Beth Green's Blog - Posts Tagged "secret"
Secret book ... next chapter
Chapter 2: Starting the Adventure
We started our hike four days ago in Tennessee and decided to do a variety of trails, camping each night and planning to complete them all in four days. Sam had picked the route and we approved them only by his descriptions; but I was more than a little excited about leaving. My boss had been generous with the schedule and allowed me work seven straight days and then make up some more hours by taking extra shifts when I returned. My grandmother had been terrible. I didn’t tell her I was leaving until the day before and she was ticked. There was nothing she could really do anyway, so I just let her yell for a little bit until she had a coughing fit and had to settle down. She’d be alright and I really didn’t care anymore. I still needed her for a place to stay until I could leave for good. If she kicked me out over this, I didn’t really have anywhere to go and I should’ve been more sensitive to her threats; but I really wanted to go on this trip.
My mind drifted through a variety of subjects as we drove over the mountains to Pigeon Forge. We tanked up on pancakes and bacon before meeting an old friend of Sam’s named Dana that lived in the area and who took us to the first trail head, promising to return to the end of our last trail in four days to pick us up and take us back into town. I noticed Dana staring at Sam several times but he never showed any sign of interest in her and I couldn’t grasp what underlying emotional current was flowing between them; but I was fairly certain that they had a somewhat complicated history. She was pretty and fit and someone that I would definitely have wanted to see more of if I were in town. Knowing Sam, he had probably made use of her when it was convenient and tossed her aside as easily as an old pair of shoes. I’d seen him do that more than once.
“So what trails are you guys hiking?” Dana pretended not to care that Sam was aloof but I could sense she was struggling with her composure.
Jake piped up to try to answer the question, failing miserably. “I think we’re going to do Newfound Brush or something like that.”
“You mean Newfound Gap?” Dana’s eyes sparkled as she stifled a laugh.
“Yeah yeah. That’s it. Newfound Gap.”
“Are you heading up to LeConte?”
Mt. LeConte is the third highest mountain peak in the Smokies at 6593 ft high and is the sixth highest peak on the entire Appalachian Trail.
“We are taking the Boulevard over to there and maybe doing Rainbow and Brushy Mountain and as much other stuff as we can fit in.”
I tried to sound as if I knew what it all meant; but I had only glanced at the map, something I would regret later.
“Well, that’s a lot of ground to cover and some beautiful scenery. I hope you have good weather. Brushy Mountain is one of my favorites.” She glanced at Sam and then continued, “Looks like maybe some rain a couple of days from now but only scattered showers.” Dana watched Sam again, but he just continued to work on his pack as if it needed his undying attention.
“Cool,” I answered and immediately regretted it.
Stupid. What a stupid thing to say. Who says ‘cool’ anymore?
Dana looked at me and flashed a smile. Her dark brown eyes seemed to draw me in and I tried unsuccessfully to keep myself together, as I stumbled over my pack and barely kept my footing. She seemed amused at my demeanor while I struggled to seem nonchalant.
“Well, I’ll see you boys in four days at 5:00 PM sharp at the Rainbow Falls trailhead entrance.”
Sam finally turned toward her and gave her a sideways hug as if she were contagious. “Thanks, Dana. See you soon.” He gave his half-hearted fake smile and rolled his eyes at us as he turned away.
Watching her drive away was both exciting and weirdly sad. I still had high hopes and a long list of thoughts to sort out on the trail. There was no way to know at that time that I’d spend most of the next few days thinking how stupid these other two guys could be and the days after that just trying to survive.
My old backpack was not as sleek as theirs and was somewhat bulky in comparison; but I had worked hard to organize the items I’d deemed necessary to take. After tugging on some straps, I was able to get it to sit well and stay put. Jake and Sam were arguing over something and I stood and walked around with my pack, continuing to adjust it until I was satisfied. The parking lot had a few scattered cars and I wondered about the people on the trails and where they were all from. There were several different states represented and it reminded me of a game we used to play when we came here in the good years — the ones before my parents changed. I remember my mom carrying a notepad and she would keep track of all the license plates from all the different states we saw while we were here. On the last trip I remember, we had 38 states, including one car from Alaska. That was 10 years ago now and so much had changed, including my mom and dad.
