Fun Facts:

Length of the AT: 2178.3 miles
Completed in: 122 days
Zero days: 10 days
Most miles in a day: ~35 miles
Least miles in a day (excluding zeros): 3 miles
Longest hiking day: ~14 hours
Shortest hiking day: 1.75 hours
Average miles per day (excluding zeros): 19.45 miles
Longest stretch between zero days: 30 days (575.1 miles)
Shortest stretch between zero days: 5 days (103.1 miles)
Highest Peak: Clingman’s Dome, NC – 6,643′
Lowest Elevation: Bear Pen at the Bear Mountain Zoo, NY – 120′

Number of days to feel normal again: 30
Hazard’s weight lost: 40lbs
Fuel canisters: 9
Stitches: 6
Most consecutive days without a shower: 5
Hazard cut his nails: 5 times
Hazard broke a pole: 3 times
New sets of poles for Spoon: 2
Headlamps for Spoon: 2
New boots between us: 2 pair each
Corroded phone: 1
Blood lost: 1 cup
Spoon’s weight lost: 0lbs
Number of times we shaved: 0

Hazard’s favorite food: Nutella on a Cinnamon Raisin Bagel
Spoon’s favorite food: Refried beans with hotsauce and Easy Cheese on corn chips.

Thank you list:

Neels Gap Outfitters, Roman Noodles, Hiawassee Inn, Nantahala Outdoor Center, “Steve who works at the bar”, Mountain Mike & Pumpkin, Standing Bear Farms, Chris & Jenny at Sunnybank Inn, Bluff Mountain Outfitters, Uncle Johnny’s Hostel, WLOS Asheville, Kincora Hostel, The Town of Damascus, Lazy Fox Inn, Terry and Sissy Kammer of Augusta’s Appalachian Inn, Neville and Michael of Woods Hole Hostel, Plaza Motel, Police Officer Josh, Charlene’s parents and Zeke, Mama Ava’s sister and her husband, Rusty of Rusty’s Hard Time Hollow, Mr. and Mrs. House (Cattywampus’s parents), the family at Loft Mountain Campground, Kathy and Don in Shenandoah, Bears Den Hostel, The Appalachian Trail Conservancy, Jay and the DC Lofty Hostel, Paul Rosa aka Blue Moon, Caledonia State Park, Christy, Allenberry Resort and Playhouse, Pat and Vickey Kelly of the Doyle Hotel, Paul and Tammy from Ye Old Backpacker, Church of the Mountain Hostel in Delaware Water Gap, Pack Shack, Edge of the Woods Outfitter, Mohican Outdoor Center, Dick “The Mayor”, Butch, Bill, Sara and Jason from NYC, Joy, Tim, and Rio from Kent, White Hart Inn, Tom Levardi, Chris, Arla & Josh from Bennington, Tim Jones, Back Home Again Cafe, “Short and Sweet” & Greybeard from Norwich, Pooh & his daughter, Chet West of Lincoln, Luke and the Galehead Hut Croo, Gates and the Mizpah Hut Croo, Hikers Paradise Hostel, White Birches Campground Hostel, Peter Bingham, Gail from White Wolf Inn, Tim Harrison of Harrison’s Pierce Pond Camps, Ferryman Dave Corrigan, Rebekah of Lake Shore House, Mr. and Mrs. Farrell.

…all of the trail angels who supplied us with your magic,
…all of the people who gave us rides in and out of town,

Special shout out to all the hikers we met on the trail:

