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The recognition of one another over the telephone was by far the worst and most awkward moment of the reunion. When we met in person for the first fly-over we immediately bonded like we'd never been apart. At first we moved to just shake hands, but then both smiled, shook our heads, and hugged. It felt really good to hold Dana in my arms again. Somehow the curtains of distance and time just disappeared like they'd never been there in the first place. Dana's main appearance change was an updated haircut more practical to a female adventurer-- only long enough to sometimes brush her shoulders-- and more business-like attire compared to our high school and early college days.
It helped immensely that Dana was like me in the desire to get the official job done and done well, no matter our personal history. After the flight we went to a late lunch. That lunch stretched out so long we ended up having an early dinner in the same place. I winced when I learned Dana had married and divorced since I last saw her. I mean, I wasn't surprised she'd been snapped up by matrimony: Dana was a mouth-watering catch for any guy. I guess I just wished that like me, she'd never actually gotten around to tying the knot. Still, having gotten divorced afterwards and not remarried again was pretty good too, from my perspective (yeah: a selfish perspective). Me, I'd been single the whole time. Mostly. I didn't mention Bridget at all. For even by that late date I could not bear to discuss her. Even when Dana specifically asked about such relationships during our conversations. When things happen, they often seem to happen in clusters. Around this time I'd also received a letter in the mail. From Bridget's little sister Kathy. At first I was stumped by how she'd even managed to get hold of my mailing address. For it'd been ten years since I'd seen anyone from that Texas family. And since then I'd moved about quite a lot, too. Then I recalled only maybe fifteen months past I'd dug up the address of Bridget's parents in order to send them something of Bridget's I'd discovered stashed away in some long stored belongings of mine from that era: a sculpture less than a foot tall, which Bridget had kept in our Texas trailer. It'd pained me to run across it. I probably only had it due to the frenzy of heart-broken packing I did to leave Texas after Bridget's death. I didn't want to keep the statue, due to the memories it invoked. But I couldn't bear to throw it away, or destroy it. Just the thought brought me to tears more than once. After a few weeks I decided to simply send it back to her family instead. Yeah, it probably caused Bridget's parents pain too to get it out of the blue like that. But I couldn't figure out a better option. Just packing it back away wouldn't have worked for two reasons: one, I'd know it was there, and two, eventually circumstances would make me encounter it again. So Kathy had likely learned my present location from the return address on the package. Ouch! It'd hurt a remarkable lot to suddenly get a letter reminding me of Bridget. I'd planned to propose to Bridget, but she'd been killed in a construction accident before I'd worked up the courage for the question. I'd spent many of the years since studiously avoiding thoughts of her wherever possible-- largely by staying so busy I didn't have time to reminisce. Besides being in love with Bridget, I'd truly adored her whole family. Her parents and her sister. And they'd liked me as well. It'd all seemed so perfect-- before the accident. That time and place had been the only setting I'd ever found where I thought maybe I truly belonged, and could contentedly live out my life. A fantastic woman, tons of employment opportunities, daily adventure, true happiness: I'd had it all for that brief, shining moment in time. I'd felt especially close to Bridget's father Emory. Partly because he'd built his own supercar, too. Out of an old Lincoln Continental. Granted, it was almost the opposite of mine in some ways. But still it was an impressive automobile with its own possibly unique collection of gadgetry and capabilities. The content of Kathy's letter had both saddened and alarmed me. Emory had died. And Kathy had decided some traveling might be helpful to her state of mind. She also planned to stop by and see me along the way. Yikes! I may have recovered some since Bridget's death, but not nearly enough to spend hours conversing with her younger sister. And especially not with the new subject of Emory's death up for discussion as well. Kathy had given no phone number in the letter. And if she'd stuck to the travel schedule she'd documented in the message, anything I wrote back to her would have no chance of reaching her before she set out. So I'd made some calls to information to get a telephone number. But was foiled. Three different attempts resulted only in three wrong numbers. Which seemed really odd. It was like none of Bridget's family existed in Texas anymore. There seemed to be a missing piece in all this somewhere. Something Kathy hadn't mentioned in her letter. I was doomed. Just in case though I whipped up a brief note and sent it to her letter's return address attempting to persuade her (without hurting her feelings) not to swing by my way. But it was all for naught. For Kathy showed up only a couple days later. And it was far worse than I could have imagined. For Kathy had grown up to be the spitting image of Bridget, in terms of facial features. Sure, there were differences-- like hair style, for one. Kathy's loose curly locks were long enough to easily reach her shoulders; significantly longer than Bridget's had been. Kathy also appeared more definitely blonde than Bridget had. And had a much fairer complexion. Bridget had spent considerable time outdoors working construction, plus maybe put some effort into maintaining a skin tone suitable for her occasional modeling gigs. I supposed Kathy's much more pale look was what Bridget herself had possessed prior to the modeling and construction stints.