An old man moved out of the woods and headed right toward where we stood at the trail head. Jake and Sam were busy finishing their last preparations as the old man drew closer. His gait was steady as he glided down the trail with the expertise of one who had been hiking his whole life. In each hand, he carried a pole and I smiled as I thought about how stupid I used to think poles were until I began to carry one myself. My pole was nothing more than a collapsable stick I’d purchased back home before the trip and was my only new purchase. In my younger days when my family used to come here, I had learned the importance of a pole during one of our longer hikes.
“Did you hear about those hikers that’re missing?” The old man said as he drew closer. He wore long pants and a long sleeve shirt and spoke with authority as if he was permanently stationed on the trail.
Sam took the lead and answered, “No, where were they hiking?”
The man eyed each one of us carefully as he spoke, “Right out there,” he said and pointed a crooked finger toward the mountains as he swept his arm across to indicate the entire area. A thin smile crossed his lips as he continued, “They said it was a group of four teenagers that came out here to hike and camp for a few days. No one’s seen or heard from them in days.” His eyes moved from me to the other two.
“Strange.” Sam looked back at us and widened his eyes to indicate he thought the man was off his rocker.
“Does that happen a lot around here,” Jake asked, trying to hide the nervousness in his voice.
The man’s eyes bore into Jake as he answered, “Only if people don’t stay where they belong. There’re things out there you don’t wanna ever run into if you wanna live.”
Jake looked away, visibly uncomfortable and I finally spoke, “Like what? Bears?”
I wasn’t scared of a bear but I knew not to confront one either. My mind quickly reviewed some old stories of visitors coming here and trying to pet or feed them and receiving a swat across the face or head, which translates into a serious injury or death in most cases. My grandmother used to scoff every time one of those stories aired on the news. She would say something like “stupid tourists”. I didn’t often agree with her; but on this point, she was dead on right. Someone who approaches a wild animal should almost expect an injury.
This time, the old man’s face changed. He looked like he’d seen a ghost and I wasn’t really sure what that meant. When he spoke, his voice was soft and low, “I wish it was only that simple…” His voice trailed off but he quickly cleared his throat and continued, “Anyway, where are you boys headed?”
Sam rattled off the names of the trails we hoped to hit and a few of the campsites. The old man nodded and listened intently like he understood our route but I couldn’t help feeling uneasy about his persona. Something about him wasn’t exactly right. He looked like a mountaineer at first glance but my gut told me there was something wrong. His accent was different than the hard southern slant of most locals. It was more than the accent, though, it was his eyes … something in them was entirely wrong.
The old man spoke again, “Well, be careful out there. Those mountains are as dangerous as they are beautiful.”
We all nodded and he turned and moved away from us down a small walkway to the restrooms by the parking lot. I wanted to stay and see where he went when he came out of the bathroom; but Sam was already walking up the trail. Jake scurried behind him like a lost puppy and I turned on my heel to follow.
By the time we were huffing up the first trail, the sun was already burning off the morning clouds and I was glad we were at an elevation where the temperatures should stay pleasant and not too hot.
“That old guy was creepy.” Jake puffed as he tried to keep pace with Sam.
“He’s harmless. I’ll bet he goes into town every day and laughs with his buddies about how he scares the hikers up here.”
I wasn’t so sure. “Maybe he’s telling the truth.”
Sam stopped and turned to face us. “Seriously? We haven’t even walked a quarter of a mile and you guys are already scared?”
“No, not scared. Just trying to be smart.” My voice sounded strong but my mind was less convinced.
Sam laughed and started walking again. “Geez, Ben, you sound like an old man yourself.”
