Chapter 8
In the middle of the afternoon, Maggs alerted, which meant someone was ahead.
During my previous two trips on the Trail, I would respond to that by getting off the trail and bypassing whoever it was.
Sometimes that had meant some harsh bushwhacking.
Once in a while, in tight spots, I’d be forced to stay on the trail.
In those cases, I’d just lower my head, pick up my pace, and push on through with a grunt of greeting.
Maggs looked at me, wanting to know which way we were going.
I was probably going to have to stop counting the miles so obsessively.
Maggs’ ears perked forward as she trotted beside me, the long black fur of her shoulders rippling with each step, her nose up. The trail opened into a small clearing where the woman with the Lab sat on a fallen log, her pack propped against a tree. The dog lay at her feet.
The old dog's head lifted at our approach, and his tail gave a single, polite thump. Maggs stopped immediately at my side without command, her training evident in the way she held position, alert but calm.
The woman was giving the dog water from a small collapsible rubber bowl. She forced a pill down the dog’s throat. Then it lapped up more water.
“Afternoon,” I said, slowing my pace, then stopping.
The woman glanced up, her eyes a pale blue that seemed simultaneously sharp and distant. They moved from me to Maggs and back again. “Afternoon.” Her voice was hoarse, like she hadn't used it in a while. “Beautiful shepherd.”
“Thanks.” I watched as Maggs' tail began a slow wag, reading the other dog. My instinct was to pass on by. I fought that back. “Mind if Maggs says hello? She's got better manners than most people I know.” Better than me at least.
The woman’s expression softened almost imperceptibly. “Boone would like that. He’s friendly, just . . . slow.”
I gave the release command with a small hand signal, and Maggs moved forward with careful dignity, approaching the old Lab with her head slightly lowered, respectful.
Boone struggled to his feet with visible effort, and the two dogs touched noses, Maggs keeping perfectly still while the older dog sniffed her with wheezy interest.
“How’s he doing?” I asked, gesturing to Boone's stiff movements.
“Fine. Just old. I have to make sure he stays hydrated and takes his pills. Your girl’s well trained.”
“Working dog background.” Military working dog, but I didn’t see the need to share that.
Boone lay back down and the woman moved the water bowl so he could reach it easily.
I knew I should keep moving. That was the plan—hike my miles, sleep, repeat and I’d already talked to someone today so that box was checked.
Even gotten some life advice. And my picture taken which was a real break of protocol.
Yay me. But Rose's voice echoed in my head, and there was something about the way the woman's shoulders curved inward, protective, that made me stop.
I unslung my pack, slower than necessary, buying time.
“Mind if I take a short break here?”
“Free country.” She didn't look up, dismissing me without rudeness, focused on her dog. “Though technically we might be on National Forest land, so there's probably some bureaucrat who’d disagree. Rules and regulations and all that.”
I settled onto a rock a respectful distance away and pulled out my water bottle.
Maggs returned to my side and lay down with her head on her paws, dark eyes tracking between me and the other two.
The silence stretched between us, not quite comfortable but not hostile either.
Boone's breathing was audible, a slight wheeze on the exhale.
I forced myself to speak. “I’m Max. This is Maggs.”
“Claire. And that's Boone." She finally looked up, and there was something challenging in her gaze, daring me to judge. “He's twelve. The vet said I was crazy to bring him.” She paused. “Actually, the vet used significantly more technical language, but crazy was definitely implied.”
“What do vets know?” I said, though privately I agreed with the vet. Maggs was four and in her prime—watching the old Lab labor to stand had been hard even for me.
Claire pulled a treat out of her pack and fed it to Boone. “You thru-hiking?”
“That's the plan.” I wasn’t going to get into my previous two attempts on the Trail. Maine to Rocky Start and Rose. Rocky Start to two mercenaries trying to kill me and back to Rocky Start. And Rose. “You?”
She shook her head. “Boone would never make that. Trying to get to Fontana Dam. That would complete what Boone and my son—” She abruptly broke off, as if she were about to divulge some secret. “What we want to get done.”
Boone struggled to his feet again, and I caught the way Claire’s hand hovered near his hindquarters, ready to help but not helping yet. Preserving dignity.
The Lab looked over at us, and I could see the cloudiness in his eyes, the gray around his muzzle.
Twelve was old for a Lab, especially one hauling himself up and down mountains.
I found myself wondering if Claire could see the same calculation I was making—how much time the old dog realistically had left.
If she’d talked to a vet she knew what was going on. So something was off here.
Boone began sniffing all around; something dogs loved.
New smells. Definitely in the right place for that.
The dog seemed happy despite the stiffness.
Better than lying in a cage, I thought. I could see myself in old age wandering the trail, sniffing things, taking in the sights, probably falling off a cliff. There were worse places.
Claire stood, brushing dirt from her pants. “We should get moving. Afternoon when it’s warm is the best time for him.”
I rose too, recognizing dismissal. Maggs stood immediately, shaking out her coat. But something made me pause—maybe Rose's voice, maybe the way Boone's tail had wagged when Maggs approached. “Probably see you around, Claire.”
“Probably.” She shouldered her pack with practiced efficiency, then clipped a leash to Boone's harness. “Your dog has good manners.”
“Yours too.”
Something flickered across her face. “He was my son’s dog, actually. But he’s mine now.” She said it quickly, like ripping off a bandaid, then turned away before I could respond.
Before I could think of what to say, she was moving up the trail, the words hanging in the air like smoke, slowly fading away.
Her pace was deliberately slow, matching herself to the dog’s stiff gait.
Boone’s tail wagged slightly as he walked, and her hand drifted down occasionally to touch his head, as if reassuring herself he was still there.
I stood in the clearing for a long moment after they disappeared around the bend, Maggs pressed against my leg.
In my old life, I would have already catalogued everything: the past tense when she spoke of her son, the wedding ring she still wore, the old dog.
I should have left before her, then I could leave her behind, never see her again.
I looked down at Maggs, who gazed back with those intelligent dark eyes, waiting.
I gave Claire and Boone fifteen minutes.
“Come on, girl,” I said quietly, shouldering my pack.
I took the trail, but moving slow.
I stopped early, well before dark. There was a shelter not far past Springer Mountain where most through-hikers spent their first night. I didn’t want to spend my first night in one. Hell, I didn’t want to spend any nights in them, but I’d save that agony for another day.
I figured I’d done enough talking for one day.
I’d actually had conversations with two people in one day which might be a record without violence being involved.
Everyone had survived. I moved off the trail where I couldn’t be seen and found a level spot.
Rolled out my pad and sleeping bag. The weather didn’t indicate rain, so I didn’t deploy my tent.
Then I fed Maggs from her food bag, the heaviest thing I carried.
I boiled some water and ate half of one of my rations.
By the time we were done, the sun was low on the horizon.
I pulled out the Faraday bag and opened it. Tried my cell phone but didn’t get a signal. I reluctantly turned on the Satphone. It took a little while to gain contact since it was an old device. I guess Pike had never seen the need to upgrade.
While I waited, I typed a brief message in.
Met an older lady
She said photos are memories
I dont have any photos
I thought about it for a moment, then realized it was too negative.
So I added
But Im making them now with you
love
Then I hit send.