Final Day

After the attack of the phantom shitter, Rock Monkey and I awoke to some spritzing rain, enough to don hard shells, and pack covers… for a bit. You see, if you put on your rain gear, it will stop raining, if you do not, it will rain harder, this is a fact of life, test it as you like.

Rock Monkey and I (at this point referring to myself as Moses, thanks camp girls!) decided that with the wet terrain, a ~4000 foot mountain in our way, it would be best to walk together, at least until Rt. 26, where I would wait for my ride. Companionship is always nice, and a (mutual) helping hand on slick rocks can often be the difference between moving safely, and taking dumb risks… so, we began hiking.

Moving up Old Speck with some sense of haste, I managed to snap this:

So Rock Monkey and I continued towards Rt 26, making it there by about 10:30 am, 90 minutes to spare before my ride came. We ran into the usual array of Southbounders, day hikers (it was a Saturday) but nothing too extraordinary, except for the nice man who took our picture.





He was getting ready to start a trip with his son, Who has autism, and as a result find it very challenging to communicate. The two of them had been section hiking for the past several years, and were planning on taking a trip of roughly two weeks through the mountains in Maine! I don’t know about you, but I found it amazing that a father would take his autistic son backpacking with the frequency that he and his son had been moving, very inspiring, on both individuals parts, and truly warming for my soul.