Jake laughed and stayed close to Sam. I stayed back a few steps and took my time, knowing we had a long day ahead of us.
We made it up a long trail that had a stopping point at one of the shelters along the Appalachian Trail. The structure was made of stones walls on three sides with an open front. A large tarp had been strung across the opening to give some protection from the elements. The floors were wooden and there was a built in bunk area. Inside we found a notebook with entries from hikers that had passed through here. I sat and read a few while Sam and Jake ate a snack and laid back on the bunks to rest.
“We should just stay here. This would be awesome,” Jake said, obviously still thinking about what the old man had told us.
Sam kept his eyes closed as he spoke, “We have a long way to go before we stop for the day.” Without warning he sat up and said, “We need to get going.”
“Just a second,” I grabbed the small pencil that was attached by string to the notebook. “What should we call ourselves?”
“What do you mean?” Jake asked.
“Every hiker in here has a nickname. It’s kind of a tradition on the trail.”
“Sam paused a minute and simply said, “The Survivors.”
Jake nodded and smiled.
“Sounds good to me.” I wrote a simple note inside on the last open page: ‘The Survivors were here.’
Sam grabbed the notebook and pencil and quickly sketched a fist beside the entry.
“I didn’t know you could draw! That’s awesome.” I looked at his drawing, which had seemed effortless.”
Sam seemed uncomfortable and brushed past me to the outside. “Well, it doesn’t matter.”
I followed outside and decided to let it rest. We hiked for a few more hours, stopping to eat and take in the scenery along the way. A few places were worth some extra time for pictures as well and we each took our time loading our phones with them. Within a few stops, though, our picture taking waned a bit and we settled into a more rhythmic pace.
That first night was quiet, as we camped alongside the trail. Several times, I thought I heard animals moving around us; but I didn’t say anything. Our packs were hung securely in the trees to discourage the bears and we were all snug in our tents. The words of the old man rumbled through my thoughts until I drifted off to sleep. Thirty yards away, something was watching; but we had no idea we weren’t alone.
We started our hike four days ago in Tennessee and decided to do a variety of trails, camping each night and planning to complete them all in four days. Sam had picked the route and we approved them only by his descriptions; but I was more than a little excited about leaving. My boss had been generous with the schedule and allowed me work seven straight days and then make up some more hours by taking extra shifts when I returned. My grandmother had been terrible. I didn’t tell her I was leaving until the day before and she was ticked. There was nothing she could really do anyway, so I just let her yell for a little bit until she had a coughing fit and had to settle down. She’d be alright and I really didn’t care anymore. I still needed her for a place to stay until I could leave for good. If she kicked me out over this, I didn’t really have anywhere to go and I should’ve been more sensitive to her threats; but I really wanted to go on this trip.
My mind drifted through a variety of subjects as we drove over the mountains to Pigeon Forge. We tanked up on pancakes and bacon before meeting an old friend of Sam’s named Dana that lived in the area and who took us to the first trail head, promising to return to the end of our last trail in four days to pick us up and take us back into town. I noticed Dana staring at Sam several times but he never showed any sign of interest in her and I couldn’t grasp what underlying emotional current was flowing between them; but I was fairly certain that they had a somewhat complicated history. She was pretty and fit and someone that I would definitely have wanted to see more of if I were in town. Knowing Sam, he had probably made use of her when it was convenient and tossed her aside as easily as an old pair of shoes. I’d seen him do that more than once.
“So what trails are you guys hiking?” Dana pretended not to care that Sam was aloof but I could sense she was struggling with her composure.
Jake piped up to try to answer the question, failing miserably. “I think we’re going to do Newfound Brush or something like that.”
“You mean Newfound Gap?” Dana’s eyes sparkled as she stifled a laugh.
“Yeah yeah. That’s it. Newfound Gap.”
“Are you heading up to LeConte?”
