Page 33 - 2007 DT 12 Issues

I n T h i s I s s u e !

Featured Article
My Hikes and Welcome to Them....1

Departments
News & Notes.................................2
Programs & Hikes...........................4
M a y 2007 Desk Schedule...............................6
Bulletin Board................................8

My Hikes and yea,” said Wally, agreeable as always. By this time I had the whistle be-
A month went by uneventfully, but tween my lips and I blew three times as
Welcome to Them this day we lost the trail. “We can’t be hard as I dared in Wally’s ear. He reeled

by Jack Ryan off by more than a hundred or so yards,” back. A hurt expression clouded his
I told Wally. “You go up the mountain sunny face. “Why did’ja do that”? Then
I slope and I’ll go down and whoever a glimmer of thought passed across his
don’t know why my hiking experi-
ences haven’t been the gee-whiz spots the trail will give a holler.” “Yea, face. It brightened. “That birdie. That
adventure that my hiking buddies yea,” said Wally.
I didn’t stick around to hear what
relate on our trail breaks. After hearing I found the trail in minutes and gave was you! And I thought . . . .”
about survival on Mount Rainier in the a holler, and then another. No answers. Wally thought, but I resolved then to
blizzard of ‘98 or a hair-breath rescue After a couple of more unanswered get rid of that whistle. Not that it would
from the Red Rock Escarpment, I’m shouts, I remem- have helped the next
left with only my trivial recollections bered I had the winter when I resolved
of hikes that come like rude tuba notes whistle. I blew it to hike the Appalachian
in the War of 1812 Overture. three times, hard. Trail from the Hudson
Take the wintry Sunday in the 1980s Again. . . . And River to the Delaware,
when Wally and I were hiking in the again. . . . Silence. a 90-mile walk in a
Ramapo’s of New Jersey. Wally was a I started up hill, series of day hikes. I’d
big happy guy with a smile as bright as muttering to my- have to have a partner
his mind was dim. Wally didn’t enjoy self. At the crest, with his own vehicle to
hiking. “Boring,” he said. But he needed I saw Wally wan- shuttle cars and avoid
the exercise. Wally countered boredom dering about with time-consuming back-
by plugging a Walkman in his ears and eyes cast heav- tracking.
listening to music only a few of us re- enward. “Wally,” I recruited Wally
member. He would dance along the trail I shouted. Wally with reservations,
twisting his torso to some tune that was jumped. Then, but we tramped each
mute to the world around him. I would seeing me, he put Saturday without inci-
play a mind game: Is that Swing and his index finger to Jack Ryan on the trail dent. The last segment
Sway with Sammy Kaye or the Sweetest his lips. “Sssh,” was our challenge, a
Music This Side of Heaven? But after he ssshed. I stealthily made my way 12-mile trek through federal wilderness
several hikes, Wally grated my patience. to his side. Wally whispered, “There’s along a ridge overlooking the Delaware
Finger snapping rhythmically he would the darndest bird up here, but I can’t River. Neither of us had hiked that far
lose the trail, and I would bust a lung spot it.” and we were apprehensive as we drove
before I got his attention. Bird? I peered at the naked trees. “I separately to the trailheads. It was a
“Listen,” I told him, “someday don’t see any bird,” I said. Wally was bleak February morning with the smell
you’ll dance off a cliff and fracture your insistent: “It must be a rare one. It’s got of snow in the air. We left Wally’s car at
Walkman. I’ve got a whistle and if I see the oddest call I’ve ever heard. Three
you go astray I’ll blow it three times sharp whistles, then quiet. Then three
hard. That’s your wake up signal.” “Yea, more calls. I’ve never heard. . . .”
My Hikes, continued on page 6