Love those thru-hikers!

While we were in Maine, we hiked the Appalachian Trail up to Whitecap Mountain, about 4 hiking days south of Katahdin, so all the thru-hikers we met were in high spirits, anticipating good weather, and hungry.

We gave away all our food (even Pat’s sugar-free Life Savers) and had some great conversations and ended up back at the car with a young man from New Jersey. His trail name is Bowser and his parents were coming to meet him and perhaps go part of the way up with him on the last day.

He asked if we had any duct tape to repair his boots which looked like they’d expired back in New York. We had a huge roll of it, so he wrapped some around his boots and took a little more for future repairs. He had opted not to buy new boots because he wanted his parents to see how he’d lived on the trail.

BethAnn had some more banana and peanut butter sandwiches in the car and he accepted them and they disappeared in the wink of an eye, while he sighed, “The best kind of food…what you don’t have to carry!”

Then he told us how he’d carried two half coconut shells for 450 miles because he thought it was funny to start making galloping sounds while approaching a shelter and make people think there was a horse on the trail (like in Monty Python’s Holy Grail, if you’ve seen that movie). Then one day, he was packing up in the morning and looked in horror at the coconuts…”I don’t know what I was thinking! Those things weighed over a pound, and I don’t think anyone ever actually laughed.” That was the last of the coconuts.

Sweet kid. He's back home after his grandest adventure so far.

Wonderful trail magic story. Thanks for sharing.

Oh yes, AT hiker stories could entertain us for hours. Last month I was eating lunch on the ledge near Wildcat's summit, looking down on Carter Hut's rooftops below, when two young guys showed up. They were Mange & Murf --- through hikers heading north. They seemed relaxed and had a noticeable confidence that they'd be finishing soon. We shared trail stories then, finishing off my lunch, I pulled out a bag with my three homemade brownies. "Where did you get those brownies?" Mange blurted out. His expression reminded me of long days I've spent in the woods and of the cravings that brings on (mine were always for ginger-ale, ice cream and cans of Dinty Moore Beef Stew.) Of course I gave them each a brownie. They inhaled them, said their good byes, and headed for the drop off toward Carter Notch. After they left I wondered --- did I share the brownies out of generosity or out of fear for my life? ---- "You grab the brownies Murf, I'll push the old guy off the cliff!" There was that look --------------------.