Jake the camera guy, Kendra and Wes, Amoeba, Linda & Curtis, Bombadillo, 15, Loyal, Chairman, Matt & his mom, Centaur, Barfight, Sal, Nikki & Joe, Needles, Firecracker, Odysseus, Herb, Patch, Tyben, Poli-Poli & Plowboy, Disco Stu, Route 66, Dan, Churchmouse, One-Step, Checkpoint & Coldfeet, Bad Camper & Colin, Dave Castor (not a hiker but a biker), Two Pack, SnP, Sunshine & Marbles, Chef, Turtleback, Knees & Curio, Slackass, Croc (impostor), Sarah, Shannon, Kelly, Iceman & Cattywampus, Wheels, 10×10, Magnum Orphan, Crow, Buttchinz, Big Camera, Pilgrim of St. James, Capt’n, Kage, Squatter, Grizzilla, Aquafresh, Hot Feet, Manimal, Trampoline & Kate (Siren), Highway Man, Free child, Basher, Ziggy, Shameless, Creep, Lion King, YOU, Bam-Bam, George with Gracie the dog, Journey, Many Names, Prof. Mark, Frankenfoot, Timebomb, Hopscotch, Cleancut, Natty, Fancypants & Gozer, Stewball, Otter, Rocky, West, Goose, Game boy, Icarus, Bark & Berry, Bookworm, Boofer, Holdout & Hatchet, Bugman, Two Pounds, Topshelf & Geeza, Fiddle, Not-so-crazy, Tennessee Ed & Sis, Joe Kickass, Rattlefoot, Carhop, Kermit, Zipper, Wiz-Kid, Wizpee, Jellybean, Solar System, Rockdancer, Annie, Hammock, Chomp & Half-full, Don’t Panic & Wing it, Phoenix, Houdini, Braid, Strider, Moss, Flying Scotsman, Spicoli, Tank, Hobbit, and Pennywhistle.

Of course a special thanks to Nick (UCOC) and Arthur (Crocstar) for enriching our experience through friendship and fellowship. We would walk anywhere with these guys again.

And finally:

Thank you Catherine, Stephen, Lauren, Jamie, and Johnathan for meeting us along the trail to bring us love and support.

Thank you to Mr. and Mrs. Driver for treating us to a wonderful time at our half-way point in Harpers Ferry.

Thank you Mom, Dad, and Will for maintaining the website, providing transportation to and from the trail, and moral support.

I cannot forget all of the people who commented on the website and constantly told us we would make it. Part of our victory we owe to you.

As you can see, an overwhelming number of people were involved in making this a truly memorable experience of a lifetime. We simply could not have done this on our own. We are in your debt.