Kathy was smaller framed than Bridget. Considerably smaller-- not even average sized for a young woman her age, it seemed. Indeed, she seemed not to have grown nearly as much as expected over the roughly ten years since I'd seen her last. I guessed she'd inherited her diminutive stature from her mom Peggy, who'd also seemed unusually small back then. Bridget's height looked to have come from their dad. Kathy was well proportioned figure-wise though, with surprisingly long legs considering her height-- almost a paradoxical arrangement in itself. Making her look taller than she truly was, so long as no one was standing next to her for comparison. Somehow, nature had managed to instill quite a nice hour glass figure on Kathy too-- in addition to the long legs. A state of affairs which seemed difficult to fathom indeed, considering the small stature there'd been to work with. Whatever miracles had been required to put it all together, the results were quite a pleasing package indeed, looks-wise. For they made Kathy resemble a shrunken or smaller version of Bridget. A miniature edition. With longer hair. And damn if a smaller, longer-haired Bridget didn't seem even cuter than the full-sized one! Damn it to hell! It actually caused me a physical twinge of pain to see the grown up Kathy for the first time. I surely winced visibly. For it made my heart hurt. Kathy had the same icy pale-blue eyes as Bridget, too. And atop all this Dana was now back in my life as well. If I hadn't been smack in the middle of the current project for Steve I would likely have fled to parts unknown. Yeah, I realize that sounds awfully backward of me. But I never had been much of a ladies' man, even in my prime. Yeah, sure, I'd successfully made my way through plenty of wild predicaments back then-- but around the girls I'd often found myself tongue-tied and clumsy. No matter how much I tried to overcome it. And the more I liked a girl, the more introverted I became. Sheesh! About the only exceptions to this had been with women who managed to slip in under my romance radar, so-to-speak. Dana and I had gotten together briefly in high school, helped by the fact we'd been best friends since second grade (and she apparently had a weakness for socially inept geeks like myself). After her parents split us up, Steve took over the role of my best friend. As for Bridget, she and Steve had dated for maybe a couple weeks in Texas before Steve had to return to Tennessee, and Steve had asked me to look after her, due to some ex-boyfriend problems she was having. One thing led to another, and somehow Bridget too had become a cherished part of my life. Combine my original introverted nature with me near-drowning in sorrow after Bridget's death, and you got me largely trying to avoid contact with women altogether after that. The possibility of losing someone else so dear to me was just more than I could bear. Yeah, I was lonely. Sometimes terribly so. But the pain of losing Bridget had been much, much worse than that. So why risk it again? Surviving was enough, I kept telling myself. Surviving. Staying busy. Pushing the rock up the hill. Work. That was the purpose of life, anyway. Love was just a distraction from the true path. Possibly even a horrific trap for the unwary. It just wasn't worth the anguish. Plus, I'd had a mental breakdown of sorts some years after Bridget's death. Which didn't seem to bode well after that for anyone who might get involved with me. For I simply couldn't know if I might fall apart again-- and hurt them in the process. So anyway, besides the now ancient but still very real heart-ache relating to Bridget, I feared I was no longer a suitable candidate for a normal relationship, mind-wise. Therefore I'd buried myself still deeper in my work than before, after all that. Trying in my own way to finish the therapy I felt the doctors of the time had short-changed me on. Steve knew about all this, but didn't care. Steve seemed capable of accepting just about anything. I guess because his own life was so filled with astonishing events. Almost nothing fazed Steve. But with such a muted response to everything, it could also be frustrating to tell Steve about stuff like this. For afterwards you'd feel like you hadn't really gotten it off your chest at all.
