Posts Tagged ‘white blaze’

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 17: National Hike Naked Day

Wednesday, June 23rd, 2010

Monday, 6-21-2010
13.7 Miles Hiked, 2,013.9 Miles to Springer

The scents of bacon, eggs, homes fries, and Dunkin’ Doughnuts coffee wafted up the stairs this morning and woke me just before my alarm sounded. Old Man River was preparing another amazing feast before he took us back to the trail.

Mud and I gorged ourselves on the more than generous portions Old Man River offered. We ate an ate and washed our food down with coffee,with creamer and sugar, orange juice, and V8 Splash. I felt like royalty. I tossed back two Advil with breakfast and Old Man River told me I could take the bottle he had, and I did. I went into the bathroom and I swallowed all forty five pills right on the spot, I was looking for my way off the trail and back to civilization for good and I found in it in a trip to the hospital to have my stomach pumped. I kid, I joke, I would never want to do anything that separate me from the trail, at least for now.

We loaded back up and I gave Mud shotgun this time round. We stopped at a different Walmart than the previous day so I could buy some bug spray. I also printed off some pictures to send to Sarah with the letter I wrote.

“You guys know what today is right?” Old Man River asked.

“It’s Summer Solstice.” He said. “The longest day of the whole year, after this we’re headed back to winter. It’s also National Hike Naked Day.” He said.

“Wow, that really exists? I came across an article about it when I was researching the trail last year, but I didn’t think it was a real thing.” I said. “Did you see anyone hike naked last year on it?” I asked.

“No, but I talked to some people who said they did it for a couple miles. It’s actually pretty risky cause if you get caught by a ranger and arrested it goes down in your record forever that you’re a sexual offender.” He said.

“Oh wow, yeah, that would not be good.” I said.

Old Man River drove us to the post office and said he’d stick around and take us back to the trail after we got our packages.

“I want to see what’s in those packages to see how much extra stuff you’re gonna have to carry with you.” He said.

I didn’t really see what Mud got in his package but I think some new pants. a new hat, and I know two bags of chocolate covered peanuts or raisins or something.

In my package from Sarah I got two huge bags of Honey Mustard pretzel bits, my favorite snack in the world. One bag was heavy season and one was light season. I don’t really care for the light seasoning in the same way I don’t care for girls who are really flirty and never follow through. Does anyone like a tease? I also got a freeze dried Mexican chicken dish for two, a freeze dried ice cream sandwitch, some Cliff brand Mojo bars, my iPhone solar charger, a black bandana, hand and feet warmers, hand sanitizer, camp suds, and a card from Sarah with four pictures of her mouthing out the words “I,” “Love,” and “You” in the first three, and her blowing a kiss in the fourth. The card was my favorite part of the package.

I sent the sanitizer, camp suds, bandana, and warmers home with m y bag of other things I didn’t need, and I kept the rest. My food bags were full to the brim.

I got my stuff packaged and sent and sent Sarah my letter and pictures. I can’t wait for her to get them.

Old Man River took our trash from us and we loaded back up and headed to the trail head.

In our short trip down the road I told the rest of the car about what I had learned from the woman working at the post office.

“The woman behind the main desk told me she moved here twenty two years ago from Massachusetts. She said its a great place to live and they’ve loved it. She said when they moved in there were twenty three kids in the town grades K-12 and they all got taught in a three room school house by three teachers. She said it was a really cool experience for her kids. She said there just aren’t enough kids in the town anymore so the ones that do live there get shipped to schools close to forty miles away.”

“Oh wow,” Said Mud and Old Man River.

“Forty miles is freakin far.” Said Mud.

“Yeah it is.” I said.

Old Man River pulled into the parking lot and opened the trunk and we pulled out our hiking stick and poles and then our packs and said goodbye  and thanks you and shook his hand.

Just as we started walking South again he leaned out the drivers door and shouted, “Carpe Diem.”

“Will do.” I said.

