That cute O'Reilly kid, Ralph, Action boy, Zeb and myself. Don't ask how the crew got here. We had tediously planned to be wearing hiking boots, draped in rain gear, raping the Mountains of Maine with our knowledgeable Amazon Appalachian book.
...and without Ralph, it felt like life was missing a tantalizing component of our posse. Annoying stoplight after stoplight, with the emptiness of the gabby deer in back, the final disappointment with a flat tire. Starring at Zeb's shoes- tires that had ridden 4000 miles in previous years - one could almost see socks through the worn soles. This is one of those moments when one thinks: perhaps I have a problem here. Just a month ago trekking into the woods without enough food or fuel, and now with a thousand miles ahead Zeb lacked a wearable tire. How did such a mishap of basic preparedness happen again?
Mileage: 65. It was annoying. The morning started off with Dunkin Dounuts refusing to refill my iced coffee needs. The problem lay not in the refill, but in the concept that I could purchase another medium iced caffeine and could also bring in a personal cup to be filled for 75 cents off the listed price. But I could not purchase another coffee to be put in the disposable recyclable plastic label dunkin donuts cup that I purchased 15 minutes ago. It was only 10am, but the young naive girl behind the counter refused to partake in my save the earth speech. "So one medium iced coffee?" She asked after this back and forth of corporate rules of ridiculousness. I wanted that coffee more than anything. Like a a Mosquito feinting for warm blood. But appalled by superfluous wastefulness my answer was a flat out NO. I dreamed about that coffee all through the early afternoon.
Weather: 95 and sunny
Officially this story, buried within the state called Maine, can end with no regrets. Mosquitoes had eaten flesh and it itched like children with the chicken poxs. Poor O'Reilly was smeared in poison ivy and a tiredness set in so painful it was deliriously nauseating. Maine showed it's true colors, blueberry blues and isolated green stretched of a never ending density. New Englander's vacation homes contrasted the unmanicured scraps of poverty layered deep within the back roads. Their countryside clearly portrayed why these northerners produce 90% of the nations toothpicks and 99% of our blueberries.