Until the next great adventure,

Fred “Hazard” Gunther & Madison “Spoon” Driver

From Hazard’s notes:
Day 122: September 8, 2009
Travel:
From: Katahdin Stream Campground; Millinocket, ME
To: Mt. Katahdin, ME
Beginning: 7:15am
Ending: 9:15am
Number of miles hiked:
a) Trail – 5.3
b) other – 5.3 back down Katahdin.
c) AT Mile Marker – 2178.3 cumulative.
Weather:
AM: Sunny and cold at lower elevations. As we got higher the clouds rolled in and covered the top of Katahdin. The clouds broke for only a short while and I could see the top and then it was covered once again.
PM: The clouds burned off early afternoon and we could see the summit of Katahdin clearly from the south gate.
People: Nick’s Parents. My Dad! Flying Scotsman crew.
Animals: The party animals on top of Katahdin!
Money: $0, $2142 cumulative.
Notes of the day:
AM: For the final time on this journey I woke up before the sun. Nick was full of energy rushing us to get ready and downstairs for the continental breakfast. Crocstar, Spoon, and I decided the best course of action was to pack all of our gear and leave it at the ranger station since Nick was summiting with his dad and they would then head back into town on their own. We packed away as many muffins, bagels, and cereal we could until Nick ran us out of there and into the car. When we got to the south gate at Baxter State Park the gate was still closed because being the day after Labor Day, new park hours were in affect and we would have to wait until 6:00 am. Even arriving half an hour ahead of opening put us third in line to get into the park. Once things got moving we handed the ranger our permits and rolled on to Katahdin Stream Campground. Spoon and I picked up our daypacks and filled them with our water, warm clothes, some snacks, and left the rest behind. We gave Nick and his Dad a head start while Crocstar finished up his morning smoke. We signed the clipboard at the trailhead indicating the time we left the campground (just before 7:00 am) and what trail we intended to take up and then back down. It wasn’t long before we passed Nick and his Dad. The first section of trail is surprisingly easy as the trail is well graded, rising gently until we reached Katahdin Stream Falls, a spectacular cascade of water and probably a great swimming hole if it wasn’t so cold. Once past the Falls, the trail turned into a rock staircase until a detour took us off the blazed path in order for a maintenance crew to repair a section of trail. After the quick bushwhacking session the trail turned creek-like and I hopped around choosing my foot placement very carefully to not soak my boots. Then I came upon the boulder section. Massive boulders were scattered all over the trail forcing me to use creative methods to lift and pull myself up each obstacle. I could see the clouds crashing into the mountains to the west and above me a gray ceiling blocking my view of what lay ahead. From the boulder crawl the trail left the dirt path and I began my climb up the jagged spine of Katahdin. This was the part that weeds out the weak. I had to lift myself up rock cracks, wedge my foot into rock and metal footholds, and generally found myself in situations that would benefit from a rope and harness. I pulled myself onto a sandy ledge and the blazes in front of me seemed to be relatively level and then the trail rose up slightly into the clouds. As I hiked onward the clouds slowly blew out the way revealing the towering rock pile I had to scramble up if I wanted any hope of seeing the top of this mountain. I could hear Spoon and Crocstar ahead climbing up the rock face and I yelled up to them, “Katahdin!” and they shouted back in reply. When I finally got to the top of this section I could see Nick and his Dad just arriving to the sandy ledge. Now I had arrived at Mt. Katahdin’s Tableland which was pleasantly flat and is where I got my first sighting of the summit. The trail now had rope on either side of it to keep hikers off of the alpine vegetation and on the marked path. I can imagine from this point many AT thru-hikers would want to just take off running toward the summit without any regard for the fragile plant life. I could still see Crocstar and Spoon just ahead of me and I did my best to pick up my pace but I knew they were doing the same – the end was in sight. Arriving at Thoreau Spring, which has sadly been dry for awhile, signified I had reached the final mile of the trail and with the weather looking to hold out for a while. Oh how wrong was I. As I began my final approach to the summit, the clouds came surging back and smothered the mountain a dense haze that severely lowered my visibility, yet I charged on. Through the mist I could barely make out the silhouettes of a sign and of Spoon and Crocstar. I walked up to the final white blaze of the Appalachian Trail to the cheers of my friends and I dropped my backpack to the ground. I had made it! I was an Appalachian Trail Thru-hiker. One of an elite club of roughtly 11,000 from 1948 to the present. I immediately pulled off my soaked shirt and handed the camera to Spoon so I could climb up onto the sign marking the summit to throw my arms into the air and belt out a cry of victory. It felt almost euphoric too, for a moment, felt like I had just conquered the entire world and then it felt really cold so I quickly pulled out my fleece and Marmot from my backpack to warm up. All in all it only took me about two and a half hours to make the climb to the summit and then only 30 minutes more for Nick and his Dad to show up and join in the celebration. Spoon popped open the champagne he hauled to the summit on Nick’s behalf and passed around the bubbly only after making a complete mess with his poor drinking abilities. He threw back the bottle for a swig only to have it shoot out of his mouth like a geyser. Everyone as a result exploded into laughter. We all had a lot of fun in celebration, taking pictures and congratulating each other on our achievement. Soon more people started to show up who were either at the end of their own AT journey or a much shorter hike. Sitting against a rock to block the wind Spoon and I watched other hikers go through the same experience of finishing a 2,178 mile hike and I just felt so proud of them. Some had brought their wives or girlfriends up with them and even over that short 5.3 mile climb they were tearing up for the joy of getting to the top and seeing their mate put an end to their thru-hike. Amidst all of the emotional commotion Spoon and I recorded our final video blog. Shortly thereafter we couldn’t wait for the weather to clear up any longer and decided to hike down off the summit. The others in our group had left over an hour ago and Spoon was anxious to be through hiking. As we came off of the summit we saw Flying Scotsman, Spicoli, and their crew cruising up the mountain with “Flight of the Valkyries” booming from their iPod’s Extreme Katahdin Mix. Spoon and I cheered them on as we passed.