“Sieze the karp.”Mud joked.

I started thinking about the message of the movie last night and what it really meant, what Old Man River’s last words to us really meant.

“Carpe Diem, Seize the day.”

It made me realize the whole movie was about living your life in the here and the now, about doing something risky, something that challenges you, something that brings you happiness, something that not maybe everyone understands, something that maybe you don’t even understand, but something you know you need to do.

I felt like that’s how I was living my life. I’m actually ‘living’ my life and not just the life friends, family, society, or coaches are telling me to live. I’m doing something just because I can and I wanted to. It felt good to feel like I was living in the moment, it felt good to feel in control.

My serious thoughts faded as Mud said, “Well, we weren’t murdered. I locked my door last night just in case.”

“I shut mine but felt safe enough to leave it unlocked.” I said.

We had reached the Kennebec River ferry in no time at all. A man named Hillbilly Dave welcomed us. He had long fried looking hippie locks, and every accessory from his fraying aqua marine sweat pants to his massive gold framed reading glasses, beer gut, and gap teeth added to the hill billy persona.

He gave us some paper work to fill out and gave us some background on the river, how it rises and falls randomly depending on when the damns release, and how that is why crossing it without a canoe is so dangerous.

“Haven’t lost a hiker since 1986 and crossed 23,000 safely since 1987/” Hillbilly Dave said.

“How’d the hiker die?” I asked.

“She was doing a NOBO thru hike with her husband and they decided to try and ford the river. It started to rise faster than she expected and her husband made it across and she didn’t. They found her body washed up on shore up stream.” He said.

“Oh my gosh.” I said.

“Bad way to end a thru hike.” Mudsaid.

After talking with him while he paddled us across we learned Hillbilly Dave was relatively new to the job. He was taking the job over from a man who had been ferrying people for something crazy like the last twenty years. We also learned that last year he crossed over 1200 people with only 12 idiots who had decided they would try to ford the river. He said most people that ford don’t do it because they missed the ferry time, they do it because they think it some how makes them seem like a tougher hiker.

We reached the other side  at about 9:30 A.M. it only took us five minutes.

“Seen any naked hikers yet?” I asked as we unclipped our life vests.

“Not yet. I crossed a guy earlier who said he wasn’t drunk enough to be naked yet, but said he’d be drinking in the woods and would probably be doing some naked hiking later in the day.” He said.

“Oh great, so we should be on the lookout for a drunk, naked hiker. Sounds like this will be a promising hike.

Mud and I strolled down an easy trail to Pierce Pnd lean-to. We saw an old couple in a small bota out fishing. On the shelter wall we noticed and advertisement for a place called Harrison’s ledge. You can shower, spend the night, and have a twelve pancake breakfast all for thirty dollars, not too bad.

After we finished lunch Mud and I figured no one else would be coming toward us since the ferry shut down for the day at 11:00 A.M. and it was now 11:30 A.M. and we figured id anyone were coming from behind us  we’d notice them. We decided the time had come to celebrate National Hike Naked Day in proper attire.

We headed away from the shelter and out of sight of the old couple fishing. Now that we were back on the trail we set our packs down and began disrobing. I pulled my shorts and underwear off over my boots, not wanting to deal with the hassle of relacing them and then I took off my blue shirt.

“Wow, that’s your ass, and you’re already naked.” Mud said.

“Yeah, I’m pretty good at getting naked fast, maybe something to do with wearing a speedo all the time.” I said as I glanced over my shoulder to see hadn’t even finished taking his boots off. That’s a rookie mistake if you need to get naked fast, never waste time on the shoes, cause naked is still naked even with shoes on.

I loaded my clothes into the brain of my pack for easy access in case I had to get to them fast and to get dressed. I put my pack on and buckled it. I grabbed my yellow bandana and hung it from my packs waist belt. It covered just enough so my frank and beans weren’t exposed.

