Bezabor: Creep-out on the trail (posted from home)

Friday, 13 January – Today is a recovery day from yesterday’s hike. I woke with surprisingly little pain or stiffness for so rocky a trail but I also didn’t feel like I’d want to do it again today. I drove into town to the farmer’s market in search of fresh crabmeat for an upcoming dinner with friends but came up empty--- that’s a tough one this time of year. But I did pick up some more of that fantastic fresh orange juice. I remembered that I wanted an extra battery for my cell phone and went into Office Max. They didn’t have cell phone batteries but I found sale prices on a 256K compact flash chip for my digital camera (for $19) and, of all things, a $75 Spanish course for a fire-sale price of $8. I spent the late afternoon and evening on the web and updating my blog.

Thursday, 12 January- With today’s temperature supposed to reach the high Fifties, I decided I’d better get out into the woods while I had a chance to enjoy it in such nice weather. I decided I’d ride the Concours up to the Appalachian Trail parking lot along PA 850 west of Marysville, PA and hike up to my geocache on Cove Mountain and check that all is well. This geocache lies in the middle of an eight-mile segment of the Appalachian Trail and can be approached from either end. I chose to approach from the south so I’d have the sun on me for most of the trip (http://www.geocaching.com/seek/cache_details.aspx?guid=f524a4d7-8b45-4d13-bc35-9304e5e1435e). I started hiking at 1145 and arrived back at the bike at 1730 and amounted to about seven miles of hiking, mostly on very rocky trail. Through the afternoon I met four other people in the woods--- two backpackers who were section-hiking the eight-mile section southbound from Duncannon, a dayhiker who characterized himself as a greenhorn and was trying to find an easier way to Hawk Rock (this ain’t it!) and then there was “Gypsy Wind”. I ran into Gypsy Wind just a quarter-mile or so from the parking lot. I noticed his tent pitched along the trail and yelled a hello as I approached to avoid startling him as he sat by the campfire ring preparing lunch while listening to a radio news channel. We chatted for a few minutes and I noticed that I didn’t really get direct answers to my questions about where he came from, how long he had been on the trail, etc. I’m sure he at first told me he was southbound but then when I mentioned things north of our position he started talking about being a trail runner (trail maintenance worker) ‘at Eastman’, which turned out to be in the Smokies. I couldn’t get a sense of where he had come from or where he was going but then again it was none of my business; he certainly didn’t know me and perhaps he was just guarding his privacy.
When I asked him what his trail name is, he replied “Gypsy Wind”, then said, “Well, actually it’s ‘Firefighter’” and told a rambling story about a friend figuring out that he was on the trail and would be listening to a specific radio station so his friend dedicated a song with the message that he was giving Gypsy Wind a new name, Firefighter. Odd, no?
It was at that point that it dawned on me that daylight was a-wastin’--- I needed to get moving since I had gotten a late start for these shorter days. The hike was great—I was very relaxed and walking at a leisurely pace. Even the climb up the steepest part of the trail didn’t seem bad at all. I was carrying only a small daypack and just enjoying the day. At the power-line break I met two south-bound backpackers but they were in a rush; I learned only that they had come from Duncannon and they claimed the trail section was the worst they had ever been on--- but that was probably a function of their stupenda-gihugic overstuffed backpacks and their rush to finish. I believe the Ford pickup with Virginia tags (the only other vehicle in the parking lot) was their shuttle vehicle for this section of trail.
All was well with the geocache box but the trail of clues leading to it had a small problem; I made an interim change to address the problem but I’ll need to go back up there and do a more permanent job of it. But I was running out of time for today.
I arrived back at Gypsy Wind/Firefighter’s campsite a little before dark. I again hailed him as I approached and as I walked up on him I heard the radio news still going and asked if there was any news. In retrospect that was a mistake; he started out slowly, telling me that the news is all a fake—there are people manipulating the news and manipulating innocent people. He said he had an example and asked if I remembered the Bay of Pigs. He said he was in third grade at that time and was manipulated by a neighbor boy. He first told of having been invited to the boy’s house to play. His new friend brought out model cars which he then proceeded to ‘blow up’ (presumably with cherry-bombs) in their front yard. When our protagonist asked if he could have one of the models rather than let it be destroyed, his host turned on him and yelled at him and the boy’s mother, who had been watching all this, made him go home (yeah, I know, what does THIS have to do with anything?). The next year, in fourth grade, was when the problem happened. One day at home in the Indianapolis area he was having lunch and watching one of his favorite TV shows, Bozo’s Circus. He knew that at ten minutes to twelve, at the start of the Grand March, he had to leave for school so he could make it on time. On this one day, he noticed that the boy who had invited him over to blow up model cars and then rebuked him for wanting to take one, met him along the way and the boys walked along in silence about three-quarters of the way. About eight steps from Gypsy Wind’s classroom, the boy said “The president has been shot.” He (Gypsy Wind) didn’t believe it at first and said something ridiculous like “I guess he wasn’t wearing his safety helmet, hunh?”. Gypsy Wind then realized he was serious and started to cry, then entered the classroom. There his teacher said, “James, what’s wrong?” (my first indication that his given name was James). He told the teacher, who directed him to go over to his desk and put his head down and rest a little. The teacher then rolled a television into the room on a cart. This was the first time Jim had seen this. She turned on the TV and changed the channels but there weren’t any stations—then he (Jim) said, “well, Bozo’s Circus was still on”. About 1:30, a newscaster broke in--- Jim said he thought it was Walter Cronkite--- to say that the president had just been shot. Jim noted that he didn’t think too much of it at the time because he was upset, but then, in the 90’s he was thinking about something and suddenly realized he had been set up by the boy. The boy knew about the president being shot before it happened and by telling Jim, he ruined Jim’s life because ---- he now realized--- that’s why all the kids and other people would talk about him behind his back for years to come; they thought he knew about the presidential assassination before it happened.
As you can imagine, I was by that time wondering how the heck I was going to get out of there. I tried to casually look around to see if there was anything near him he might use as a weapon—and, come to think of it--- if there was anything within MY reach that I might use to defend myself if necessary. No on both counts.
Jim didn’t seem to be agitated, but he was certainly very earnest. He spoke like he was sharing a secret with me and I just thought that I didn’t want to get him upset.
That morning, I had noticed some pieces of paper, about 6 x 8 or so, that had been printed on with a sharpie or magic marker. My impression was they were an organized list of some type but it seemed odd they’d be in such large, dark print. And I think they had exclamation points and underlining. Now, with darkness approaching quickly, I noticed some of these papers propped up against the side of the tent, only about two or three high and only two rows of them but positioned so as to be seen from the campfire ring area (Jim was sitting facing the tent from across the campfire ring). I decided I sure didn’t want to be caught reading those pages; I didn’t want to take any chances on getting him thinking I had been sent to spy on him.
I thought I’d just let him wind down a little and then make my excuses but he started down a new path. It started out “Most people don’t realize how interconnected all this stuff is”. He then open the first finger of his fist. “You see, the name of my school was Melton. And one of the teachers there as named Martin” (and now he opens another finger) “and that’s when the song ‘Louie, Louie’ came out…” (another finger) “and I had a girl friend named Lewis.” (another finger) “and the boy’s name was, guess what?-- Elkins-- Rick Elkins--- and there was this [something I don’t remember now] named King. Don’t you see? Martin Luther King!”
At that point I broke in and said he had certainly given me something to think about but I had to go. He quickly said something like “And they’re all suppressing my inventions. Ever hear of the GM Vortec V6? That was me”, he said, pointing to himself with his thumb. I said, “Wow, that’s amazing” and started walking away. As I walked away I wished him a good night and said it was supposed to be another warm day tomorrow and, said “wow, you have a beautiful full moon tonight, it should be really nice but I’ve gotta get home” and purposefully kept walking, listening very carefully for any sounds behind me. But on my last glance back, he just waved a friendly goodbye wave….
But I still listened, very, very carefully for any sound behind me as I hiked back to my bike.