Steve's dad had owned a pretty big piece of real estate in the region of Traveler's Bend. His dad's siblings had too. And many of their neighbors owned some mighty chunks as well, due to their families having all settled in those parts generations back. Steve had sort of indirectly inherited his dad's land, and was considering buying some of that from his aunts and uncles and neighbors too. In order to assemble the space required for his resort. So my flights over the territory had included all such patches. My air survey turned up one big surprise though. A good-sized hunting lodge or something similar deep in the undeveloped mountains of those parts-- with no road leading in or out. It was most curious. Not marked on any map I could find. And no one I talked to seemed to know about it. And this was a good-sized structure! Not old at all either, by the looks of things. But unless it had a really long access road that was hidden with military precision from air surveys, the construction supplies and equipment for the place would all have had to have been flown in by helicopter at huge expense. No, the place was no mansion by any means. But it looked to be at least some dozen rooms or so in size-- and two stories. During the fly-overs there'd been no sign of inhabitants. Steve's actual home base was currently a thousand miles away and he himself often still more distant, as he frequently flew nationally and world-wide for both work and pleasure. I may have been one of the few folks around in those days to possess his most reliable and direct contact info. I called him about the weirdness and he asked me to investigate further. On foot if need be. Find out who was living there, etc. For its location looked like it might interfere mightily with the planned resort. Heck, we figured it might even be a rival resort in the making! There was a curious lack of info on the place in the legal and news records of our hometown-- the nearest official burg to Traveler's Bend. Of course, throughout history certain folks in these parts had often played fast and loose with the records for all sorts of reasons. Sometimes that could be a good thing. But often it was bad. To make matters worse, the building seemed to straddle the border line between two chunks of land owned by different people. And both those chunks had confusing legal claims revolving around them, with the principal original owners having died in one case and the other gone missing and declared dead, and various relatives and others now fighting over the territory in court. And yet none of those involved I could reach seemed to know anything about the mystery house. Or at least they claimed they knew nothing. Dana of course learned almost everything I did about the conundrum due to our getting together for the flights. After Kathy arrived she and I spent some time talking at my place. Luckily my schedule broke up the time I had available so I couldn't usually spend more than an hour or so at once in such meetings. Kathy had also gotten herself a hotel room in town, so I was spared the need to invite her to stay with me while in the vicinity. Having her for a room-mate-- no matter how briefly-- would have been really awkward, in more ways than one. For my current living arrangements were pretty spartan, and ill-configured for company. Especially feminine company. And beyond that, I'd developed into a hard-core hermit over past years, who greatly disliked sharing his living space with other folks. It was annoying enough having to regularly deal with others in the outside world for business reasons: I craved an isolated refuge for my personal time. And of course the whole Bridget thing made me feel like I could go into meltdown any time Kathy was around. Despite all this, Kathy decided to hang around town a bit longer for some reason, and I felt pressured to continue spending time with her when I had the opportunity (i.e., couldn't come up with an honest excuse out of it). But I definitely didn't want to spend time alone with her. She reminded me way too much of Bridget. Plus, she seemed overly friendly with me, if you know what I mean. Sort of flirting with me at times (I thought)-- stuff like that. As it's easy to misinterpret the signals-- especially from young people not experienced in the art-- I wasn't absolutely positive Kathy was flirting with me. Heck, I figured it might even be wishful thinking on my part! And so I tried to ignore it as best I could. Though that can be darn difficult to do with a girl as attractive as Kathy. And being a guy as long-term lonesome as me at the time. Even had I not had all my past mental problems, my mourning of Bridget, and Dana to deal with, I'd still have felt somewhat at a loss as to how to deal with Kathy under the circumstances. She was much younger than me, and if Bridget hadn't died, possibly would have become my sister-in-law. But she looked even younger than she truly was, and as all my memories of her from Texas were as a little girl, I felt like she might actually