Mud undressed, got his pack on, and rigged his hiking hat much in the same way I had done my bandana. I set my camera timer and set it on a rock and we got some pretty funny photos. Once the camera was away we both followed the white blazes bare asses. It was 12:08 P.M. and the brightest it’s ever been any time that I’ve ever been outside naked, which is a total of twice in my adult life, got skunked in a game of beer pong sophomore year of college and rules are rules.

Mud hiked naked til 12:38. He gave it a full half hour and about a mile of hiking before he called it quits. : Myass is getting bit and I’d really like to not my dick bit too.” He said.

I had decided if I was hiking naked today I was going big. I was hiking the whole hike naked.

“If you’re getting dressed how about you walk a couple hundred yards ahead and you can be my warning alarm. Just shout really loud if you see a family, kids, or a ranger and I’ll run into the woods and change before I’m seen.” I said.

“Ok.” Mud said.

I hiked with white cheeks out for what seemed like  an endless amount of time. We crossed North Branch Carrying Place Stream, a logging road, which just after we got to the other side and into the woods, two cars passed. Then we passed East Carry Pond. I had hiked almost seven miles naked and still no sign of another hiker let alone a ranger.

As we came close to Sandy Stream and Middle Carry Pond I heard a voice. I figured Mud was coming back to tell me something. I heard voices.

“It can’t be.” I thought, Mud said he’s me a warning shout if people were coming.

It was. Two men about my age were walking straight toward me talking to each other. Each glanced at me and back at each other and laughed.

“Hi.” I said.

I walked further up the trail to see Mud having a good laugh.

“You’re a bastard, you know that?” I said.

“If it was a family or kids or a ranger I would have warned you, but it wasn’t and that was pretty funny.” Mud said.

“Whatever. I didn’t really care anyways.” I said.

We got to West Carry Pond and then strolled into camp at West Carry lean-to. The pond was beautiful but very choppy water and it seemed like it might be to overcaste for swimming. I decided to swim anyways and after swimming just twenty or so strokes I was reminded how much I love swimming and just how much I miss it, and how much I miss coaching too. The sun came out for a little after I had swum around for a few minutes and I took that opportunity to get out and  dry off.

As I dried off with my bandana I noticed I had burn marks on the top of my butt and all over my back from where pack rubbed against my bare skin during today’s hike. I stung all over. The only way I felt better was by sleeping so I did. I awoke to an awkward looking small man with a funny accent asking me if he had woken me up. I found out he was from Israel but was attending a music school called Berkley in Massachusetts. He said his name was Picachu, but his real name was Ayal.

He told us he was out hiking because he had been looking for a cheap way to spend summer vacation so he subletted his apartment for two and a half months and decided to hike the AT from Massachusetts to Maine. He said unfortunately he’ll be done in a month and a half so he’ll be moving in with his aunt in New York for a few weeks. I also got a chuckle when he told us that at the top of two mountains he made miniature movies. In one he plays the theme song from Titanic on a recorder he brought with him and screams, “I’m king of the world!” and in another he plays the Braveheart theme song and screams “Freedom!”

I need to get my hands on both those videos as they sound amazing.

Picachu also told the said story of a man who helped him out in New Hampshire.

“His name is Chet.” He said. “He was going to be a thru hiker years ago. He’s in his late thirties now I would guess. During his thru hike one of his propane cooking stoves blew up in his face. He was in a coma for fourteen months and the doctors told him he would never function normally again. He lives off disability in a house by himself. Now he takes hikers in who need a place to stay because it makes him happy to help people. It’s very sad, but he is a very nice man.” Picachu said. “I will give you his number so you can stay with him if you need to.” He said.

“Thanks.” Mud and I said.

Picachu fell asleep rather early. Mud and I stayed awake and finished cooking our dinners. Right as I was halfway through making my Ramen I realized I had lost my spoon somewhere between Caratunk, Old Man River’s and our current location.