Once back on my bike, I was fine and headed on home in the cool, dark night with a spectacular full moon rising ahead of me. Labashi had gone to visit a friend for the day so I when I got home I started watching a video I didn’t think she’d be interested in—“The Long Way Round”. It’s a tv special about Ewan MacGregor and Charlie Boorman’s motorcycle trip from London to New York via an easterly route. I watched two episodes before she came home and then she joined me in watching the third.

Epilogue: OK, so as I was writing this up I thought “gee, I wonder whether I can find anything on Bozo’s Circus and the Grand March and what time of day was it when Kennedy was shot?”. A Google search found Bozo’s Circus and confirmed that it did indeed have a Grand March about ten minutes from the end of each episode. According to the Museum of Broadcast Communications: The first word came over the television airwaves at 1:40 P.M. EST when CBS News anchorman Walter Cronkite broke into As the World Turns with an audio announcement over a bulletin slide: "In Dallas, Texas, three shots were fired at President Kennedy's motorcade in downtown Dallas. The first reports say that President Kennedy has been seriously wounded by this shooting."





Wednesday, 11 January- I swam this morning, again doing 250-yards-worth of laps, then spending the rest of the hour in 13-foot section of the diving pool. The 250 yards is a bit of a strain --- meaning that I switch to the diving pool at that point because I’m getting overheated and my strokes are deteriorating in form enough to tell me I’d better get out of there before I drown! In the diving pool, I first just relax a little with a drownproofing technique I learned years ago in my first round of SCUBA training—mostly just hanging feet-down and head-down in the water and lifting my head out of the water only enough to breathe. After I’ve cooled off a bit, then I slowly swim sets of a few laps at a time across the pool, interspersed with several forms of treading water and aquacise and a few breath-holding exercises.
After returning home I spent the rest of the rainy day taking care of a lunch appointment and doing some research on the internet on this rainy day. That evening we watched the movie “Me and You and Everyone We Know” with John Hawkes and Miranda July. It was quite an odd, quirky movie but we thoroughly enjoyed it.