Mt. LeConte is the third highest mountain peak in the Smokies at 6593 ft high and is the sixth highest peak on the entire Appalachian Trail.
“We are taking the Boulevard over to there and maybe doing Rainbow and Brushy Mountain and as much other stuff as we can fit in.”
I tried to sound as if I knew what it all meant; but I had only glanced at the map, something I would regret later.
“Well, that’s a lot of ground to cover and some beautiful scenery. I hope you have good weather. Brushy Mountain is one of my favorites.” She glanced at Sam and then continued, “Looks like maybe some rain a couple of days from now but only scattered showers.” Dana watched Sam again, but he just continued to work on his pack as if it needed his undying attention.
“Cool,” I answered and immediately regretted it.
Stupid. What a stupid thing to say. Who says ‘cool’ anymore?
Dana looked at me and flashed a smile. Her dark brown eyes seemed to draw me in and I tried unsuccessfully to keep myself together, as I stumbled over my pack and barely kept my footing. She seemed amused at my demeanor while I struggled to seem nonchalant.
“Well, I’ll see you boys in four days at 5:00 PM sharp at the Rainbow Falls trailhead entrance.”
Sam finally turned toward her and gave her a sideways hug as if she were contagious. “Thanks, Dana. See you soon.” He gave his half-hearted fake smile and rolled his eyes at us as he turned away.
Watching her drive away was both exciting and weirdly sad. I still had high hopes and a long list of thoughts to sort out on the trail. There was no way to know at that time that I’d spend most of the next few days thinking how stupid these other two guys could be and the days after that just trying to survive.
My old backpack was not as sleek as theirs and was somewhat bulky in comparison; but I had worked hard to organize the items I’d deemed necessary to take. After tugging on some straps, I was able to get it to sit well and stay put. Jake and Sam were arguing over something and I stood and walked around with my pack, continuing to adjust it until I was satisfied. The parking lot had a few scattered cars and I wondered about the people on the trails and where they were all from. There were several different states represented and it reminded me of a game we used to play when we came here in the good years — the ones before my parents changed. I remember my mom carrying a notepad and she would keep track of all the license plates from all the different states we saw while we were here. On the last trip I remember, we had 38 states, including one car from Alaska. That was 10 years ago now and so much had changed, including my mom and dad.
An old man moved out of the woods and headed right toward where we stood at the trail head. Jake and Sam were busy finishing their last preparations as the old man drew closer. His gait was steady as he glided down the trail with the expertise of one who had been hiking his whole life. In each hand, he carried a pole and I smiled as I thought about how stupid I used to think poles were until I began to carry one myself. My pole was nothing more than a collapsable stick I’d purchased back home before the trip and was my only new purchase. In my younger days when my family used to come here, I had learned the importance of a pole during one of our longer hikes.
“Did you hear about those hikers that’re missing?” The old man said as he drew closer. He wore long pants and a long sleeve shirt and spoke with authority as if he was permanently stationed on the trail.
Sam took the lead and answered, “No, where were they hiking?”
The man eyed each one of us carefully as he spoke, “Right out there,” he said and pointed a crooked finger toward the mountains as he swept his arm across to indicate the entire area. A thin smile crossed his lips as he continued, “They said it was a group of four teenagers that came out here to hike and camp for a few days. No one’s seen or heard from them in days.” His eyes moved from me to the other two.
“Strange.” Sam looked back at us and widened his eyes to indicate he thought the man was off his rocker.
“Does that happen a lot around here,” Jake asked, trying to hide the nervousness in his voice.
The man’s eyes bore into Jake as he answered, “Only if people don’t stay where they belong. There’re things out there you don’t wanna ever run into if you wanna live.”
Jake looked away, visibly uncomfortable and I finally spoke, “Like what? Bears?”
I wasn’t scared of a bear but I knew not to confront one either. My mind quickly reviewed some old stories of visitors coming here and trying to pet or feed them and receiving a swat across the face or head, which translates into a serious injury or death in most cases. My grandmother used to scoff every time one of those stories aired on the news. She would say something like “stupid tourists”. I didn’t often agree with her; but on this point, she was dead on right. Someone who approaches a wild animal should almost expect an injury.
