Date: 2004-06-23
From: Fullhardt Gap Shelter

To: It's a Conspiracy!
Miles today: 13.5

Last night was supposedly ideal for sleeping, with a cool breeze pushing out the sticky humidity that had prevailed earlier in the evening. But in spite of the nice weather, I slept poorly. The reason for my lousy sleep was that my new, summer sleeping bag did not keep me warm enough. I hope that I have not made a mistake in purchasing a sleeping bag with a temperature rating of 50 degrees. I hiked for part of the morning and encountered a woman camped on the side of the trail near a rural road crossing. She was sitting on a hammock and eating from a pot. Her tent was oversized for one person and I wondered if there were other people inside of it. A large tarp was erected over the tent. Another tarp was strapped to a tree beside the hammock. I stopped to chat with her. She introduced herself as Margaret and indicated that she was camping alone. She asked me if there was water in the cistern at the Fullhardt Shelter. I replied that the water at that location was murky.She told me that each night, the same bear had been rummaging through a nearby trash barrel where the road crossed. She seemed anxious to have someone to talk to, and told me she had been encamped by at that spot for three days. Our discussion topic shifted and she told me that she was an author who had published a non fiction book; it was an expose about the practices of surgeons in hospitals. Then she expressed her concern about an emerging "New World Order." I asked her to define the concept."It's the Kennedys and the Rockefellers," she said.After making that remark, she made some statements that I found odd. She claimed that doctors are placing computer chips into their patients as part of a conspiracy."They're making us puppets," she said. She said that when her book was published, Larry Flint, the publisher of pornographic media, invited her to California for an interview. She claimed that one of his limo drivers was an agent with the British Intelligence Service. She made some other claims that I considered far fetched, and returned to the theme about the danger of this New World Order. But she could never provide me with a clear definition of this New World Order. A few years ago, I had heard this term mentioned in articles about survivalist groups. This woman, I think, was seeing conspiracies around every tree in the woods. This so called New World Order was the root of the conspiracies that she perceived.Messy Garage and his teenage nephew arrived. With Margaret listening, I asked him if he was familiar with the expression, New World Order. He replied that it was a promotional gimmick that had been used by the World Wrestling Federation. Actually, his answer was true, but the wrestling industry had used the phrase because it had already become known for other reasons which I do not understand.Margaret shook her head and told us that were sadly naive, just like most people were. She then claimed that in 1939, when she was two years old, she had been kidnapped in England on the orders of Joe Kennedy, the American ambassador to that country and the patriarch of the famous Kennedy family.I had heard enough. We said goodbye to Margaret and resumed our hikes.The trail led us to a gushing stream where we re-filled out water bottles. There, we lingered and observed minnows and crawfish moving about in pools of water. When I rinsed out a bandana in a pool, the fish swam up and nipped at the edges of the bandana. It began to rain after I departed from the stream. When that happened, I placed my shoes and hiking socks into my backpack and placed on my feet the neoprene socks and sandals.Twice, the trail cut across the outer roads of the Blue Ridge Parkway. These scenic, non commercial use roads were almost devoid of vehicular traffic, perhaps on account of the inclement weather. The scenic overlooks were socked in by clouds.Late in the day, I arrived at the Bobblet's Gap Shelter. The site was brushy, sloped, and unappealing. But it would have to do. I decided to forgo the hammock and sleep in the shelter. The other hikers at this place were Shivers, Susan, Messy Garage and his teenage nephew, Robert.I unshouldered my backpack and beelined over to the outhouse. A bad odor greeted me as I got close. Inside, I observed that the toilet was different; this one was stainless steel. The bowl looked like a large metal pail in an upside down position. The seat was also steel.I sat down and did my thing. When I was finished, I stood back up. To my surprise, the toilet seat¢the entire seat, hinges and all¢lifted up off the bowl and remained stuck to my buttocks. Talk about weird! This development took the port a potty concept into a new direction. Then the toilet seat fell back down, crashing against the bowl and landing on the floor. What a noisy racket. It was heavy metal thunder in an outhouse. For sanitary reasons, I do not like touching the surfaces of toilets in outhouses. Reluctantly, I lifted up the fallen toilet seat and placed it back on the hopper. I think it had become stuck to me because my rear end had been damp from sweat and rain.Some people hike during below freezing temperatures early in the year. Imagine them having to sit on a cold steel toilet seat? Whose idea was it to install a metallic toilet in an outhouse on the Appalachian Trail? It must be a conspiracy by the Rockefellers and the Kennedy¢s. No, scratch that notion. It's the Carnegies, those steel industry magnates, who are to blame. Just kidding.