I've been driving through Maine a bit over the course of the past three months or so.
And it's a beautiful place.
Think green and clean. It looks like a great place to camp out, if you're interested in that sort of thing.
My beautiful wife and my terribly wimpy children aren't either.
Yet I have always smiled about the "Watch out for moose in the roadway" signs that are posted along the way. I've also enjoyed my trip through Poland because I'm usually sipping on a Poland Spring as I drive by.
Well, this trip made me think a little more because the day before I arrived I read an article about the poor woman, Geraldine Largay, a hiker, a wife and a mother, who got lost on the Appalachin Trail.
The poor woman left the trail, got disoriented and was missing for a month before they found her dead of starvation in a spot where she had set up camp just two miles from being saved.
It's an awful story.
I glanced at the comment sections and someone had said:
"At least she died doing something she loved to do."
That's a tad idiotic!
She loved to die a slow, painful death due to dehydration and starvation???
Not how I'd like to go.
Yet as I drove the 2 plus hours through the beautiful state I kept looking at the heavy woods that lined the roadway.
I could see exactly how it all went down. I have a putrid sense of direction. I have to leave bread crumbs to find my car in a parking lot...
... 10 steps off the trail and I'd be toast.
I visited the job site and talked to one of the local guys. He, of course, did some hiking himself. He had also followed the poor woman's story and had even helped in the search for her one day.
"It only takes a minute to get turned around in there," he said, "but you always need to be prepared and you should always have a partner traveling with you. So, if your wife wants to go, you better go with her."
"My wife isn't going traipsing through the woods," I said. "Unless she has her i-pad and large screen television with her."
"Mine either," he said. "But a whole bunch of amateur hikers do come through here and it really isn't a game."
We chatted a little while longer about Geraldine, the 66-year old hiker.
"I can tell you one thing, that's a horrible death, but you know what's worse?"
"What's that?" I asked.
"Running into a full-sized moose with your car. You won't win that battle."
I drove really slow...
...back to Boston.
Not a moose in sight.
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