I ate my Ramen and tuna with my filthy dirt stained fingers, and was excited to be almost in Straton where I could get a new spoon.

Before I went to bed I placed moleskin on my back and butt where the pack burns were extra sensitive. I went to bed with no worries about Picachu murdering me, I felt he was a non threat. I hoped I was right.

Rose – Hiking Naked

Bud – Hiking with clothes on

Thorn – Hiking Naked

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Night 16: A Trail Angel Earns His Wings

Wednesday, June 23rd, 2010

Sunday, 6-20-2010
5.7 Miles Hiked, 2,027.9 Miles to Springer

A trail angel is someone who performs trail magic. Trail magic is basically any kind deed done for a hiker with no expectation of getting anything back in return. Trail magic could include: Giving a hiker a lift into town, leaving a cooler, marked ‘for thru hikers’ full of soda and food at a trail head, offering up your home for a night, taking a hiker for a fast food lunch, handing out freezie pops on a hot day, any of these would qualify.

We were ecstatic from the time we woke up today. Mud was feeling much better and both of us were excited to restock, shower, do laundry,maybe stop at a fast food joint, and charge our phones, cameras and selves.

When we left Pleasant Pond lean-to it was only 5.7 miles to U.S. 201, Caratunk, ME, where Old Man River was going to pick us up.

A hot topic between Mud and I the past few days had been Old Man River, and whether he was just a really nice guy trying to help some hikers out or a ruthless murderer luring us back to his cottage for a night drugging, endless torture, and eventual murder or human centipeding.

As we started on our hike I said, “Man, I really hope he doesn’t just pick us up, take us somewhere and murder us.”

“Yeah, that would suck. Have you told anyone we’re going to his house today?” Mud asked.

“I told my parents, Sarah, and all my friends that I’ve talked to. Plus I wrote about it in my journal, and left a recording on my regular tape recorder, and the tape recorder on my iPhone listing all the info I know about him; his name, his trail name, his phone number, where he said he was from, where he said he was taking us and a brief description of what he looks like. So, I mean, if we do get drugged, tortured, and murdered they should be able to trace it back to him.” I said.

“Oh, okay, good.” Mud said as he laughed.

“Yeah, plus I made my facebook status; ‘Old Man River’s house tomorrow.’ So the whole world should know now.” I said.

“You think we could take him if he tried anything, we could take him, I think.” Mud said.

“Yeah we could probably take him, unless he has a gun. Also I’m worried he’ll offer to feed us and there will be crushed up drugs in the food to knock us out. Cause if we get drugged we really aren’t fighting back.” I said.

We went through scenario after scenario of ways Old Man River might try to of us. I’m not sure why we were so worried. He seemed very nice and he had only looked and acted like a normal person around us, but isn’t always the ones you least expect?

The 5.7 miles flew by and we had reached the trail head at Caratunk parking lot thinking there must be a mistake, 5.7 miles isn’t supposed to be that easy and quick.

Neither of us had any service in the town of Caratunk, established 1840, according to the sign that marked the entranced into the town which was a really just one street with several massive, old, tin roofed houses. Half the houses were either empty, falling apart, or for sale.

“I’m going to go find the post office and see if I can find service anywhere.” I said. I left Mud on the steps of an abandoned looking one room school house at the front of the street. Halfway up the street I realized my glasses weren’t on my head and I had taken my contacts out cause they were bothering me. I started squinting to see if any of the old buildings were going to distinguish themselves as the town’s post office.

I felt like I had been walking forever. I crossed a concrete bridge that over looked a stream. All of the sudden two junk yard dogs ran off a porch of a junkyard looking house and yard and began circling me, barking and snarling, teeth a blazing.

I stopped movie and just stood still as they barked and snarled.

“Nice doggies,” I said “You guys are nice doggies, right, okay…please stop circling me and go back. Go back.” I said in a calm more effeminate voice. I set my hands down at my side and the brown snarling dog came up to me an started licking my fingers. “Thank god I just ate peanut butter with my fingers for lunch.” I thought. Once the brown dog had been won over the black one followed suit and both were now letting me pet them.