This time, the old man’s face changed. He looked like he’d seen a ghost and I wasn’t really sure what that meant. When he spoke, his voice was soft and low, “I wish it was only that simple…” His voice trailed off but he quickly cleared his throat and continued, “Anyway, where are you boys headed?”
Sam rattled off the names of the trails we hoped to hit and a few of the campsites. The old man nodded and listened intently like he understood our route but I couldn’t help feeling uneasy about his persona. Something about him wasn’t exactly right. He looked like a mountaineer at first glance but my gut told me there was something wrong. His accent was different than the hard southern slant of most locals. It was more than the accent, though, it was his eyes … something in them was entirely wrong.
The old man spoke again, “Well, be careful out there. Those mountains are as dangerous as they are beautiful.”
We all nodded and he turned and moved away from us down a small walkway to the restrooms by the parking lot. I wanted to stay and see where he went when he came out of the bathroom; but Sam was already walking up the trail. Jake scurried behind him like a lost puppy and I turned on my heel to follow.
By the time we were huffing up the first trail, the sun was already burning off the morning clouds and I was glad we were at an elevation where the temperatures should stay pleasant and not too hot.
“That old guy was creepy.” Jake puffed as he tried to keep pace with Sam.
“He’s harmless. I’ll bet he goes into town every day and laughs with his buddies about how he scares the hikers up here.”
I wasn’t so sure. “Maybe he’s telling the truth.”
Sam stopped and turned to face us. “Seriously? We haven’t even walked a quarter of a mile and you guys are already scared?”
“No, not scared. Just trying to be smart.” My voice sounded strong but my mind was less convinced.
Sam laughed and started walking again. “Geez, Ben, you sound like an old man yourself.”
Jake laughed and stayed close to Sam. I stayed back a few steps and took my time, knowing we had a long day ahead of us.
We made it up a long trail that had a stopping point at one of the shelters along the Appalachian Trail. The structure was made of stones walls on three sides with an open front. A large tarp had been strung across the opening to give some protection from the elements. The floors were wooden and there was a built in bunk area. Inside we found a notebook with entries from hikers that had passed through here. I sat and read a few while Sam and Jake ate a snack and laid back on the bunks to rest.
“We should just stay here. This would be awesome,” Jake said, obviously still thinking about what the old man had told us.
Sam kept his eyes closed as he spoke, “We have a long way to go before we stop for the day.” Without warning he sat up and said, “We need to get going.”
“Just a second,” I grabbed the small pencil that was attached by string to the notebook. “What should we call ourselves?”
“What do you mean?” Jake asked.
“Every hiker in here has a nickname. It’s kind of a tradition on the trail.”
“Sam paused a minute and simply said, “The Survivors.”
Jake nodded and smiled.
“Sounds good to me.” I wrote a simple note inside on the last open page: ‘The Survivors were here.’
Sam grabbed the notebook and pencil and quickly sketched a fist beside the entry.
“I didn’t know you could draw! That’s awesome.” I looked at his drawing, which had seemed effortless.”
Sam seemed uncomfortable and brushed past me to the outside. “Well, it doesn’t matter.”
I followed outside and decided to let it rest. We hiked for a few more hours, stopping to eat and take in the scenery along the way. A few places were worth some extra time for pictures as well and we each took our time loading our phones with them. Within a few stops, though, our picture taking waned a bit and we settled into a more rhythmic pace.
That first night was quiet, as we camped alongside the trail. Several times, I thought I heard animals moving around us; but I didn’t say anything. Our packs were hung securely in the trees to discourage the bears and we were all snug in our tents. The words of the old man rumbled through my thoughts until I drifted off to sleep. Thirty yards away, something was watching; but we had no idea we weren’t alone.
