Coolest personal encounter

[anna in boots]

We're all brushing elbows with strangers on the trail, exchanging that quick nod and smile, maybe a line or two about the weather as we pass. Sometimes, we get to actually meet people and talk to them. Who's the coolest person you've ever met in the wilderness? Have you ever met a celebrity or somebody just downright impressive? Or just plain weird?

Here's my list:

1. On the summit of Mt. Sherman (14,036 ft) in a typical summer blizzard, I met a guy doing all 54 14ners in Colorado, submitting articles by satellite as he went for some famous outdoors magazine; wish I could recall which one.

2. One of the "heirs to the throne" in the Goretex empire. Yes, he was swaddled in his own product--it was the middle of winter on top of Boreas Mountain near South Park, CO.

3. A guy on crutches. He sprained an ankle but decided to 3-leg his way up the rocky mining road girdling Mount Saxon outside of Georgetown, Colorado, rather than sit at home and watch the Broncos. That's a 12-mile-hike, folks, with at least 2500 ft of gain.

Burying the needle on my Weird-O-Meter was the guy who passed me on a trail up a 14ner in June in ancient Converse hightops, cut-off jeans, a thin cotton T-shirt, and a ratty little backpack filled with nothing but a 6-pack of beer.

I had hoped to see more weird stuff now that I'm here in Portland but you hikers are all pretty normal out there. Guess it's up to me...hmmm....

anna in boots

[Spoonie_B]

One time I ate the wrong mushroom on the trail and about an hour later God Himself crossed my path. We chatted for a while. Actually, I listened and he talked. It's hard to have a two-way conversation with a guy who knows everything. But he wasn't stuck-up at all about it. After a while, he got into his Mazeratti and drove off a ridge. Does that count?

[AlexanderSupertramp]

One time I ate the wrong mushroom on the trail and about an hour later God Himself crossed my path. We chatted for a while. Actually, I listened and he talked. It's hard to have a two-way conversation with a guy who knows everything. But he wasn't stuck-up at all about it. After a while, he got into his Mazeratti and drove off a ridge. Does that count?

Oh man, epic . I've had some similar fungi induced conversations in the past, but never on accident. That was a riot!

[zombie]

Every great now and then I like to strap my bokken (wooden practice sword) to my pack and when I find a really great spot I'll run through all manner of Kenjutsu katas...basically the various forms of Shinkage-ryu Japanese swordsmanship. It just adds so much to the concentration side of things to be out in nature, under the sky, feeling the breeze, and knowing that you are very much alone with your practice.

One day I was practicing on a ridge just off the trail when I notcied an older Japanese gentleman with a small day-pack watching me. I was very self-conscious at this point and stopped mid-stream and began to just meander around checking out the views and such, but eventually he came over to me and introduced himself. He was a Kendo instructor and actually had some great advice for my form and technique! I was really unsure of the whole thing at first, but to this day when I loosen the fingers on my left hand or turn my trailing foot in a little more, I think of that day.


-aaron

[Grannyhiker]

When I was in my teens, my parents and I horse-packed for 6-8 weeks every summer in the northern Colorado Rockies.

One year we passed a "cow camp" and the man working there, a rather elderly gentleman, invited us for lunch. He was a truly fascinating person who spent his summers in the mountains watching cattle and his winters in the mountains running trap lines. He had a lot of stories about his adventures in 40-below-zero weather in the Colorado Rockies. We sat there for hours listening to his fascinating tales. He said he was never worried about freezing, but he had a big fear of fire.

Several years later, my mother read an account in the Laramie, WY newspaper about a fire in a local "skid row" hotel. One of the victims was the man we had met at the cow camp.

[Paul]

A couple years ago, 2 days into a 4-day backpack in the Three Sisters area, about 7 pm at Camp lake, and with Gaius just laying around and me reading, a very weary looking guy walks up into my camp and asks, “Are you Paul.” “Uh, yeah?” “I’m Tigger.” “Hey!”