I found the post office just diagonal from the junk yard house. It too looked just like all the homes on the street. I still had no service. There was a public phone outside the post office which I tried to use, but it informed me I would need an access code to use it, and with the post office closed I didn’t think I’d be getting that code.

I headed back down the street toward Mud. There was an old man working in his massive garage which looked like an old barn and was attached to an especially spectacular white Victorian house. Above the garage was a sign indicating the house had been built in 1888.

“Excuse me  sir? I shouted toward the garage, trying to be heard above the sounds of the tools.

“Yes , son.” He said.

“Is there anywhere in town I might get service or a place I could use a public phone?” I asked.

“The post office has one I think.” He said.

” tried that one, but it said I needed an access code.” I said.

“Oh, hmmmm, well, wait one second and I’ll let you use my phone.” He said.

I dialed Old Man River’s number to verify where to meet him.

“Is this John?” He said as he answered.

“No, it’s Justin.” I said.

“Yeah, Justin.” He said.

“Oh no, sociopaths usually don’t learn their victims names so they won’t sympathize with them, maybe this is one of those things.” I thought.

“Do you want to meet us in the parking lot at the trail head or the post office?” I asked.

“Trail head one s fine.” He said. “I’m about twenty minutes away.”

“Okay, no rush, thanks again, and see you soon.” I said.

“Is that someone you know in Maine?” Asked the man whose phone I was using.

“Someone we met hiking. He’s got a cabin he’s taking us to for the night so we can shower and do laundry and restock on food.” I said.

“That’s really nice.” The old man said.

“Yeah, it is. We’re just hoping he’s not taking us someplace in the woods  to murder us.” I said

“Hahahahaha. ‘Takin’ ya somewhere to murder ya,’ I’d certainly hope not. Better sleep with your knife close to your chest. Hahahaha.” He laughed.

“Thanks for the phone.” I said as I walked down the street back toward Mud.

We headed back to the trail head parking lot to wait.Every car that slowed just slightly at the tralihead entrance caught out attention and made our hearts swell with anticipation.

After several cars played games with our hearts Old Man River arrived in his Texas plated Ford SUV. He dropped off another hiker at the bottom of the hill and then gunned it up the hill to where we were.

“Coke or Diet Coke?” He asked as he pulled a cooler full of ice cold soda cans out.

“Coke.” Both Mud and I replied.

Mud gave me the go ahead to take shotgun and he took the backseat. Maybe he figured the shotgun passenger would be the first to be murdered if that’s what Old Man River was really interested in.

“You guys want to stop and get some fast food on the way. It’s about 58 miles to my cottage. I’ve got dinner taken care of, but we could stop somewhere now or we could go back and you can shower and we could stop on our way to Walmart for your resupply.” He said.

“Let’s stop now.” Mud and I agreed.

“We’ve got McDonalds, Pizza Hut, Burger King, and Subway.” Old Man River said. It was so nice to hear the names of all my oldest, dearest friends.

“You choose.” I said to Mud.

“Okay, how bout Burger King?” Mud said.

“Sounds good to me.” I said.

After Old Man River who used to work in the food industry, informed me that the One Buck Double was Burger Kings biggest money loser because it cost 80 cents to produce because of all the meat it uses I chose that one. I also ordered a whopper junior, a value fried and a value soda. I was living like a king, a burger king. I couldn’t resist.

We finished lunch and headed to Old Man River’s cottage which he told us sat right on a lake. This information caused me to the of the Judd Nelson movie I Cabin On The Lake. I was not interested in suffering the fate of the people in that movie who all become pieces of an underwater garden of corpses.

“Where’s the cottage?” I asked.

“Palmyra, Maine. The town just turned 200 a few years ago.” He said. I noticed the Palmyra sign as we past it driving into town. I figured he probably wasn’t going to kill me if he was giving me accurate information on where we were going. I texted all the information he gave me to people back home.

