It’s amazing how quickly we can build a routine. We got up and met in the kitchen again before heading over to the general store for breakfast. The waitress already knows us (at least 4 out of 5: one of our group seems to be invisible). Ever since Hikers Welcome Hostel, I’ve tried to keep my mouth shut a little bit. For anyone who possibly remembers me, at least they will understand this is a difficult task at best. I am missing something most people seem to have. Namely, a filter between thoughts and mouth. In my case, things are out of my mouth before I even realize I’m thinking about it.
I’ve been trying to study other people’s behavior and determine where I’m at a deficit. There are many, but the most apparent right off the bat from traveling with Bear, Sassy, and Good Chip is that they truly are thoughtful and polite to people from the get-go. My inclination is to focus on the impending task and ignore the person I’m dealing with (I still believe I’m somewhere on the autistic spectrum). Chip is polite almost to a fault (not that that is even possible). He thanks everyone for everything they do and acknowledges any effort they put out. Maybe this is from his years of being a general works supervisor, but he definitely deserves the adjective “good” Chip.
When Gloria dropped us off today, we agreed upon a location to call in so she could decide when to pick us up. Today was another glorious day; perfect, actually. We are hiking in our last state with clear blue skies and a fantastic dirt track. Sure, there are some roots in the trail, but nothing that equals the group mentality that Maine’s trails are trying to kill us. Just as in Pennsylvania, if you slow down a bit, the trail is enjoyable. A day like today makes me believe that one day, I might even have fond memories of New Hampshire. I might go so far as to believe I might even forgive the lying bastards at Big Agnes (no, I haven’t been drinking or smoking weed which is legal in Maine).
What’s in a name? I’m thinking about this today because of Good Chip. The women at Pine Ellis are practically swooning over him by now. I try to convince everyone to call him Sponge Worthy Chip because Ilene, Gloria, and Naomi have been undressing him with their eyes whenever he walks into the room. Did I mention the average age of the 3 ladies in well north of 70? I guess I’m the only Seinfeld fan in our group.
We spent much more time walking together today and talking. We got some more background on Good Chip. He had told us that he had been bitten by a snake. We got more details today. He was walking along the trail and thought he had been stung from stepping on a ground hive so he picked up his pace to put distance between him and the hive. Being “good” Chip, he even warned southbound hikers to be aware of the hive. It wasn’t until the next night when Chip got to town that he washed up and discovered a pair of bite holes in his ankle. Since his foot was swollen, he decided to go get it checked out at the local ER. The Dr. told him that he had probably been bitten by a copperhead when he stepped on it. Fortunately, mature snakes don’t tend to waste venom on animals that are too big to swallow so it was probably just a warning bite. Chip was told he wasn’t in danger since he hadn’t really had an adverse reaction in the first 48 hours. They gave him an ace bandage and a Benadryl and sent him on his way. Bear thought this sounded like a Chuck Norris story…”Chuck Norris got bit by a snake and the snake died.” Henceforth, Chip will be known as Good Chip Norris.
Now that Good Chip Norris has been born right before our eyes, I think I should explain how the rest of us got our trail names. Sassy, other than being a bit so, is actually an acronym for “Steady As She Sashays Yon.” When Bear and Sassy began the trail 14 years ago, they were walking with a lot of young, testosterone driven men. They would blow by Gina on the downhill sections but would Peter out on the steep uphill climbs in GA. Gina, at that time of life, maintained the same steady pace at all times. Inevitably, she would pass the testosterone yutes on the uphill, thus pissing them off. Hence, Steady as she Sashays. I’m pretty sure Bear added the yon to cover up calling her sassy.
On the same section that year, Ron was a tad bit afraid of running into a bear. They had been sitting around a campfire one evening and gotten him “hyper aware” of the bear menace. The next day while hiking, he heard a couple of bears in the brush beside the trail and yelled out a warning to everyone. The “bears” turn out to be a couple of very happy black labs. That wasn’t enough to seal the deal for him, though. That night while sleeping, he was making bear sounds in his sleep (some might say snoring). This might explain why I have never seen him actually sleeping because the sassy woman he shares a tent with might not take kindly to having a bear close to her and choose to beat it. Poor, sleepless Bear.
Bunny Tracks chose her own name, but I will verify that “Bunny” had to be a part of her name. Before we assumed a trail life, I lived in what can only be termed “Bunny Hell.” She has a rabbit fetish unparalleled in the annals of human history. When we packed everything into storage, the heaviest and biggest box was filled with nothing but rabbits. I’m sure they’ll all be dead before we get let them out of the box, but, such is life. She likes to say she likes to make tracks like a bunny. I say, remember, that the bunny ultimately lost the race to the turtle and Bunny Tracks is NOT rewriting that story.
My name speaks for itself. I am Easily Forgotten. My ex-wife didn’t recognize me when I ran into her at the gym a mere 4 months after our divorce. One of my better friends from high school didn’t remember me at all when I ran into him at the mall. He even introduced me to his wife…one of our classmates who had also forgotten me. Hell, I’ll even be standing in front of a urinal peeing and it will forget I am there and flush. That is not an ego boost at all.
Way back when we started hiking this trail, there was a group of four old guys who started calling themselves the Four Horsemen. They started within a couple days of us and were suffering from the thought of testosterone lost. They were hiking 25 mile days right out of the box. We thought this was incredibly stupid (and not just because we are completely unable to do so). Sure enough, the first horseman had to drop out because of tendinitis by the time they got to Hot Springs. Ultimately, only one made it past Damascus before we stopped hearing about them. (They were in Damascus before we made Hot Springs.) Today, I ran into a guy hiking southbound who said he started in mid February. We were talking about people we both knew before I realized he was one of the Horsemen. He had made it all the way to New Jersey before he had to get off trail because of a stress fracture in his foot. I told him I wasn’t surprised they had all gotten injured pushing themselves so hard. He honestly didn’t think there was any connection since he had made it all the way to NJ. I think the medical world needs to explain diagnosis to patients a bit better.
We stopped on top of Moody Mountain after a very fun climb. We had climbed 1200’ in the last mile and a half, but the trail was a blast. There were handholds and steps where needed. There were manageable scrambles. Most importantly, there was a trail to be followed with assistance where needed. We had a snack, called for our ride, and soaked up the views. There were windmills in the distance and the color change is becoming more apparent every day. I even called my parents and talked a bit.
Gloria told us she’d meet us in 45 minutes. I thought that was a little aggressive since my left knee was hurting a bit, but I learned my lesson to not argue. She pulled up just as we emerged onto the road. We got another cup of piss-laden lemonade to enjoy on the short drive back to the hostel. That night we decided to splurge and eat at the Little Red Hen and carb up on an AYCE Italian Buffet. This was not the place to eat if your chosen lifestyle is gluten free. Good Chip Norris declared himself gluten free intolerant.
EFG