qualify closer to daughter territory than sister-in-law. At least in some ways, such as the age difference. It hurt my head to think about it. It was also a shock to realize how many years had passed since my Texas days, as the vision of a grown up Kathy standing before me sort of overlaid my recollection of the little girl helpfully answering requests from Bridget for welding rods, or me and Emory for tools or parts, as we worked on repairing my car. After a while I began to enjoy Kathy's attentions there. At least somewhat. But I felt we were both wasting our time. And her resemblance to Bridget threatened to re-open old wounds in my soul. But even after several days Kathy gave no sign of moving on. And Steve would be expecting another project report soon. So I figured I'd take care of multiple problems at once and invite Kathy and Dana both to hike with me up to the mystery lodge on a fact-finding mission. Of course all this was made more complicated by my desire not to explain any more than I had to, to Dana about Bridget. I mean, I had no choice but to finally mention Bridget to Dana, once I decided to try pitting the two girls against one another like fighting fire with fire, during a hike. Dana did seem to get a bit miffed at me for not divulging Bridget's existence before. Plus suddenly springing Bridget's little sister on her, from seemingly out of nowhere. But basically I succeeded at getting Dana to treat the subject much like she had Sue Anne years before. Sue Anne had been the subject of a crush I'd harbored in high school and somewhat beyond. Sort of an awful warm up for the whole Bridget affair. Agh! And on the flip-side I had to also try to limit what Kathy might tell Dana about Bridget and me. Yeah, I know inviting them both on the hiking trip seems really stupid, but it's even dumber to go on such a trip alone. Something I'd learned the hard way some time before. And being such a loner the previous few years I'd pretty much lost what few willing and able companions I'd once possessed for such outings. I felt strongly obligated to spend more time with Kathy while she was still around. And frankly, an arduous hike seemed the least painful way to do it. Plus, maybe roughing it a little would encourage Kathy to move on and leave me alone. I'd successfully rid myself of other folks with such maneuvers in past years. Don't get me wrong. The only thing I had against Kathy was something she couldn't help: reminding me of Bridget. If Bridget had never existed (and I didn't have so many other problems) I would likely have sought out the company of someone like Kathy. For like Bridget, she was really something from what I could tell. From what conversations we'd had so far since she'd arrived. Kathy was apparently a math prodigy. She'd won top honors in various competitions before and during high school, and I think scored something like second or third place in the national versions. Female math prodigies are rare: men may possess certain structures in their brains which make math easier for them. As math talent may be closely linked to chess ability, I was secretly relieved Kathy hadn't asked me to play her a game. Considering her sister Bridget and mine's history, it would have felt strange indeed for Kathy to best me there. I myself am definitely no major talent mathematics-wise. But over the years I'd found myself drawn to some of the more esoteric elements of physics: cosmology, to be specific. And I was pleasantly surprised to discover Kathy shared my interest there. Some of our most enjoyable early discussions delved into that subject. Unfortunately, Kathy wasn't at all intimidated by the raw physics and its arcane formulas, and various differential equations involved. So she often took me in way over my head there. I'm sure I disappointed her several times in that regard. But I got the impression I'd accompanied her at least a little deeper into that subject than any other fellow of her acquaintance, and so scored some points there. Sheesh! It sure did seem like I'd met more than my share of genius women in my life! Or maybe a lot more women out there are smarter than we men usually give them credit for. Or perhaps I tend to overestimate my own intellect in the balance. Oh well. Talking with Kathy about stuff like this seemed an awful lot like my previous conversations with her sister Bridget and Dana. Not in subject matter, but the depth of intellectual engagement. With those girls too, debate and discussion had been a full contact sport, mental faculties-wise. However, talking with Kathy could also feel like treading my way through a mine-field. For having her around made me realize I was still far more fragile in regards to my memories of Bridget than I thought. Whenever our discussions got too stimulating, I'd almost forget I was with Kathy, and feel like I was with Bridget again instead. When I was forced to remind myself of the difference, a freezing cold wave of anguish would wash over me, and I'd lose my train of thought. Thankfully