Date: 2010-10-21
To: View Entry
Miles today: 0.0

I stepped on a snake. I was hiking along merrily minding my buisness and than I stepped on a snake. The whole thing transpired in 3 seconds. Worst 3 seconds of my life. They say the average thru hiker on the AT takes 5 million steps, so lets assume i've taken 3 million. Three million times my feet have hit the ground. I know what "ground" feels like, and my foot had not hit "ground". There was a guy in NY who told me that snakes are terrified of humans. Bologne. I would like someone to hook a snake to a cardiac monitor and see if it goes into atrial fibrillation when it sees me, the way I do when i see it. If I saw two snakes certainly I would go into a fatal heart rythm and require cardioversion or worse.So it all transpired in a few seconds. It went something like this.......Hmmmm...that doesn't feel like ground under my foot....(insert 6 explitives).....Snake hiss with tongue thingy.....its a freakin Copperhead......my heart rate 400 million beats per minute.....jump back a little and redirect snake with trekking pole as it tries to strike me.....now I gain confidence.......stomp on snake behind head and hold it there with my foot.....drive the working end of my trekking pole through its little snake head.....watch as helpless snake slithers its last slither......place my other foot on tail end of snake, reach down with trusty pocket knife and cut snake in half just to be sure.......put snake head in zip lock baggy to show my friends what I had done.George Washington I am not....that was all a lie. I saw a snake and almost stepped on it. I screamed louder than an 11 year old girl at a Justin Bieber concert. I got more air than Michael Jordan jumping back six feet.....I looked at the snake and begged and pleaded.....can we talk about this? Snake slithered into woods......and than....I cried.Hitch hiking is an essential part of hiking the trail. Very rarely does the trail actually dump you off right inside a town with everything you need. It usually drops you off about 5 or 6 miles down the road. I hate hitch hiking; its not even that familiar to me being from New Jersey where it is illegal and would almost certainly result in your death. My first hitch was in Rangely Maine. We all piled into the back of pick up truck who was nice enough to pick us up. Tater sat up front with the driver that was smoking weed. You can't be picky when your begging for a ride. I hitched out of Rangely by myself. When your hitching, you almost want to hold up a sign with your intentions "REALLY SMELLY HIKER REQUEST RIDE TO TOWN...BEWARE I REALLY SMELL, AND THANK YOU FOR YOUR GRACIOUSNESS".....or "JUST SHOWERED IN TOWN LAST NIGHT, NEED RIDE BACK TO TRAIL HEAD, AND IM NOT EVEN A BUM BECAUSE I HAVE A REALLY NICE CAR IN MY DRIVEWAY BACK HOME". I used to profile the cars coming. This turned out to be a mistake. I originally would be looking for only dudes in pick up trucks. That way I could get in the back without stinking up the cab. After a while you just start sticking your thumb out for everything...after you wait long enough. In fact, i've even started dancing at times while hitching. So back to my first hitch....after an hour I was losing hope and wondering how the 8 mile walk back to the trail was going to feel. Just than a silver Toyota FJ cruiser pulled up. When I got to the window I was stunned to find a very attractive woman in her mid 30's. She was dressed professionally, and as I told her where I was trying to go she started to laugh and said "I know", as she extended her hand and introduced herself. When I got into the car she laughed and said "you dont even smell, I was prepared for the worst". She drove me the 8 miles back to the trail head despite the fact that it was well out of her way to a meeting. We made great conversation and had quite a few laughs. Turns out that she had a couple of friends that had thru hiked. They always make her pick up thru hikers explaining how hard it is to get a hitch, and now she doesnt even hesitate.Yesterday when I got to the road leading to Waynesboro an older lady pulled up across the way. She asked if I needed a ride (I hadnt even put my thumb up yet), and I imagined that God himself must have just dropped this car complete with old lady form the heavens. She started explaining that her son had thru hiked in 1996, and had told her if she sees a hiker with a pack along this road its ok to pick them up. Her son Jeff (trail named Okeepa) died three weeks ago of a brain tumor. He was 40 and was a biology researcher at UVA I could tell that this was a special encounter, and having a smelly hiker was in some way thereapuetic to her. She began to tell some of his stories, and recounted things he had told her about the trail and his friends. It is ironic that she was only in the area to take care of some buisness regarding her death, and that she actually lives about an hour away. It was at that very spot on the road where she had picked him up from the trail that he explained it was ok to pick up hikers with packs. I thanked her for the ride, told her that she and her family would be in my prayers and thanked God for such an encounter. I love the song by Tim McGraw called "Live like you were dying". I can't imagine dying when i'm 40 and not having this checked off my bucket list. I am intimately aware of the indifference of death, but sometimes you can forget that it is coming one day.....I think sometimes things happen to remind us to use our time wisely. I am thankful that at the age of 26, Jeff lived like he was dying....because he was.....we all are.