The Fifth Hiker

          After a quick one night stay at the awesome and relaxing Green Mountain House in Manchester Center, Vermont, owner Jeff Taussig was kind enough to drop me back off by the trail on route 11 and 30.  I had studied the Doppler radar online at his hostel and hoped that the big green mass of cold precipitation wouldn't hit me that day.  Just 10 minutes into my hike that green blob paid me a visit.  As I made way to Stratton Pond, there were warning signs that the pond had swelled and covered the trail.  I was to follow the ribbons sporadically placed on trees instead of the usual white blazes.

            The trail turned into a stream with the current coming at me as I fought to get to the Stratton Pond Shelter for over 10 miles.  The temperature was cool and the rain was colder.  Every drop felt like hail and I had a new kind of rain for Forrest Gump to talk about.  "And there was big ole angry cold rain, Jennaaaaay."  I immediately stripped down all of my clothes at the shelter and changed to avoid hypothermia.  There were two other men bundled up and not going anywhere fast.  I dried off, changed socks, had a snack and waited for the rain the stop.  It kept coming with stronger winds.

            I didn't have time to only do 10 miles that day.  I mentally pumped myself up and headed up Stratton Mountain as the two men shook their heads in disbelief.  I climbed 1,500 more feet in the stream covered path to reach the pine covered peak.  There was a calm at the top that I didn't expect, but it was nice not to have a howling wind, evil rain and a liquid current constantly coming at my aching body.  The path turned to soft pine needles as I passed the firetower at the top with a spiderweb of trails going in several directions.  I found my white blaze on a tree and smiled.  Charlie Mike.

Fire tower atop Stratton Mountain

            The stream started back up as I descended Stratton and headed 7 more miles to Story Spring shelter.  The rain stopped for a short period and then came back as a sprinkle.  The trail was still flooded in most parts and my feet ached from being pruned for most of the hike.  I did get to see a tiny, bright orange lizard the size of my thumb. 

"Don't step on it!" an old man hollared while standing near it with his family.

"Ok," nice to meet you too there, Assclown.

I finally arrived at the shelter after hiking over 21 miles in the cold, wet and wind.  The shelter was supposed to be able to fit 8 people, but I saw that the five hikers already there would make 6 a more realistic number.  Now, I've been bitching and whining about this day for a reason.  I was exhausted and miserable and knew I had to get up early again and repeat it.  Keep that in mind as I approached the shelter's inhabitants.

"Hey guys," I said to the group.

"Hey man," one hiker said.

 

Where the fifth hiker met 'MERICA!

Hiker etiquette says that upon seeing a weary hiker come up to you, you should offer some space for that hiker to rest.  This group was smoking a lot of weed so I just helped them figure it out while they were in their slower state of mind.

"Mind if I crash here for the night?" I retorically asked.

"Oh! Yeeeeah mannnn, come on in," the same hiker responded.

            On the right side of the shelter, a hiker had hung a hammock diagonally over 4 other hikers.  A fifth hiker was on the opposite side against the wall so I could fit between the hammock and the fifth hiker.  Nobody was moving the random collection of clothes and gear that were in my way.

"Is it ok if I move this stuff over a little?" I asked.

"Uhhh, that's not ours."

            At this point I realized the mystery fifth hiker was not with the others and I found it strange that although he was awake reading a book, chose not to chime in.

"Excuse me, man. Is all this stuff yours?" I redirected my questioning as I stood there shaking from being cold and wet.

No response.

"Excuse me, hiker in the corner. May I slide your stuff over so I can come in and dry off?"

Nothing. The other hikers just looked as my rage boiled over.  This is when things got real for the fifth hiker.

"HEY! HIKER IN THE CORNER OF THE SHELTER INSIDE HIS NICE, COZY, DRY AND WARM SLEEPING BAG WHO'S READING A BOOK WITH HIS GLASSES ON!!!"

The other hikers all flinched and stared at the fifth hiker as I grabbed a pair of his sandles and threw them at him.

"MOVE YOUR SHIT OVER RIGHT FUCKING NOW!!!"

            That wasn't very mature of me as I could have simply moved his stuff over quietly, but I am a man of principle and he wasn't trying to help a fellow hiker.  His lack of action for another human being was unconciable to me and he had to know that.  My aggressive approach got results though as he put his book down, grabbed all of his remaining items and rolled over facing the wall.  He created the awkward situation of sleeping next to a crazy ginger-bearded person after essentially being a dick.  He didn't move the rest of the night and when I left in the morning he was still in the exact same position.  I was fired up after this so I was a little extra boistrous with the other hikers for a while for intimidation purposes.

"Hey man, you wanna hit this bowl?" the same friendly hiker asked after my tirade, knowing I could use a way to relax.

"Thanks man, but I'm going eat and get some sleep. I apologize ahead of time for waking up so early."

"No prob, man, we're not gonna be able to hear anything! Haha heeeee! Night mannn."

"Night guys!"