though, I believe I managed to keep Kathy from noticing my inner turmoil in her presence. But this still resulted in a strange disjointedness to our conversations at fairly regular intervals. Kathy though seemed unperturbed by this, as if it were a common occurance for her. And looking back on it now, I guess she did encounter such things pretty often, as her intellect out-raced most of those with whom she spoke. Whatever the reason, I'm glad my own overwrought emotional state didn't cause her any hurt feelings or discomfort. One thing for which I was very thankful in all this was that the monstrous lust Dana and I had shared years before now seemed gone-- or at least well dormant. When we hugged we were able to let go again without much difficulty. I mean, I was definitely strongly attracted to her still; but I could let go of her after an embrace with little effort. It'd been mighty different for a while, years before. Anyway, just as I figured having Dana along would protect me from any in-depth talk sessions with Kathy, I likewise thought having Kathy around would minimize any chances of Dana and I getting too close again. Yes. I was actively trying to sabotage the chances of anything interesting at all occurring between me and either of the women. I mean, surely both of them being women, they'd chatter away amongst themselves and basically leave me alone. Then the hike would be over and I would have spent a reasonable amount of time with both Dana and Kathy, surely fulfilling whatever obligations I might have to either. And we could all go our separate ways once again. Yep. I already had the whole event stowed inside a metaphorical box, wrapped up and ready to ship out and away from my life. My awful life, of the past several years. No, I didn't really wish to be that cold and calculating, and send them both packing like that as soon as I could. I just thought it best for all involved. And maybe the least painful option for me personally. So I suppose I was being somewhat selfish there(?) Or else really, really dumb. Yeah, I was screwed up. Bad. But I honestly felt this was my best option for the circumstances.
Besides the plane, it turned out Dana had her own four wheel drive jeep too. We used it to get as close to the mystery house as we could first via road, then off-road as far as the jeep could take us. The night before the hike, weather forecasts for the area indicated the next day would be fair and clear and warm. The day after might be roughly the same-- for the most part. Some rain was expected late in the day. Of course, weather forecasts in 1983 were a bit more circumspect and couched with caveats than today. Never-the-less, the first day looked to be perfect for a mid-fall hike, with the contingency over-night and next day period not too bad either. From a potential camp out perspective. It appeared we had a pretty decent weather window maybe three or four times as long as we'd require. Hiking the terrain of the Smoky Mountains and vicinity may not be nearly as arduous, dangerous, or involved as the Rockies, but it can still be strenuous, and at times risky. And in warm weather it can be downright hot, too. Over-dressing is not recommended for such times. Getting too hot can cause all sorts of problems, like exhausting you too easily, or driving up your water needs. Stuff like that. Heck, at times it can even make you pass out or die! As Kathy hadn't packed much in the way of clothes suitable for lengthy hiking, Dana had loaned her some of hers. Since Kathy was significantly smaller than Dana, this left Kathy looking even more petite than before. Dana's hiking shorts were very baggy about Kathy's thighs and waist-- and I fully appreciated how they exposed her entire legs in certain positions. Kathy had to tightly cinch up her belt to keep the shorts from falling off, it seemed. Dana had also loaned Kathy something similar to a large man's work shirt, which Kathy now wore open, over her own much better fitting T-shirt. Kathy could remove the outer shirt for cooling purposes, if the need arose.
On the way to our planned hike's starting point, we were surprised to find ourselves turned back by rangers at road blocks. Then again on the second route we tried. And even the third. The government apparently had quarantined the whole place for some sort of pest spraying program. They said they were trying to get rid of an insect that'd come in from Asia and was decimating a certain species of tree. I figured out of the huge expanse of forest our odds of getting a significant dose of anything were likely very low. Plus, we'd be outdoors! As well-ventilated as could be! At least when a breeze was present. So I didn't see the warning as that big of a deal. Neither did the girls. All these detours looked to make for a considerably longer hike than I'd originally figured. But Dana got tired of being blocked on the roads in, so she went off-road to get around them. Off-road considerably further out from our hike's starting point than we'd originally hoped.
