It was overcast when we woke up, but it wasn’t raining. That’s a good start. The tent set up in the shelter had worked pretty well, but it did provide some extra layers for me to go through in the middle of the night when I was forced, by Bunny, to get up and make sure everything was safe and secure. Poor, confused, and disillusioned Bunny insisted we take off and look for a moose as this would be the perfect morning. Cloud Pond was fogged in so it had a very eerie feel to it. I humored her.
I guess it’s time to fess up about the moose and how I know we’re not going to see one. Last year, when we were touring around Europe, I did some historical investigations. I’m sure just about everyone has heard of Nostradamus, the French physician, mathematician, and reputed seer who has made some spot on predictions about the rise of Napoleon, Hitler, and Stalin. I’ve always been fascinated by him. I was able to track down his Belgium cousin whose name may not be a household name, but his predictions have proven to be even more accurate. I’m talking, of course, about Nostradumbass.
Nostradumbass made predictions for specific situations and people. He didn’t just pull probable events out of the future and talk vaguely of them, but he was able to provide detailed predictions for select individuals. While in Bruges, Belgium, I ran across his home and was privileged to spend an afternoon in his library conducting my research. I found a very specific entry about a group of hikers on a long pilgrimage in a yet to be discovered land. I found it interesting since Bunny and I knew we were going to hike the Appalachian Trail. I didn’t know it was about us until quite recently. I happened to make a copy of his prediction and will share it now.
“Verily, a quad of seekers walking from south to north in Amascus will come together late in their journey. The quad will comprise of a seeker of stars with a spouse specializing in fixing the hands of sparking bards. Though they are not true pilgrims, nasty beings, only being slightly more than 1/3, they will join the true seekers made of a pair thought to have thrown away their lives by everyone around them. The quad will face perilous paths and deep waters most certainly headed to their ends until the Chorris, the giant serpent defeater, joins them and secures their safe fates. In exchange for this safety, the giant antler must pass.”
This entry always stuck with me. The 1/3 pilgrim never did make sense to me until Bear and Sassy started hiking with us. Bear and Sassy are only doing about 1/3 of the AT this year. Obviously, even Nostradumbass had issues with section hikers. Clearly Bear is the “seeker of stars” having worked for NASA for 38 years. His wife, Sassy “fixing the hands of sparking bards” means her work as an occupational therapist focusing on hand rehabilitation. “Sparking bards” can only mean computer programmers who routinely get carpal tunnel disease. Of course it goes without saying that Bunny and I are the pair “thought to have thrown away their lives” by quitting stable, decent jobs. But the Chorris remained a mystery. That is, until Bear solved that puzzle in southern Maine.
Nostradamus was usually a bit off in his names. He called Hitler, Hisler. Surely his dumbass cousin did the same with Good Chip Norris, Chorris. “The giant serpent defeater”—he was bitten by a snake which later died. It was then that I KNEW this prophecy was about us. The final statement is the clinch point. The “giant antler must pass” which means as long as GCN hikes with us, we will be safe, but we will not see a moose. That leaves us only two options: 1) continue hiking with GCN and forget about seeing a moose, but complete the AT safely, or 2) we must kill GCN. There can be no middle ground. I’m trying to decide. I know Bunny really wants to see a moose and, really, I hardly know this guy. We’ve still got a week.
This was what was going through my mind on this somber day as we continued along the ridge over the Chairback Mountsins. We were about to enter another roller coaster even greater in scale than what we experienced in Northern VA. My wife was bummed about not seeing a moose which I knew was not possible because of who we were hiking with. Although Good Chip Norris doesn’t hike the Appalachian Trail, the Appalachian Trail aligns itself with Good Chip Norris. Bunny was leading the way after Chairback Fourth Mountain heading up to the ledges when she slowed. She yelled back to everyone to not trust the logs in the puddle ahead. She made it across without incident. I listened and navigated the puddle as well, but GCN chose to ignore Bunny’s warning.
GCN stepped solidly on the log and went in up to his knee. It was then that I knew, no matter how much Bunny wanted to see a moose, I could not kill GCN. He’s funny. I enjoy being around him. He even started singing with us yesterday. He was, more than ever, family. But most importantly, he’s the only one of us with decent cell coversge (note to self, we need to sign up for Verizon before we start the PCT). We were at the 2100 mile mark and GCN is not just some stinking, low-life section hiker, he’s been out here always within a couple days of us. I’ll just have to get Bear to do it.
We continued through Maine’s version of the roller coaster for the rest of the day. The rain from yesterday had intensified the fall colors. We stopped at Chairback Gap Lean-to for a late lunch. I tried to get Bear aside to ask him for “a favor” but then Bunny said “ I give up on these damn moose. I don’t think they even exist.” Chip was safe. I won’t have to visit Bear in prison next year. We’ll be able to start the PCT without being delayed for the trial. It’s a win-win for everyone. I gave GCN a knuckle bump after lunch with him thinking I was just impressed by the beautiful fall colors. Sweet, innocent, Chorris.
No decision had been reached as to where we are going to stay tonight. While climbing down off of the Chairbacks, the people out front (not Sassy or me) managed to lose the trail going through a boulder field. Sassy and I had been hanging back watching everyone scramble around and climb over huge boulders thinking “this can’t be right.” When GCN said they’d lost the trail, Sassy looked to her left and saw the blaze they had missed. Slow and Steady as she Sashays Yon. We were the first ones down.
It was approaching dusk as we came upon Katahdin Iron Works Road. We had seen there might be a house a couple miles down the road that takes in hikers but there isn’t a shuttle (and there’s no cell service, not even Verizon). Bear got to the road and flagged down an RV, the only vehicle we saw all night as it turned out. He was going west and we wanted to go east. He said if we were going west, he’d give us a ride but he couldn’t turn around. We didn’t want to go west. He said sorry, he’s going west, not east. This is how the conversation went for about 15 minutes. In the end, we were all well aware of which direction was east and which was west.
Rather than hike on, we just decided to find the first stealth site we could find. There was a Brook to our left that we could get water from. It wasn’t 100 yards before we saw an old roadbed (swail, if you will. I know. This is one of my father-in-law’s hobbies) that was flat enough that we could set our tents up in. For a twist, I let Bunny get water with Sassy while Bear and I performed homemaker duties. It was dark before we were in bed. I could have been a stay at home dad.
EFG