Folks I’ve Met Along the Trail

Three women came along one day.  They had their own conversation going and wanted to keep moving.  Friendly though, hiking sensibly in a group.

I passed two guys and a dog at their campsite.  The guys returned my hello and went back to their breaking camp.  The dog didn’t even look at me.

A broken boot speaks of some serious problem at least ten miles from any trailhead.  I looked around for some other sign of trouble and found none.

I hear the broad-winged turkey vultures often as they talk to one another with screeching over miles of open sky.

The snakes have all been the shy kind so far, none of those belligerent poisonous kinds.  

This young couple have it made—wilderness, safety in partnership, and apparently a good deal of love.

With a hundred legs there’s no danger of falling and no hurry either.  A centipede just plods along without any apparent worries.

Plenty of spiders dangle from threads in the morning.  If only I had someone taller than me to walk ahead.  At least this one stays in his house.

This man, hiking alone like me, had plenty of time to talk.  We’d been on some of the same trails.  His Arkansas talk and manner, with “Good morning, mam” and “Had a big ‘ol tree blow across the trail, but it was rotten.”  He’s even been to California just to hike some of the trails.  He was headin’ west and I was moseyin’ east, so I told him a good place to camp, and he said to watch out for the snattle rakers.