Dana had been very professional in her flying. Behaving in a most composed manner the whole time. Naturally, being in a small plane, there's the occasional sickening drop as you hit certain changes in the atmosphere. But usually those aren't much worse than a kid's county fair ride if that's all that happens. But Dana wasn't nearly so accommodating in her off-road driving. There were several times I was certain we were courting disaster on our way to start our hike. More than once I demanded to exit the jeep before she tried to take it through a particularly nasty piece of terrain. Kathy tended to follow my lead the first time or two, but seemed to grow more confident in Dana's driving after that. That was fine with me. I was done with my own automotive derring-do for this lifetime. I wanted nothing to do with a second helping. For one thing, I was fairly certain I'd used up my full allotment of luck for such escapades. Plus, if Dana or Kathy got hurt with the jeep rolling over or something, they'd be glad I was available to help them afterwards. It'd be just plain dumb for us all three to get helplessly pinned underneath Dana's jeep, out here. Dana of course was familiar with the earliest half or so of my supercar days, and acted like she couldn't believe my present-day timidity, relative to that history. But I'd bet most anyone else would agree with me, if they'd seen the terrain we were traveling. Plus, even during my wildest supercar days, I'd often felt antsy when someone other than myself was driving (with the possible exception of Steve, who I knew for certain to be more capable than myself at that). Kathy too had known me back then. At least as well as the little kid sister of my girlfriend might have been expected to know me. I'd really only met her a few times then, and not actually spoken to her that much. Which made it all the more curious why she'd track me down years later and a thousand miles away like this. And be so disturbingly friendly and familiar. I suspected it had something to do with her dad's heavily customized car. For that's what she'd driven up from Texas, I'd been surprised to see. But if that was a relevant clue, it sure hadn't helped me much so far. Maybe she needed something done to the car? Or learn how to use some of the gadgets her dad had built into it? So far though, she'd indicated nothing along those lines.
I'd been hiking in the woods since I was maybe seven or eight years old. It'd been for fun, then. I'd done more serious versions of same since around age fifteen or sixteen. And actually gotten some military training in map and compass use in college. As well as endured my own real life wilderness tests more than once. So although we were now heading into territory I hadn't personally tread before, I didn't expect to encounter any serious threat there. Yeah, there was always the possibility of meeting up with a bear or black panther (yes, there seems to exist at least a few panthers in my native region). But a pack of wild dogs was more likely. And a gun-toting bad guy human even more probable than that. But in general mother nature herself was the one to be most wary of. An injury out here could be lethal. Bad weather out here could be lethal. There was also the possibility of getting bitten by rabid skunks or raccoons or dogs, or poisonous snakes. At least in the warmer months. As this hike was taking place in the fall, the risk of some of these dangers was somewhat reduced. Still though I wore my scramble vest I retained from my supercar and airship days, over an unusual gray shirt I possessed with no sides or sleeves to it. I had maybe half a dozen of these things I used for jobs like this. I'd begun wearing them during my earliest flying days, as it could get awfully warm pressed up against the belly of a hot air balloon in the summer-time. Especially with burners, a compressor, hot mufflers, and other equipment within only a couple feet of you as well. These shirts were at least 50% cotton, and consisted of only a front and a back, tied together at the waist and top. This completely exposed my arms and sides of my torso for cooling purposes. This type of shirt seemed to work well underneath my vest too-- until and unless things got very, very hot. When I speak of my scramble vest, I'm talking about a three pocketed hunter's vest I kept packed with special gear. I called it a scramble vest because in my supercar days (if forced to abandon my vehicle) I could simply grab the vest and make a run for it, and have numerous survival, evasion, and escape aids at my fingertips. All contained in a vest which was easier to bear than a backpack, on-the-run. I was also toting along my various scramble vest accessories. Including a snub-nosed 38 Special stainless steel revolver, which I wore in a form-fitting holster attached to my belt. And sheathed hunting knife and water canteen. I could basically survive and escape a wide range of conditions with my survival vest and pistol alone. But if that was all I had I sure wouldn't enjoy it. And I'd be forced to scavenge for food and water almost immediately after setting out. Obviously I required more than my scramble vest supplies for any significant outdoors task