PM: I should have known that as soon as we entered the Tablelands the sun would come back out and the clouds would burn off. I turned around and could see the summit clearly. We sat in the cold, wet clouds for hours and only when we leave did conditions improve. Oh well. Coming down the mountain was a lot harder than going up. We had to lower ourselves down carefully on slick, sharp rocks so not to fall to our deaths. We ran into the trail maintenance crew on the way down who had opened up the closed section of trail. A quick note on the clipboard at the bottom of the mountain of our time of return and we were off the hook. Crocstar was sitting in the pavilion with bunch of gauze cleaning up his leg. A sharp root jutting out of the side of the trail managed to give him a deep cut just above his knee. For a guy who had to hike 500 miles or more with damaged ribs, this was just excessive. We turned in our backpacks, put our last notes in the hiker register, and then walked out to the road to hitch a ride to the south gate. A truck came rolling by and we immediately recognized the driver. It was Ferryman Dave who paddled us across the Kennebec River and he was happy to provide us transport yet again. He took us to the gate where I told my Dad we would wait for him to pick us up. We waited only about 30 minutes before he rolled up in his 2009 Malibu rental car. I was really glad to see him and gave him a big hug. We piled into the little car and sped off to Millinocket to face our final and most difficult challenge of this long journey – the Summit Sundae Challenge at the Appalachian Trail Cafe. I called Nick so that he could come witness the action. To describe this sundae, it begins with 13 scoops of ice cream of chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry, stacked on top of whatever pastry they can find (I had a chocolate doughnut), then they top it with bananas, a king size Snickers bar, M&Ms, chocolate syrup, whipped cream, and cherries on top. That behemoth is served in a huge bowl and when it hits the table the clock starts. The time to beat is 10:02 by a “tiny little girl” who must have an immunity to cold. As I started to eat the dish I thought, “Wow, this is really tasty”, but toward the end, when I was shivering from the cold I swore I would never eat ice cream again. When I cleared the last bite, just ahead of Crocstar, my stomach felt like it was going to burst. My time: 23 minutes. My trophy? A T-shirt and a bumper sticker. Spoon was unable to finish. After signing the wall (for the challenge finishers) and a ceiling tile (for all AT hikers), we said our last goodbye to Nick and his family and headed to Bangor. We got a motel room, clean, a bite to eat at the Applebees, and passd out with a severe case of full-belly.

PM: After crossing Rainbow stream over a pair of wobbly tree trunks we hugged the edge of Rainbow lake, passing a couple pulling a canoe out of the lake, a guy who about two hours ago saw a moose and wanted to warn us as if the moose was going to stand there the entire afternoon waiting for us to show up. Once we had traversed the length of the lake the trail took us upward to the Rainbow Ledges where the aforementioned moose was spotted. Not surprisingly there wasn’t a moose waiting for us at the top, however, a spectacular view of Katahdin with the afternoon sunlight highlighting its grandeur took my breath away. It was just too unreal to think I would be climbing that beast in two days. When Spoon and I got to Hurd Brook Lean-to Crocstar and Nick were enjoying a fire prepared by the shelter’s temporary resident. The guy staying here comes out for one or two weeks a year and basically lives between this shelter and Rainbow Stream Lean-to. It was great because he had a ton of firewood prepared and maintained the fire until we went to sleep that night. Spoon and I cooked our last meal together, I dried my sweaty clothes by the fire for the last time on this trip, and I fell asleep on the first and last baseball bat floors in the final night we would spent out in the woods on this wild adventure.

PM: Pennywhistle joined us shortly afterwards and then we all left the river at the same time. As we approached the side trail to Gulf Hagas we ran into a MATC ridgerunner from we which stopped and got some trail information. The gulf was formed by water eroding the slate walls of a narrow canyon resulting in a stretch of many spectacular waterfalls that as a result receives a lot of visitors. Pennywhistle hung around talking to the ridgerunner while Spoon and I moved on. At Carl A. Newhall Lean-to, where we initially planned on stopping, we took a break to eat some food and resupply water at Gulf Hagas Brook. Crocstar came hiking through from the side trail to the shelter and stopped for just a minute to chat before moving on towards Gulf Hagas Mtn. On the way up Gulf Hagas Mtn. I was astonished as to how much the trail had been maintained and that much of it looked like new trail as the dirt was still loose around the rock staircases. We hiked up two more peaks, I thought I saw Katahdin through the trees a few times. We couldn’t find the trail around Sidney Tappan Campsite, and finally made our way up White Cap to the final peak. I got in front of Spoon when he stopped for a Snickers bar and powered my way up White Cap but was hugely disappointed when I got to the top because all of the view was directed south so there was no view of Mt. Katahdin. I thought for sure we would finally get a peek at the monster we had been chasing for so long. From the peak, the rocky trail circled around to the other side of the mountain and when I broke my concentration from my feet and looked out over the horizon – I saw it. Far away in the distance a mountain that fit Pennywhistle’s description perfectly. Right then I knew I was looking at Katahdin in the distance and I was blown away. I pulled out my camera to take a few shots and then sat down on the trail to admire what the Indians call the “greatest mountain.” Spoon came up behind me and took a minute to relish the moment we had been waiting for so long. Unfortunately the sun was setting and we needed to get to the shelter so we continued down the mountain to our destination. A little while later we came upon Crocstar and Nick hanging around the shelter and we were the only ones who were there at the moment which we were stoked about. I had speculated that after all of the people we had seen the past few days that the shelter would be full. After dropping my pack I headed over to Logan Brook to fill my water and was warned by Nick to be careful not to slip and fall in as he had soaked his shoes earlier getting water himself. I came back just as dry as I left and prepared dinner for Spoon and I. Late that night Pennywhistle came into camp and we all wondered if Strider was going to make it to the shelter tonight. Pennywhistle and Strider had made a pact to summit Mt. Katahdin on the 7th of September because Strider had a plane he needed to catch. From tonight’s shelter they would have to do back to back 33 mile days to make it in time. And that is why you don’t buy a plane ticket out of Maine in advance.

