Date: 2003-08-29
From: Great Barrington, Mass.

To: La Guardia Airport, NYC
Miles today: 0.0

I suppose yesterday was the ¢first day of the rest of my life¢ after the AT. But it didn¢t feel like it. I set about my town chores in the usual way. A good breakfast in Martins (an excellent diner on Railroad St.), a visit to the laundrette where ¢Chafe Master¢ took charge, a trip to the post office, a brief visit to the library to check e-mails, and so on. It could have been any other zero day I¢ve spent in any other town over the past six months. I kept looking out for grocery stores even though I no longer needed to resupply with food. Great Barrington was a very pleasant town, with just enough bustle to make it interesting, not enough to make the place feel like hard work. Unusually, I managed a visit to a barbers shop ¢ for the first time in six weeks or more I managed to hit a town that, firstly, has a barbers shop and when, secondly, it wasn¢t a Sunday or Monday. Why should all American barbers shops be closed on a Monday? Because they are unionised is ¢Chafe¢s¢ opinion, but why should such an occupation be unionised? I¢m still quizzing people about that one (answers in the Guest Book from anyone reading this would be very welcome). Back at base, I went through my pack.   Such a strange feeling to find items that were essential to my life a week ago but are suddenly redundant. We identified a few other things that ¢Chafe¢ could use on the rest of his hike. I had a go at cleaning my backpack with a powerful sanitizer. Partly successful, some parts of the pack now smell like a hospital ward, other parts improved only marginally from the ¢severely offensive¢ to the ¢something¢s died¢ category.   ¢Bumpkin¢ was keen to take in a folk concert at the Guthrie Centre in the evening. I believe this is part of a church that was the location of both the song and the movie ¢Alice¢s Restaurant¢, made famous by folk singer Arlo Guthrie in the 1970¢s. Though keen in principle, as the time approached ¢Chafe Master J¢ and I realised we had too much beer to consume and too many phone calls still to make to have time, so we finally opted out. In the evening we spoke to ¢Dimple Rock¢ and ¢Wrong Way Brown¢ in Kansas City and learned that they have each returned to their previous jobs, back on life¢s great treadmill once more I suppose, but with, as far as I could tell, happy memories of their time on the AT. They sounded happy and it was a real pick up to talk to them, and to ¢Dimple Rock¢s¢ mum, Linda, who was so kind to us in northern Virginia.   Just before midnight, ¢Bumpkin¢ returned from her evening out, not only with ¢Mudbutt¢, but also with her husband Gerry.   A huge surprise for ¢Bumpkin¢ and she was high with excitement. Gerry, trailname ¢Papermaker¢, has hiked certain parts of the AT with her already, and arrived so that they can tackle the White Mountains in NH together. He hadn¢t let on to ¢Bumpkin¢.   In fact he had told her he wouldn¢t be able to come up because of work commitments, but had then liaised with ¢Mudbutt¢ so that they would get here together. Gerry is an interesting fellow. He runs his own business in which he is helped both by ¢Bumpkin¢ (when not hiking) and one of their children. His company is in the the preventative maintenance business. They instal and manage systems to gauge the health of industrial equipment, mainly in the paper industry, and recommend when machines need repair or components need replacement before production problems actually arise. He would be a dream candidate for the old panel game ¢What¢s My Line?¢ (from childhood memory, the first panel game ever screened on BBC back in the 1950¢s).   His job title is a ¢Non-destructive Vibration Analyst¢, surely a candidate for most unusual occupation on the AT. ¢Mudbutt¢ returned to the Trail in a much more contented frame of mind than when she left. Her family hadn¢t asked that she come home, but she found they were very grateful for her presence when she appeared.   She had a lot of bow repair work to get through, and, having done so, feels much happier about continuing her hike. This morning flew by and it was soon time to get down to the kiosk in front of Bill¢s Pharmacy and wait for the Bonanza bus to New York to draw up. ¢Bumpkin¢, Gerry and ¢Mudbutt¢ were there, but, naturally enough, saying goodbye to the ¢Chafe Master¢ was hardest. We¢ve been together, off but usually on, since early April. We met during the Smoky Mountains white out, we suffered together and by the time we came out of the Smokies, ¢Chafe¢ had become an indispensable member of our informal hiking group. His maturity, great common sense and patience have made him a solid, reliable presence that I, and others, have valued so much. His quiet sense of humour makes him very good company. He introduced me to the world of ¢Sponge Bob Square Pants¢, and his belly laughs as he watched his cartoon hero on television on our days in town will be one of my enduring memories of the Trail. He would be the first to admit that he hasn¢t got a classic hiker¢s build (¢Chafe¢ is a big guy), and has had more than his fair share of illness along the way, but he has fought through with a great ¢never-say-die¢ attitude that I admire enormously.   Above all, he is just a very decent guy, and his companionship is one of the things I will miss most. When he is standing on Mt. Katadhin, there will be a number of people in bars in Edinburgh and Leicester (where ¢Thistle¢ will be studying) in the UK celebrating the event. Goodbyes always seem to be a bit of a blur for me. The event takes place so quickly, with my mind and emotions trying and failing to catch up. I was last to board, the door closed with a swish behind me, and the bus was off. I waved energetically from the aisle and my friends receded rapidly into the distance before I had even found a seat. So many things unsaid as always.