where I'd have friendly company, and a hike lasting longer than a few hours. So in addition to the vest and pistol, I brought along my usual small backpack. The pack was basically the configuration suitable for college campus life. One good-sized inner space for large items like books, with a smaller outside pocket for accessories like writing instruments. Both during and after college, I'd used such small day packs for many of my trips or jobs. They were well suited to substituting for a brief case in an office environment, as well as toting supplies and equipment for a minimalist one to two day warm weather hike or camp out. For more major league expeditions I had my super pack, with its own aluminum frame and padded belt and shoulder straps. That thing could hold maybe five or six times the stuff my small pack did, and let you carry it much easier for longer distances. I'd brought both my day pack and super pack on this trip, figuring I'd choose which to use depending on the conditions present when we left Dana's jeep behind. My super pack set up included a good-sized, full-blown camping tent, a roomy sleeping bag, sleeping pad, and much more. But from what I could tell on the map and from other sources this would be no overnight thing. Just a day hike. Especially if Dana could get us as close to the place with her jeep as she claimed. Otherwise of course, I'd haul in the heavier gear. The girls had brought some extra gear of their own as well, if we ended up having a longer walk than expected. But not much. Like I said, we expected only to make a day of it. And I encouraged the girls to travel light. I always carried a strong walking stick during hikes, almost as long as I was tall. It was never anything special: I simply scrounged around for a good candidate immediately at the edge of any woods I happened to be entering. The East Tennessee forests were usually very accommodating about such things. In most of my wildest moments in the woods so far, the long staff had been the only weapon or tool I'd required for self-defense and various other purposes. In the past I'd used such an item to fend off hostiles of both man and beast kind. I'd learned through experience it was a good idea to take a hat along, too. In this timeframe I sported a Vietnam style soft military hat. I felt it sort of made me look a little goofy, but that could actually work to my advantage in some situations-- by making other folks underestimate me. This sort of hat was better for outdoors use than the baseball type caps I might wear around town. And was easier to stuff into a pocket when unneeded, than the caps with their stiff bills. The Army hat wasn't waterproof, but wouldn't get thoroughly soaked even in a hard rain for a good couple minutes-- usually plenty of time to find shelter. The all around brim protected you better from the sun than a cap, too. Naturally I hoped to avoid taking the super pack, as even with the frame and padding carrying it would be much more arduous than taking the day pack. I encouraged the women to carry a bare minimum of supplies and equipment themselves, due to my expectations of the hike being completed and we back at the jeep by nightfall that same day-- and if we had to pull an overnighter anyway, my daypack held the essentials for such a stay. My biggest concern was that the hike might be too difficult for the girls. Indeed, that was the main sticking point in my plan: I was afraid we'd have to take so many rest breaks for the girls' sakes that that alone might force an overnight stay upon us. Hence, the reason I encouraged the girls to travel light: so as to minimize their fatigue along the way. Dana had accompanied me on quite a few hikes in the woods before-- but most of those had been while we were both somewhere between the second and fifth grades in school. So I was curious to see how she'd hold up now. Dana had inspected everything I'd brought to the party, from the super pack gear to the day pack, etc., before we left her place. She'd seemed to approve of the inventory. Especially since it winnowed down greatly what she herself would have to consider bringing along. Dana would end up toting only something like a small fanny pack, while Kathy would carry little or nothing extra that I could tell, except for whatever was in her pockets. Dana finally got her jeep stuck in one of her questionable choices for driving course, and we continued on foot. Figuring to put off the work involved in getting unstuck to our return leg. That postponement seemed the best choice for us getting the hardest work out of the way first and fastest, too. However, somehow Dana still managed to give us very near to the same wheeled head start for our hike we'd originally hoped for: just from another direction than planned. So the hike in wouldn't be much as planned after all, in terms of exact course. But it still looked acceptable difficulty-wise, according to my maps. And it still looked possible to do it all before nightfall, too. Even with the delay the rangers had forced upon us with their road blocks. Plus, my day pack contained that contingency gear, just in case. Stuff we could use for an overnighter in a pinch. So although we were now pushing