PM: At the start of the 100 mile wilderness a pair of crutches hung from a branch in a tree and I wondered if that was a sign of what was to come or some kind of bad omen. Aside from my package of bagels squeezing out of my pack and having to go back and retrieve them it was a beautiful day to be hiking in Maine. The trail skirted the shores of North Pond and then followed Little Wilson Falls down to Little Wilson stream where the trail followed the stream for a few miles until I crossed over it and headed back up the mountain. Shortly after crossing the Canadian Pacific RR, I ran into a familiar face heading southbound. Her name was SnP (last saw her way back in Shenandoah NP) and she told me that she had spoken to the rest of the guys at the shelter up ahead. Hoping I would catch up to the group, I booked it to the shelter only to find it empty. I took a decent break, eating more food and making use of the privy. I was getting low on water but had no means to purify the source at the shelter because Spoon was somewhere ahead of me and I was worried about running out before I saw him again. Thankfully at the Long Pond Stream ford a pair of hikers were pumping water out of the stream and I asked them if I could use their pump to fill my Nalgene which I figured would be enough to get me up the mountain. They did me one better by filling my Nalgene for me while I got my Crocs on for the stream crossing and then steadied the rope while I made my way across. This was the deepest ford I had encountered so far on the trail with the water reaching my upper thighs. I skipped the next shelter in the interest of time and got to climbing Barren Mtn. as quickly as I could. Dusk was upon my by the time I got to the top of Barren Mtn. Another hiker had set up his tent at the very top and warned me that the trail did not go past his tent but around it. Apparently some hikers had stomped through earlier and I knew it had to be Spoon and the gang. I paused momentarily to take in the amazing sunset and then got moving again because I still had another mile to go before I hit the side trail to the shelter and was out of water. When I got to the shelter area the place was packed and just for location alone I could see how it attracted so many hikers. Spoon and I set up our tent with Cloud Pond just a few meters away and started to cook dinner. Crocstar and Nick had set themselves up at the shelter so I didn’t end up seeing them that night. Pennywhistle came into camp and cooked dinner beside us and we had a good chat while our food rehydrated. Just as we were about to eat we heard someone yelling for help back down the trail and blowing a whistle. We called back trying to figure out what was going on and if they actually needed assistance. Spoon, Pennywhistle, and I were just starting to hike back to the AT when the person in distress yelled back and said she was ok now. When she arrived in camp we immediately recognized her as Kermit who we had last seen in New Hampshire and she told us she had fallen in the dark and couldn’t find her headlamp and then got disoriented on the trail to the shelter. Strider had caught up to her and helped her get to the shelter. When everyone was settled down Spoon and I finished our dinner and promptly crawled into the tent to prepare for an early rise tomorrow.