We made a couple of left turns that took us onto some gravel roads, one of which led to the cottage right on the lake. It was wood construction, brown siding with two decorative white geese wood cut outs hanging from the front. It was quaint, unpretentious, and had the best view the lake had to offer.

Mud got the first shower. I went through my pack and got my dirty close out so they’d be ready to be washed. I also set aside the items I planned to send home; my huge Gerber stabbing knife, my 50% wool, 50% cotton hat, my Indians baseball cap, and some extra emodium tablets.

“The pressures not great, but it gets the job done.” Mud said as he walked back into the family room where I had my things sprawled out.

I headed to the shower. I felt I smelled less offensive than when I exited the 100 miles wilderness, but there seemed to be more dirt spiraling down the the drain this time. After we were both clean and our laundry was done, and we’d each talked to loved ones, Old Man River took us to Walmart.

It started storming just as we left the cottage. You could hear the rain and thunder through the Walmart ceiling. Walmart was a heaven to our hungry eyes. We only needed to resupply for two to two and half days at the most. By the time I left I had probably bought as much food as I brought with me into the 100 mile wilderness.

After we returned from Walmart Mud and I put Animal House in the DVD while Old Man River read on the back screen porch and fished on the dock.

6:00 P.M. rolled around and so did the feast Old Man River had been preparing. He made a huge chicken pot pie which he cut into thirds, giving each of us a third. He steamed carrots, green beans, and the sweetest corn on the cob. He gave us potatoes the size of footballs and warm bread that melted the butter I spread on it in seconds.

Once the feast ended Old Man River even took and cleaned our dishes. The three of us hung out in his back yard and talked. He told us about his son and two daughters, and his grandkids and wife. He told us how loons are very territorial so usually you’ll only find two per lake. He told us about his life, and he treated us like we were family.

The sun set and the mosquitos came out in full force. Mud and I moved inside to the screen porch. Old Man River went into the house and was gone for a while. After a few minutes he came out from inside the house. In each hand he held a bowl the size of my head filled with shortcake, strawberries, strawberry juice, and piled six inches high with whipped cream.

“Thank you so much.” Both Mud and I said as he went back inside to get his bowl.

While he was inside I turned to Mud and said, “Oh no, he already drugged, tortured, and murdered us and now we’re in heaven eating desert.”

“I don’t think so.” Mud said. “This is like being on vacation from our vacation.”

“Yeah it is.” I said as I devoured the desert.

After licknig our bowls clean we headed back inside and sat in the family room.

“You up for another movie before we go to bed?” I asked Mud.

“Sure.” He said.

“My vote is for either Stand By Me or Dead Poets Society.” I said.

“Dead Poets Society sounds good to me.” Mud said.

We watched the movie while Old Man River read his book on the history of L.L. Bean. He eventually set the book down and joined us halfway through the movie.

Ir was weird cause I’d seen the movie when I was younger, but I had no recollection at all of the whole suicide scene that the movie basically hinges on. I spent the movie typing away on my phone trying to catch up on my blogging which I always seem to be behind on. I spent hours on one post just to think I lost it when it no longer appeared on my phone. I eventually found it and was relieved beyond belief.

Mud and I flipped a coin earlier to see who got  the bedroom with the queen bed and AC. I wont the toss. Old Man River was nice enough to take the pull out couch so that we could each have a bed.  I turned the AC on high in my room and shut the door. I decided not to lock it because I figured if he was really going to murder me it would have already happened. I texted Sarah “Goodnight” and “Love you.”

Rose – All of Old Man River’s Trail Angel deeds

Bud – Tomorrow is National Hike Naked Day

Thorn – We only hiked 5.7 miles, another nero day.