our luck a bit more than I'd originally planned, I still saw no reason to do more than let the women know about the shift. They were unfazed by the notice. The hike in wasn't very eventful. Pretty much just what you'd expect from several hours walk off the beaten path, in a gentle mountain range like this one. I was navigating via notes, compass, and US Geological Survey map. We never saw or heard any sign of active aerial spraying on the walk in. Both the girls surprised me with their stamina, not asking for a rest stop anywhere along the way in. Kathy did exhibit some effect though: she put her hair up into a pony tail along the way to help her stay cooler during the exertion. And removed the borrowed shirt, to tie it around her waist. This made her look even younger than before, as she walked along in Dana's oversized hiking shorts, her fine torso now better displayed through her closer-fitting T-shirt. Kathy now looked like how a very young Bridget might have, maybe several years before I'd met her. Constraining her long hair into a pony tail like that helped reduce that particular difference in her appearance. I almost got choked up at the sight; my eyes suddenly threatening to spill over with tears. Damn it! I shook it off. And tried my best not to think that again. After all, Bridget's death had sent me over the edge long before I'd ran into that government freak show. We made excellent time on the walk in. I made zero navigation errors to cause us delays. And on the way in we all seemed to become somewhat competitive for some reason. Pushing ourselves really harder than was prudent. But it was fun. And kept our talking to a minimum, due to breathing hard. And when we did speak it tended to be innocuous stuff, about the hike itself or related topics. Perfect! I also figured our unusually rapid progress would increase our chances for avoiding an overnight camp out, too. If the fast hike in hadn't worn the girls down too badly.
Just as from the air, there seemed no sign of people or vehicles when we reached the mystery lodge. We walked right up to the building and knocked on what we assumed to be the front door. Then the back door. And after that a side door. Nobody seemed to be home. So we peered into various accessible windows. It looked like a nice place both inside and out. Fairly new. It resembled a regular residential home, albeit somewhat on the large and expensive side. But even here, on the ground immediately surrounding the house, we could see no signs of transport roadways, or even where roads might have been and then removed. There was a large grassy field near the house with faint signs of man-made paint or dye there to maybe mark a helicopter landing spot. But even that wasn't very clear or certain. Not even from the air-- for recall I'd flown over the place with Dana. The building was locked up. But unless the glass was of some special toughness, it would have been easy to just break a window and enter. We didn't try to break in. I was just seeking some clue as to the how's and why's of the house's construction, and by whom. The land and construction records of the local county had been of no help on these points. Was this place some sort of illegal hunting lodge or corporate retreat? It could well of served as a small lodge, but I saw no hints of it specializing in servicing hunters. If a corporate retreat, it was extremely elitist, with only room for a small group (five to ten at most) in semi-luxury (including one or two servants on the premises). There were some small outbuildings, but no discernible separate servant quarters. No vehicle garage even for housing something like dirt bikes, ATVs, or snowmobiles. Most of the outbuildings were windowless, and equipped with people type doors rather than vehicle sized entrances. What few windows were available on the smaller structures tended to be small and translucent (rendering peeks inside unintelligible), frustrating snoops like us. All the buildings appeared to be well maintained. I got the sense they were only used seasonally or annually. There were no markings or signs or labels of any kind on anything we could find-- which seemed an awfully curious fact in itself. There were no visible power lines or telephone lines coming into the property. So superficially at least it appeared there was a self-sufficient power generator here somewhere, and a ham radio or some such device. But there was no sign of any antennas or the monstrous satellite dishes of that era. Not even a broadcast TV signal antenna was to be seen anywhere around. Of course, some communications schemes could be set up only as needed, and hidden away the rest of the time. There were no tracks new or old of any type of wheeled vehicle anywhere we looked. We also searched for property survey markers. I had a copy of one document from the local deeds office which indicated where a marker should be near the house. But we couldn't find it. I suspected it'd been removed to further cloud the legal circumstances of the place. None of this made any sense. It was a peculiar place. Then it got even stranger.
What happened next? A hasty fighting retreat into wilderness.
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