Tigger (a guy from another forum) found me, after a post that that consisted of: I’ll be up at Sister’s, me too, hope to see you there, yup.

And he brought a six pack. Of Henry’s. In BOTTLES. He made an instant friend that night. We talked and laughed until bedtime. We parted the next day; it was a good trip.

[Aridd]

One time I ate the wrong mushroom on the trail and about an hour later God Himself crossed my path. We chatted for a while. Actually, I listened and he talked. It's hard to have a two-way conversation with a guy who knows everything. But he wasn't stuck-up at all about it. After a while, he got into his Mazeratti and drove off a ridge. Does that count?

Oh man, epic . I've had some similar fungi induced conversations in the past, but never on accident. That was a riot!

wow. very funny indeed i laughed for a minute or two at that also.

i havent really had any too personal experiences, i usually talk to people , and sometimes i see some odd beings but nothing sticks out too much except one time i was at multnomah falls a year or so ago and this GIGANTIC man came out off the trail with calves the size a honeybaked ham and looks like he took a mudbath that morning. it was odd. he sticks out to me. hes kind of my idol.

[anna in boots]

These are all so great! The actual people, that is, not the hallucinations. ;-)

Aridd, I'm confused, was the big dude a real guy? I once saw a body builder struggling to scramble a large talus slope on the side of Mt. Evans just outside of Denver, Colorado. He must have been two hundred and fifty pounds of pure, solid muscle but he was having a real time hauling all that body up and over the car-sized boulders. His leaner buddies were just leaving him in the dust and when I passed them, I heard them snickering about it. Just goes to show you that certain fitness extremes can severely limit your adventure potential.

Love your avatar, by the way.

anna in boots

[chameleon]

I had a strange encounter in high-school when a friend and I decided to climb our first mountain together. It was Wind River peak in Wyoming - over 13,000. Neither of us had ever been very high, and this was definately the highest thing each of us had tried. We took three days, and on our summit day, as we neared the top, we were both getting pretty winded, and my friend said, "Do you hear bells?" I listened carefully...and sure enough, I too was hearing "tinkle ting ting." "Wierd man, maybe its the elevation?" I said. Confused we continued on.

As we reached the summit, what came into view?... What else but a shephard with a small herd of goats with bells who had come up the other side! We had a chuckle and enjoyed the view with our new acquaintance. The Wind Rivers are in fact a magnet for interesting people - lot's of neat characters roam them. The local Shoshone tribes also hold that they are the home to the "little people," but that is probably a subject for another thread! Anyway, I have yet to meet another herd of goats on a mountain peak!

-Zach

[Spoonie_B]

Well, if we're talking about real actual people, not deities, then I have to mention the old couple we saw in the middle of Paria Canyon last year. On about day 3 of our 5 day hike through Buckskin and Paria, 45 flat but fairly rugged miles long, we came across a couple in their 80s who were hiking through with their children and grandchildren. They each carried their own pack, and were taking about 6 days to do slightly less mileage (they didn't do Buckskin, which requires wading through hip-deep frigid pools of snowmelt). They were healthy, happy, and motoring right along. Definitely living the life I hope to lead at their age.

On the other side of the coin, I remember dayhiking a stretch of the AT near the NY/NJ border a few years back. I met a thru-hiker who was having a pretty bad time of it, had injured himself the day before in one of those "I'm &$^&*&$#% exhausted" accidents on the trail, and was seriously contemplating ditching the trail. We talked for a while. I encouraged him to do whatever he knew he needed to do, which is meaningless advice, but I didn't know what else to say. I can't imagine coming 1700 miles and not finishing... but then again, I can't imagine hiking 1700 miles. He was memorably miserable.

Hiking in the Gorge, I've seen a couple unidentifiable blurs moving past me. It was disconcerting at the time, but after reading enough of these posts, I now realize that they must have been Don Nelson and Joerunner doing what they do!