Day 48: What scares you most?

Summary
June 12th

Hitching Post Motel

Miles Yada-yada, or more accurately, nada-nada!

I got up this morning to the prospect of a breakfast sandwich at the Cornwall Country Market, and coffee and chocolate milk and a cinnamon bun. All easily manifested by a short walk up the road. Then it was pack up and see if a shuttle ride was forthcoming. The motel owner, Mr Patel, came by to see if I still wanted one. Score!

But he seemed in a hurry to leave (he had work he needed to get to), so I quickly gathered my things and we left. 

It was a bit of a struggle to get into the passenger’s seat since it was pulled forward (Tolmann needs his leg room), but the seat was easily adjusted, and off we went. 

Mr. Patel had a number of questions about my hike, and also wanted to talk about how he was working with another motel owner today to install a carpet, and how shuttling me had changed his schedule; he is a gregarious man. A short ride later, we were at the trailhead, and I unloaded my stuff, and then he was off. 

Pack on. Adjust the straps. And we’re off!

I had left the motel so quickly, I hadn’t had a final shot at the porcelain throne, so was thinking about the first shelter, and the privy there. I thought it was pretty close, but reached for my phone to check my trail app. 

Things that scare me when on the trail: injury, falling, rattlesnakes, losing my phone…

Where the hell was my phone?!!!

It fits very comfortably in a pocket on the side of my right pants leg. Snug and quite secure. It wasn’t there. 

I looked all around me on the trail, started back to the road, fervently hoping to see it on the ground. Nope. Look around the parking area. Nope. 

<expletive deleted><uncounted expletives deleted>

Maybe it fell out in the car when I got in and adjusted the seat. Maybe I left the motel room too quickly and left it on the bed. 

I started walking back down the road. The night before, I had checked the distance from the hotel to the trail in case I had to walk it; it was 6+ miles. Google maps predicted an hour and 45 minutes walk. 

The only recourse I had was to go back to the motel, check to see if I left the phone in the room, or, if I didn’t find it there, to get a message to Mr. Patel so he would check his car. 

1hr, 45mins: it wouldn’t be fun but it was certainly doable. A few cars passed. I wasn’t feeling comfortable with hitchhiking. Then a couple of contractor’s pickup trucks drove by. That might be the right kind of ride to hitch with…

I heard a vehicle approach from behind and turned to see if it was a pickup truck, but it was a Prius. I began to turn back and walk again, but the car slowed as it came alongside, and the driver asked if I needed a ride. She was a local, her yard backing up to the trail. And she knew someone who thru-hiked the AT. When she learned of my predicament, she was willing to bring me to the motel, and if the phone was there, bring me back to the trail. 

I was blown away by her generosity! So we went back to the hotel: no phone. Well, that was going to change my day. I thanked my Good Samaritan,and she left. 

Mrs. Patel called the place Mr. Patel was supposed to be working (he doesn’t have a cell phone) and asked that he call back when he got there. She asked if I wanted to have my room for another night, but I told her I hadn’t made a decision about staying yet. 

I asked to use her phone to call Debbie, although the call went straight to voicemail, and I left a message telling her the situation.  

Then I set myself up in the shade on the lawn next to the motel, and pulled out my guitar. Did I mention it was hot? It was supposed to get up into the 90’s today. So I sat and sweated and played a bunch of songs, then I decided to go down to the Market, where I could get food and drink, and there was a bathroom. So I grabbed the guitar and my money belt and told Mrs. Patel where I was going. She told me she would call the Market when she heard back from her husband. 

I grabbed a root beer and a cheese/blueberry danish, and sat at a table on the front porch. Not having access to the info my phone provides was maddening. But I was really enjoying having the guitar, and a part of my brain was acknowledging the luxury of not having to hike in the heat. 

Shortly after sitting down, a thru-hiker came over with his resupply, looking for a charging outlet. We got to talking, and I learned that he was called Tipperary, and that he was from Ireland. He had misplaced his charger and cable, so I lent him my cable and he was able to start charging his phone. We had a great conversation, ending with him singing a verse of a song he wrote about making it to Katahdin. 

While we were talking, one of the folks working at the Market stuck her head out the door and asked, “Did one if you lose a phone?”

“Yes!” says I. 

“The folks at the motel found it!”

Fist pumping the air, “YES!”

I looked at my watch and saw it was still before noon. “I can still get some miles in today!”

So I collected my stuff, wished Tipperary a safe journey, and toddled off to the motel. 

When I got there, there was no one in the office and the door was locked. I rang the bell. After some time, Mrs. Patel came and let me in. 

“You have my phone?”

“Mr. Patel has it. Can he bring it to you somewhere tomorrow?”

“When do expect him to come home?”

“Sometime after 7…”

<Dang>

<What to do… what to do?>

So thinking through the possible options, and aware that Debbie was planning on coming tomorrow, it seemed the only viable option was to get the room for another night, then have Debbie meet me here. 

I called a Debbie again to let her know what was going on, got her voice mail again, and left her a message. 

Then it was back to the Market once again to grab lunch and dinner sandwiches, a half gallon of chocolate milk, etc. I saw Tipperary again and let him know the situation. He asked if I wanted to slack pack with him, which I did, but we couldn’t work out the logistics of my getting back. So off I went to play the waiting game at the motel. 

It was a long afternoon. I moved between the air-conditioned room and the heat outside, between a book on my Kindle and the guitar. I watched a portion of a classic version of Last of the Mohicans, and some Star Trek: Voyager. 

At one point, I went outside and Mrs. Patel told me Debbie had tried to reach me via the motel’s phone. I called her back, and she said she was on the way to meet me, and would arrive between 7 and 7:30! Yay!!!

So the day turned around, 180 degrees, in a matter of seconds!

It was rather anticlimactic when Mr. Patel came by to give me my phone. 

And seeing Debbie pull up and get out of the car, that was a priceless moment. 

We don’t really have a sense yet of what tomorrow will look like, but I have been getting practice living in the moment. I’ll take it.