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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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Night 13: The Return of an Old Friend

Wednesday, June 23rd, 2010

Shaw's Boarding House

Thursday, 6-17-2010
9Miles Hiked, 2,055.6 Miles to Springer

Today began much like yesterday, except I woke up in a bed for the first time in almost two weeks, and I woke up at 5:00 A.M. to finish as much of my remaining blog posts as I could before I returned to the wild.

The AYCE breakfast was just like yesterday except better in my opionion cause it was french toast today instead of pancakes. Breakfast was also extra special because we were joined by our old friends Katie and Phoenix who were staying down the street at Lakeshore House. They were joined by their two friends Promethius and Achilles who hitchhiked out of the 100 mile wilderness just before we met Katie and Phoenix. Achilles said his heel was almost fully recovered.

“How’s Kodos doing?” I asked, remembering how raw her paws were when we last saw them.

“Not so good. I’ll be here for a while so they have a chance to heal. The vet suggested I buy her some of those baby socks with the grips which I’m definetly going to do cause right now she looks so awkward and uncomfortable walking around in my big wool socks.” She said.

“That’s a really good idea.” I said. “Have you thought about maybe sending her home?” I asked

“My parets were actually waiting for us at the end of the 100 mile wilderness as a birthday surprise. When we came out there were just standing there and I was like, ‘Aaaah, this is awesome.’” She said.

“What a great birthday surprise.” I said. “I guess you decided not to have them take Kodos home?” I asked.

“No, but I did give them my banjo so if I have to carry Kodos ou I won’t be carrying her and the banjo on my back.” She said.

Our conversation was interrupted by a lively woman who appeared to be in her late thirties or early forties. She had a young looking face, but under her baggy purple shirt that read, “World’s Funnest Aunt,” were a pair of boobs, appearing to be untamed by a bra that suggested she was no spring chicken.

“How’d you earn that title?” I asked as I pointed at her shirt.

“Well, I’ve got a niece and a nephew who think their Aunt Bekah is really fun.” She said.

“Well, you can’t argue with facts like that.” I said. The personality she carried herself with, the metalic purple nailpolish on her toes, her high cut black sophie shorts, and the boldness of her lack of bra all suggested she was a free spirit and didn’t really buy into the idea of age.

“Hi!” She said to Katie, Phoenix, Promethius, and Achilles as if she were surprised to find them here when she came her knowing this is where they were.

“Ive got a list of chores on the table when you guys get back, cause I’ll be out, my kids been dry heaving all night, poor thing.” She said.

By this point I put together that this was the Rebekah who owned Lake Shore House, the other hiker hostel in town and she was here to deliver our friends work for stay chores.

She handed Promethius a letter and asked him to read it to himself. Neither of them ever said what the letter said.

Rebekah did say, “I remembered you said you only had seven dollars left in your pocket and I wasn’t expecting this money to ever come my way so why don’t you keep it and get a little further down the trail.” She said as she handed Promethius a fifty dollar bill that come with the letter.

“Wow, trail magic at its best.” I thought.

As Rebekah left we all started talking again. Phoenix told us he though he’d be getting off the trail soon.

“I might try and hitch to Rock Island, IL, or maybe California and stay with some friends til school starts.” He said.

I was sad to hear he’d be leaving the trail, but we swapped contact information so we could stay in touch and he told me if I was ever in St. Petersburgh he has an open door policy regarding guests. “Just give me a call and I’d be glad to have you.” He said.

“Goodbye.” I said and he walked out the screen door and it slammed hard as he left.

As Phoenix was heading out a man staying at Shaw’s from Bedford, PA, who was marching his overweight son and his friend to Harper’s Ferry to help them both lose weight told us that someone was here to see us.

“Who the hell needs to see us?” I thought. “Everyone we know in Maine is right here with us.”

I hardly recognized him now that he was clean shaven and wearing civilian clothing. It was Old Man River.

“You made it out! You’re alive!” I said.

“Yeah. Didn’t make it too much further after I last saw you guys.” He said.

