              |
Tales from the Trails A funny thing happened on the trail (in retrospect, anyway!) or “Wild Dogs” as told by former RMC caretaker John Tremblay. I was 17 years old, and had recently come to love Randolph and the trails. I would hitchhike from Nashua on every weekend I could – just to hike up to the camps and spend the weekend in the woods. It was already dark by the time I got up to Randolph one November evening. Undaunted, I started up Lowe’s Path. By this time, I knew the trail well enough – plus I had a disposable flashlight. What else could I need? Before long, I got the distinct feeling I wasn’t alone. I attributed it to the jitters – after all, I’d never hiked in the dark before. Soon, however, I knew I wasn’t alone. I heard footsteps – a lot of them – very stealthily moving on either side of the trail. Dogs. Not just any dogs – but aggressive dogs in the woods, in the dark – at least three dogs – maybe more. These were gang dogs. Dogs that would make most junk-yard dogs slink away whining and quivering. I didn’t know what to do. They were actually beginning to circle, and yip, yap and growl. To say I was scared was a total understatement. “I’m gonna die, I just know it,” went through my mind. So I turned and screamed at the top of my lungs, which scattered them. Temporarily. Weapons. That’s what I needed. I took stock of what I had – a butter knife, fork, and disposable flashlight. Great. With knife in one hand, fork and flashlight in the other, I screamed again, lunging toward the dogs from every angle. This time, they slunk away – for a few minutes. I moved as fast as my adrenaline would carry me up the trail – and then they were back. Again and again I lunged at the pack – all the while slashing the air with the knife and fork/flashlight combo. And so it went until around the junction with the Link, when they seemed to disappear – maybe they caught the scent of prey that wouldn’t take as much work to bring down. A bit further up the trail, I slipped on some ice, and lost my flashlight. Now I was scared. I was terrified that I’d have to deal with the dogs again – and to do so in the dark was just too much. But, I got on my hands and knees, and scrambled around looking for my flashlight, using the only pack of matches I had for light. It’s hard to believe – and maybe the years have altered my memory – but I clearly recall finding that flashlight with the last match I had. John was a two-time winter caretaker and two-season trail crew member with the RMC in the early 1980’s. He is currently a carpenter and rare book dealer. He enjoys rock & ice climbing and camping. Kathy is a writer and career counselor. She enjoys folk singing and hiking. They live in Randolph. Readers! If you
have amusing or memorable Tales from the Trails that you’d
like to share, we'd love to print it in an upcoming newsletter.
Jot your tale down, and send it to Kathy
Tremblay.
|