June 9
Right as we were done packing up camp on the beach, our favorite person showed up. Matt was done packing, so I headed up the trail. Willie followed.
I got to hear about him losing his virginity and all about how some girl in west Virginia likes him and is waiting for him. At one point I considered jumping in the lake, knowing my pack weight would be enough to sink me to the bottom and allow me to drown.
I tried picking up the pace to get to the burger place by lunch, but it didn't happen. The walk from the trail was much longer than the 1.2 miles quoted. We made it to the dock by 12:55 and blew the airhorn. We made it across by 1:05, and when we asked about lunch, we were shot down. He gave us some crap about how they keep certain hours or else they would never get out of the kitchen. I ended up buying two cokes, an orange soda, a brownie, and some postcards. The sodas were lukewarm, since they are kept in a 1920s style fridge. The trip was not as enjoyable as I thought it would be. I was able to make some phone calls and find out the Spice Girls are reuniting. It was also nice knowing that we might not see Willie again. But we do have his email address.
There were some hippie looking kids at the place. One chick had dreadlocks, and didn't want anything to do with us. One guy with long hair thought my steripen was damaging the environment, since it ran on batteries. The other dude had two prosthetic legs and was waiting for a screw to be FedEx-ed to him so he could keep on hiking. We talked to the guy's wife for awhile. She was nice, but didn't wear a bra. We didn't judge her to harshly for that. We stayed for about an hour. When we got back to the dock, we saw Joey and his dad, George. George was excited about the cold beer. We're not sure how he felt about another night with Willie. He did tell us Willie's new trailname, which is...(drumroll)... Lone Tree.
He got this name because we hung his hammock the night before, and at some point in the middle of the night, one of the trees uprooted and fell over. He crawled in the shelter around three in the morning to sleep.
We eventually made it to the next shelter which made it an 8 mile day, not counting the 3 miles (packless) we walked (roundtrip) for invisible burgers.
As we were walking to the shelter it started to lightly rain. It got a little harder as we continued on, but we were men and soldiered on. So far there hasn't been anyone to join us, and it's not looking like there will be. The people we hung out with at Abol Bridge are about a day ahead of us. We hope to see them again, but aren't going to try and strain ourselves to catch them. After the disappointing hamburger adventure, we're looking forward to making it to Monson/Greenville and washing our clothes and taking a warm shower. Willie may try to catch up with us, but there is no chance in hell that we're sharing a hotel room with him.
Tomorrow is supposed to be an 11 mile day. The next few days we'll see a couple of mountains. I could live the rest of my life happily if I never see another rock or step into a muddy swamp again. I also think that all the mosquitoes have gathered in Maine for some sort of festival. No amount of bug spray will keep them at bay. I'm not getting bitten, but they are invading my personal space to an uncomfortable level.
I got to hear about him losing his virginity and all about how some girl in west Virginia likes him and is waiting for him. At one point I considered jumping in the lake, knowing my pack weight would be enough to sink me to the bottom and allow me to drown.
I tried picking up the pace to get to the burger place by lunch, but it didn't happen. The walk from the trail was much longer than the 1.2 miles quoted. We made it to the dock by 12:55 and blew the airhorn. We made it across by 1:05, and when we asked about lunch, we were shot down. He gave us some crap about how they keep certain hours or else they would never get out of the kitchen. I ended up buying two cokes, an orange soda, a brownie, and some postcards. The sodas were lukewarm, since they are kept in a 1920s style fridge. The trip was not as enjoyable as I thought it would be. I was able to make some phone calls and find out the Spice Girls are reuniting. It was also nice knowing that we might not see Willie again. But we do have his email address.
There were some hippie looking kids at the place. One chick had dreadlocks, and didn't want anything to do with us. One guy with long hair thought my steripen was damaging the environment, since it ran on batteries. The other dude had two prosthetic legs and was waiting for a screw to be FedEx-ed to him so he could keep on hiking. We talked to the guy's wife for awhile. She was nice, but didn't wear a bra. We didn't judge her to harshly for that. We stayed for about an hour. When we got back to the dock, we saw Joey and his dad, George. George was excited about the cold beer. We're not sure how he felt about another night with Willie. He did tell us Willie's new trailname, which is...(drumroll)... Lone Tree.
He got this name because we hung his hammock the night before, and at some point in the middle of the night, one of the trees uprooted and fell over. He crawled in the shelter around three in the morning to sleep.
We eventually made it to the next shelter which made it an 8 mile day, not counting the 3 miles (packless) we walked (roundtrip) for invisible burgers.
As we were walking to the shelter it started to lightly rain. It got a little harder as we continued on, but we were men and soldiered on. So far there hasn't been anyone to join us, and it's not looking like there will be. The people we hung out with at Abol Bridge are about a day ahead of us. We hope to see them again, but aren't going to try and strain ourselves to catch them. After the disappointing hamburger adventure, we're looking forward to making it to Monson/Greenville and washing our clothes and taking a warm shower. Willie may try to catch up with us, but there is no chance in hell that we're sharing a hotel room with him.
Tomorrow is supposed to be an 11 mile day. The next few days we'll see a couple of mountains. I could live the rest of my life happily if I never see another rock or step into a muddy swamp again. I also think that all the mosquitoes have gathered in Maine for some sort of festival. No amount of bug spray will keep them at bay. I'm not getting bitten, but they are invading my personal space to an uncomfortable level.