PM: We all departed after filling our water at the spring and headed toward the summit of Pleasant Pond Mtn. which wasn’t a very pleasant climb being very rocky and rooty in addition to its steepness. The view from the top was just another testament to how beautiful the state of Maine is from above. The trail took me back down to the valley, around Moxie Pond, and through swampy forests before reaching the side trail to Bald Mtn Brook Lean-to. I thought I smelled the smoke from Crocstar’s cigarettes but I was motivated to just keep hiking. The trail turned from the usual dirt path to a rock slab covered by moss on either side of the narrow trail leading me closer to the top of the mountain. Soon the trees faded away and the trail was only identifiable by rock cairns set on top of expansive bare stone. When I had almost made it to the sign designating the Moxie Bald Mtn. summit I heard Spoon call my name from behind me and down the mountain I could see Spoon and Crocstar making their way up towards me. I snapped a picture of them on top of the summit as I made my way down, not really wanting to hang around too long because the sun was getting pretty low in the sky. As I left the summit, I had to make a bunch of moves to avoid large patches of mud that the trail had turned into. I was quite successful in keeping to the edges of the trail but as I hopped from one rock to the edge of the trail and landed in a bush, the bush pushed me back out to the middle of the trail and my boot sank a good couple of feet into the wet mud. I screamed “Noooooooo!” and struggled to regain my balance but the damage was already done. I hiked down the mountain to Moxie Bald Lean-to with a heavy, muddy, and wet boot and sock. When I got to the lean-to I was relieved to find only Nick’s gear inside but saw that at the edge of Bald Mountain Pond he was sitting with another hiker at a picnic table. When Spoon and Crocstar came into camp I was super pumped to tell them that we had a picnic table and they let out cries of excitement. Our reaction regarding a picnic table was not unfounded since it had been a really long time since we had had a picnic table at our shelter. They are very rare in New England. The guidebook states that there are “many moose in the area” and we were all hoping to see or hear moose at some point on the trail. We had a quiet evening with no moose activity and I read a Backpacker Magazine I had thrown in my pack from Pleasant Pond Lean-to then went to sleep.

PM: Around lunchtime I caught up to Crocstar eating a snack next to East Carry Pond. I thought about just passing him, but then I realized we were really in no hurry today so I sat down and took a break with him. A few minutes later it was time for him to get moving again, but I decided to stick around and enjoy the pond and its scenery. I pulled out my lunch and watched the water splash against the shore. I tried to give Cat a call once I was back on the trail, but I kept walking out of signal range dropping the call so I had to give up. The rest of the hike that day was one if the easiest in a long time. I only passed one southbound hiker that afternoon and the trail seemed deserted the rest of the time. Since I was all to myself and I had Croc’s earbuds from last night I pulled out my iPod and rocked out while I finished the final few miles of the day. I got to Pierce Pond Lean-to about 45 minutes after the rest of the guys and found Crocstar and Spoon hiding from the cool breeze coming off the pond in front of the shelter. Spoon was already in his sleeping bag and Croc was soon to follow. I asked where Nick had gone and they said he had left to investigate the boats that were tied up down the shore. I asked if anyone had signed us up for the breakfast tomorrow and they hadn’t. The book said it was a .5 mile walk to the camp and no one was motivated to go over there. Crocstar suggested that I try and give the place a call since we had the number in the guidebook. I didn’t have any service at the lean-to so I went back to the trail and walked a little way trying to pick something up, but I had no luck. I just decided to walk to the camp myself and make sure we didn’t miss out on the opportunity. When I got there nobody was around but a clipboard was hanging on a post with instructions on how to sign up. In addition to the pancakes there was options for egg, meat, and beverage so I signed all of us up for the most food we could get and guessed on what people would want to drink. When I got back to the shelter Nick was back sadly without a boat. All this thinking about food got me hungry so I got dinner started. All this time Spoon hadn’t moved from his sleeping bag so when dinner was finished cooking I told him I wasn’t going to feed him while he laid there and if he wanted some food he’d have to move. At some point that evening Nick thought about jumping into the pond and the rest of us told him he was nuts and it was too cold. Before we knew it he had leaped off the rocks and into the pond. He was out of the pond almost as fast as he went in however he said it was worth it but to us he looked freezing cold until he put warm clothes on. I’m sure that constant wind off the pond didn’t help warm him up. Lots of hikers ended up staying at the lean-to choosing to set up tents on the ridge behind the shelter and only one older gentleman squeezing into the shelter with the four of us. Later on while everyone was either reading or doing something quietly Spoon starts singing to himself and tensions were already high from being around each other for so long and I was annoyed with his selfish attitude today so I told him to be quiet. This ignited whatever things I had done to annoy him the past couple months so he started yelling at me. This wasn’t the time or the place to have this confrontation especially with some guy we’d never met before sharing the tiny shelter space with us. I let Spoon go off until he felt satisfied and then we just didn’t speak for the rest of the night. As the sun set over the pond the three other guys went down to the water’s edge while I enjoyed the view from inside the shelter. The loons made a bunch of noise flapping vigorously to take flight off the pond and lulled us to sleep with the sound of their calls.