“I got about two meals worth of food from some guys I met, but my ankles just got too bad, s I walked down an old service road and hitched a ride back to my car in Monson.” He said.

“That’s good. I’m glad you’re okay.” I said.

“You know you don’t have a voicemail set up.” He said. “How are you going to call someone and tell them to call you back and leae a message when you don’t have a voicemail and your phone doesn’t have service?” He said in a more serious tone.

I just know realized that he had driven to Sahw’s because he had no other way of getting a hold of us. “I’m sorry. I just got this phone right before I left and I guess I never set it up.” I said.

“Anyways, I was thinking I could meet you in the post office parking lot at Caratunk on Sunday. Since the post office doesn’t open til Monday and the Kennebec River Ferry only run 9:00-11:00 A.M. I thought I’d take you guys to my cottage. You can shower, do laundry, and just get some rest and eat some good food and then I’lll get you back in time for the post office and the ferry on Monday.

“That would be awesome.” I said. “So what time should we meet you Sunday?” I asked

“I’ll be in the parking lot at noon.” e said.

“Okay, see you then.” I said.

“Set up your voicemail.” He said as he walked out the door.

“I will.” I said.

By 11:00 A.M. Mud and I were both getting antsy to be back on the trail. Ashleigh drove us back to where we hitchhiked out and we hit the trail again.

Both of us were astonished at how light our packs felt compared to when we started the 100 mile wilderness. The six cups of coffee I had that morning hit me hard about fifteen minutes into our hike. I had to take a poop break, but I told Mud to go ahead and I’d catch up later. Mud and I walked by ourselves until we met at East Branch Picataquis River ford, another essential creek posing as a river in our guidebook.

The trail today was amazing. The ground was soft, elevation consistant, and I’m pretty certain we walked most of the day on what used to be old logging roads because all the massived pines alongside us were planted in perfectly uniform rows as through they were planted like crops. I’m guessing the logging company was required to reforest after they tore this area down years ago.

The terrain was calm I even walked the last two miles in my Teva sandals. The Tevas were great until about a half mile from the shelter I slipped, slammed my forearms into one boulder, and banged my right shin on another. I decided the Tevas will now be strictly for stream crossing.

Once we had reached the Horse Shoe Canyon lean-to, I posted the add Dawn had asked me to that lsited all of Shaw’s information. I then took out a Snickers and dipped it in my jar of Panner brand peanut butter after each bite.

My chocolate and peanut butter lunch was coma inducing. I passed out at 4:30 P.M. and didn’t wake until 7:45 P.M. It was either that Mud had crushed up a benedryl and slipped it into my nalgene so he wouldn’t have to talk to me, or after a three day rest my body wasn’t used to the hiking and I was wxhausted.

Napping with my contacts in left me with some nasty eyes boogers as I woke that left me blinded. I saw too dark figures as I blinked. Each stood in front of me and neither was Mud. I looked around the shelter. No Mud.

“Oh no, they’ve killed Mud and disposed of the body and I’m next.” I thoguht. My vision began to clear as I wiped my groggy eyes. I saw Mud standing outside the shelter just outside my original field of vision.

I found out the men I thought were murderers were infact to SOBO hikers named Bishop and Abraham. They said they stayed in Monson extra long because they were closely following the world cup and were enjoying their days off and the cheap beer they found in town. They were both from Louisiana and both went to college at schools in the state that I’d never heard of. After talking some I found out both of their packs were half the weight of mine. I became envious and angry that they were carrying so much less. I think it was mostly because I was hungry and I’m never in a great mood right after a nap.

I made myelf some mac and cheeese and got in my sleeping bag. Today seemed way too easy and I knew In shouldn’t be this tired, but I was. I also knew if Maine was handing me an easy day it meant something awful would soon be on the way. I wrote til I fell asleep.

Rose – Old Man River is alive

Bud – Getting to Moxie Bald lean-to which Road Runner raved about

Thorn – Falling and bangnig my shin.

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