the shelter and looked pack at the pond I realized the tip of the boulder I stood on was visible between a gap that seperated two trees. I also realized a naked man standing on the tip of that boulder would be highly visible from the shelter.

“So, you’re awake.” I said.

“Yep.” Mud said.

I figured I should try and clear the air because I sensed a bit of awkward tension. “I was skinny dipping in the pond. It was pretty freaking cold.” I said.

“I figured that what you were doing.” He said.

“He ‘figured that’s what I was doing.’ Yep he definetly saw me.” I thought. “I better just put it all the awkwardness out at once.” I thought.

“Sorry if I flashed or mooned you.” I said, realizing as I stared back through the trees where the boulder was that he probably saw my naked fist pumping, flexing, kicking, and fall from grace, and probably saw all of me the way I was moving around on that boulder.

“No, don’t worry bout it, didn’ see anything.” Mud said. Whether he was telling the truth or just sparing me any further humiliation I felt the the issue had been put to rest.

Mud ate dinner first as has become the usual and I wrote in my journal on a rock by the lake. I would take breaks every minute or so to make sure the small garden snake and two huge wolf spiders near by weren’t advancing toward me.

When I returned from my writing and Mud had finished dinner we built a massice bonfire. We hoped it would help keep the mosquitos away while we slept. Once it was roaring I headed to the rock where my skinny dipping adventure began and prepared my own dinner.

While I was boiling my water I noticed two men on the lake each in their own motorized boat. The man closest to me was bald and ad a German Shepperd looking dog riding with him. He kept casting his line over and over agian almost every thirty seconds.

“There any fish in this fuckin’ lake.” the man said in a Connecticut accent. I was shicked at how well the water carried his voice from over 300 yards or so away.

“I wouldn’t know.” I said. “I’m not fishing here.”

“Then what the fuck are you doing on this fuckin’ lake?” He asked.

“Hiking the A.T.” I said.

“Oh,” He said. “Is this where that fuckin’ trail meets the lake?” He asked.

“It sure is.” I said.

“Is that fuckin’ shelter somewhere around here?” He asked.

“Yeah we’re staying in it.” I said right as Mud walked up to see who I was talking to. This was where the conversation died. Mud went back to the shelter after about five minutes.

I managed to cook, eat, and clean my pot and the man was still on the pond in his boat, and still seemed unsuccessful.

Right as I got up to head back to the shelter I heard the man shout. I originally thought it was towards me, but then realized it was either directed towards the pond, his friend, the fish, or his fishing equipment as he shouted, ” You fuckin’ cunt, your fathers a cunt, your mothers a cunt, and your a cunt.” He screamed.

The words echoed across the lake, through the forest and bounced from mountain to mountain.

“What was that?” Mud asked as I returned.

“That guy in the canoe apparently thinks that other guy is a pretty big cunt and has some fuckin’ cunt parents too.” I said.

“Oh.” said Mud.

I put up my bear bad and we fed the fire a little more and as I sat to write my journal my pen was kicked dry. I had no choice but to wait until I found a replacement and go to bed.

Rose- Skinny Dipping

Bud -Getting a real day of hiking in

Thorn- Getting suctioned by the mud

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